Blood Leverage (Bloodstone Chronicles Book 1) (13 page)

“And your security system would alert you if that happened,” I assumed.

He shrugged like it was a non-issue. “It would, but we’d hear it first. Hell,
you’d
hear it.” He rapped a knuckle against the wall. “The outer walls are thick concrete and the inner walls are reinforced with steel plates in several places. Breaking through them wouldn’t be quiet.”

Then he turned serious and looked at me. “Rory, if you’re going to spend time here, should we ever have another intruder you have to promise me you’ll do
exactly
as I say. I don’t expect trouble, but I want you to promise.”

“Your plan, your rules,” I said lightly. “You’re the boss. I promise.”

Looking like he wanted to be certain I meant it, Ian stared me down before we resumed trudging through the empty rooms. Some dead part of my brain sputtered back to life. “How did you cram so many rooms in here anyway? It’s a big house but it didn’t look
this
big from outside. Have you been doubling back to keep me confused?”

Ian’s expression was one of amusement. “The underground portion of this property served as the basement of a research facility centuries before the house was built above it. The lower level is much larger—I thought you’d realized.”

I felt like the world’s biggest idiot. Being used to windowless construction I hadn’t realized we were underground, which was particularly embarrassing having seen the dozens of windows before I’d entered. Still, there hadn’t been a flight of stairs when entering with Nicky and I said as much.

He laughed. “You didn’t miss any stairs. The vestibule opens directly into the house above ground, but that’s off limits to guests. However, it also functions as an elevator car. If you know how to activate it, it descends and opens into the guest rooms.”    

I paused in mid-doorway, remembering. “That’s what the vibrations were!” Damn. I would have paid more attention had I realized I’d been taking my first elevator ride. “Are you
that
concerned someone will find you and hurt you?”

“Privacy is a valuable commodity around here.”

Remembering our initial meeting it was easy to believe him. Then, for the first time since Nicky’s abduction, I remembered Ms. Parkes and stopped in my tracks. Nicky’s words popped back into my head.
Rumor has it she has a vampire lover…

Ugh, how much more dense could I get? This place was neither
her home nor his
home, it was
their
home—a show place fit for a famous human liaison on the outside and secured living quarters where a human and vampire could be together underground. The enormously rich ‘interspecies liaison’ was Ian’s lover, and he was her source of funding.

Ian noticed me lagging, an observation he mistook for me being tired. “We’re almost there, Aurora.” He extended his hand but I pretended not to see it. Instead, I shambled after him through two more rooms before he blessedly stopped at a wide, dim stairway leading outside.

As if to echo my thoughts, Keanu called down, “Finally! I’ve been waiting forever!”

“By forever, he means about half an hour, most of which he spent working,” Ian said dryly as we climbed to meet him. I watched with interest as Ian closed the exit with a heavy trapdoor.

Once it was down, Keanu kicked a quick layer of dead leaves over it—his sneakers being as beat up as the rest of his clothes—and made my eyes widen by lifting a felled tree with one hand and laying it across the trapdoor.  

I looked around curiously and was surprised to see the lights of Nicky’s truck a hundred feet away, shining in the middle of what appeared to be a recently cleared patch of woods. The earth was so freshly turned I could smell it.

The walk to the truck was suspiciously easy, even in the dark. Having seen Keanu move an entire tree I had a sneaking suspicion Ian’s version of ‘preparation’ had involved Keanu doing some extreme gardening.

As I stepped into the clearing and looked up, the air caught in my throat before reaching its intended destination. I struggled to breathe and Keanu pulled me back against his chest while Ian pressed his back to me, scanning for the source of the threat. They looked very swashbuckling, but my chance to admire them was cut short. Head spinning, I pushed them both away and sat down hard, tucking my head between my knees.

As the vertigo receded, I opened my eyes, forgetting the cause of my dizziness and screaming bloody murder at the two sets of eyeballs faintly glowing approximately ten inches from my face. Talk about freaky.

Keanu let out an answering shriek in response and jumped five feet in the air. He recovered before he hit the ground but looked thoroughly embarrassed as he landed.

Ian, on the other hand, was made of sterner stuff and was clearly vacillating between concern for me and disgust for Keanu—whom I suspected would later receive an earful for conduct unbecoming to a vassal.

I was tempted to mock Keanu myself, but was too grateful he’d taken Ian’s attention off me. Of course, when I realized the eyeballs belonged to Ian and Keanu I stopped mid-screech and demanded they help me up.

“Sorry about that,” I said briskly, dusting the palms of my hands on my jeans. I felt no lingering ill effects from my dizzy spell other than embarrassment, which I was determined to hide as best as possible.

Annoyed with myself, I turned to the truck again, only to realize I didn’t have the keys. I turned back. “You know, you might’ve told me that the stories about vampire eyes glowing in the dark were true.”

Keanu helpfully unlocked the doors. “Our eyes don’t really glow in the dark, you know. They simply reflect moonlight at a high intensity.”

Still tense, Ian’s glowing eyes shot from side to side. “You didn’t notice it earlier because the forest canopy lets very little moonlight filter through. Out here, with the trees removed…” He gestured upward. “Full moon.”

I had braced to climb into the truck, stubbornly refusing assistance, only to glance up a second time as Ian did. Once again, I felt a surge of dizziness that brought both men to my side.

“Everything’s okay, Aurora,” Ian crooned.

I felt aggravation surge through me at his condescending soothe-the-human voice—the one that made me want to strangle him. Either he didn’t notice my reaction or didn’t care because he kept talking. “If this truck upsets you, we’ll find another one for the deliveries.” He smiled like he’d solved all my problems. 

“You’ll find another truck?” I asked, baffled.

“We’ll do
what
?” echoed Keanu, equally confused.

Ian’s tone remained in
there-there
mode, but he shot Keanu a dirty look. “If seeing Dominic’s truck upsets Aurora, we’ll find another way.”

Oh. He thought my strange behavior was due to the truck.

Then I felt guilty—was the truck supposed to upset me? I
was
uneasy at using Nicky’s truck without him, but it hadn’t caused my lightheadedness.

“I’m not upset about the truck. It’s the sky.” I fought back the urge to giggle, knowing I’d upset everyone.

“You’re upset at the sky?” Keanu sounded wary, which
did
make me laugh, but I kept it under control.

“I’m not upset, I’m breathless! Do you realize this is the
first time in my entire life I’ve been outside after sunset? I didn’t faint from fear, I was just…”

Nothing seemed adequate.

“It’s overwhelming,” I said. “Experiencing this is an incredible gift, so thank you. I’ll never forget it.”

I took another few minutes to admire the dangerous beauty of the night before climbing into the truck. Then I laughed silently. If I wanted to admire dangerous beauty, it was sitting right in the front seat.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE only good thing about learning to drive was I only had to do it once. Everything else about it sucked.

Our first trial run took three times longer than it should have as Ian kept stopping to make poor Keanu destroy more trees every few yards. The only thing keeping me awake was their endless bickering over directions, but after a few suggestions I left them to it. Apparently vampires get exceedingly annoyed when accused of being lost.

The eventual route they chose measured approximately fifteen miles as the crow flies, maybe twenty miles total, and they argued the entire trip—mostly about how best to wind a path through the trees and make it appear as natural as possible. Also, the new path exited near the vault at an angle to better hide its entrance.

Having created a clear path, Ian finally let me take the wheel on the trip back to his place. With all potential obstacles having been removed steering shouldn’t have been a problem, but it was dark and the curves of the new path were unfamiliar.

My return trip to Ian’s took two hours and my second trip to the vault took an hour and a half. Finally, our last drive back to Ian’s took only an hour and fifteen minutes and we all agreed my driving skills would be sufficient to get me home after the sun rose.

After I successfully parked without killing anyone—not a huge accomplishment when your passengers are immortal—Keanu surprised me with a hug goodbye and told me he’d see me next week. With a wave, he loped off to the buried trapdoor.

Ian stayed in the truck until the sun began to breach the horizon.

“Follow the path and you’ll be fine,” he said. “The gauge for the solar panel is down to a quarter full, but it’ll get you home. It’ll need sun before your trip back.” He tapped a dial on the instrument panel and I made a mental note before he continued. 

“Also, everything you requested for your friend is bundled in the back of the truck. I had to scuff a few things to age them, but they should all serve their purpose.”

Having forgotten, I smiled gratefully. “Thank you for that. We can discuss my paying you for everything when I come back.”  

Ian shrugged uncomfortably and slid down from the truck. Instead of a hug he told me to avoid crashing—which spoke volumes of his confidence in me. Then he ducked into the shade of the trees as I drove slowly out of the lot. 

My actual drive home was uneventful, but my mind countered the calm by recalling every upsetting thought it could. It had plenty to choose from.

Much of the drive was spent on Nicky: whether he was alive, whether he was suffering, what I’d tell Luigi if the worst had happened, and the most agonizing thought of all—whether Nicky would be safe if I’d done something differently. Insisted we go to bed earlier or stayed in the living room with him. Something. Anything.

Whatever the answer, it was a question I’d ask for the rest of my life.

After my heart had wrung those topics dry I considered my mother and the information she’d withheld. I didn’t know whether to confront her or leave things as they stood. She’d deliberately kept everything private but I could only guess at her reasons. Did she think I couldn’t be trusted?

For that matter, it made me wonder about Gigi. What did he know about mother’s money? Had my introduction to blood patronage been solely for his convenience and commission?

I also thought about vampires. I thought about Eggplant’s deadly grace and Keanu’s rigid devotion. And I thought about Ian, who’d spared my life and acted like my friend. Sort of. A bossy and somewhat arrogant friend, but a friend nonetheless. 

And finally, there was Ms. Parkes. I don’t know why I was measuring myself against her, but everything about her made me feel inferior. Then again, living with my mother I ought to be used to that by now.

Despite everything crowding my brain, or possibly because of it, I made it home in an hour. Even with my lousy mood, I’ll admit to a twinge of pride after I’d successfully locked the truck in the vault’s unloading bay without having been seen.

My mental respite was short lived.

At barely eight in the morning the heat was already scorching, and the walk home was brutal. Between Nicky’s and my belongings (and Amy’s damn turkey roaster) I was dripping with sweat by the time I made it home, which at least gave me a reason to avoid conversation in the main courtyard.

The few times I was approached I realized people were only interested in gossiping about my banishment petition, which I’d miraculously managed to forget in light of the more recent catastrophes.

My head was ready to explode by the time I made it home, and as soon as I shut the door I dropped everything on the floor. My sweaty clothes followed seconds later and I bulleted into the shower. After I’d dried my hair and carefully stashed Nicky’s belongings out of sight, I was too drained to worry. I was too drained for anything but a nap.

Unfortunately, sleeping in the middle of the day often messed with my head and today was no exception. My dreams were only vague memories, but my puffy face and damp pillowcase led me to believe my various dilemmas had featured prominently. As a minor plus, there’d been no kittens.

In an effort to clear my head, I stuck my face beneath the faucet before staggering into the kitchen in search of food. The offerings in my fridge paled next to the assortment of pie at Ian’s, but my scrambled eggs and toast tasted surprisingly simple and good—like home. After washing the pan, I checked my front door for a message and found nothing, which surprised me.

I’d been grateful for my reprieve from Amy earlier, but now I began to worry. We rarely went a day without seeing one another and the odds that she wouldn’t be anxious to see me—particularly when expecting presents—were slim.

Then I laughed. I was stuck in adrenaline mode, constantly braced for disaster. If something had happened to Amy, I’d already know. Jenny or Robert would probably have arm wrestled for the joy of telling me first.

More likely, Amy was stuck with her mother and hadn’t heard I was home yet. Or maybe she simply assumed I’d stop by the first chance I got, which meant I should drag my butt over there before she decided I was avoiding her.  

I mentally censored my story as I gathered everything I’d brought back. My adaption could feature my first day accurately, minus the functioning utilities, but I no longer wanted to discuss the night I’d spent with Nicky. Under the circumstances, I’d probably break down and sob if I tried. On the plus side, the information I’d learned about my mother could keep Amy occupied for hours and as far as I was concerned it was fair game.

Rehearsing my conversational outline, I nested Amy’s loot into her roasting pan and ran back upstairs to get dressed. Tired of grubby jeans and sweatshirts, I pulled on a sleeveless aqua tunic sweater Amy had knit and cinched it with a narrow leather belt over a black pair of trousers Ms. B. had retailored. I was locking up when I realized I’d neglected to bring home any ‘scavenged’ items for myself.

“Damn it!” The words burst out of me, causing two small girls to giggle as they hurried past and I murmured a weak apology that only made them giggle more.

As the girls turned the corner, I shifted the weight of Amy’s treasures against my hip and began stomping down
the hall, furious at having neglected something crucial. When I gave Amy her spoils she was certain to ask what I’d found for myself, and I had nothing to say. It would’ve been simple to borrow some clothes or some books.

A solution came to me and my footsteps resumed their normal volume. If Amy asked, I’d say I brought back a pile of books and had stored them in the vault.

With one problem solved, I took a deep breath in an attempt to relax. Amy had no reason to be suspicious if I remembered the basics of my story: Nicky and I had visited a few abandoned homes, and then he’d dropped me off this morning.
Short and simple
, I warned myself as I knocked.

As it happened, after all my worry, Amy had no interest in discussing my weekend. After expressing her appreciation for her new toys—which she barely glanced at—she changed the subject to my upcoming hearing, tugging me into the living room.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I let myself in and brought your banishment paperwork back here. I’ve been studying it while you were gone.”

“My banishment paperwork? How’d you even know I had it?” I thought back to the morning of my departure, certain I hadn’t mentioned it.

Amy shrugged. “I saw it in your living room the morning you left and recognized it from my mom’s hearing. I’ve been planning your defense arguments from the moment I heard about the petition, but I didn’t want to put a damper on your trip. I went back later and borrowed the paperwork to start researching.”

Touched (and rather impressed), I nodded. “I didn’t have a chance to review it before I left. How do things compare to your old square?”

She smiled stiffly. “Well,” she pulled a document from the pile on the table, “your procedure will be much shorter than my mother’s. The only two people slated to speak are you and Robert. He’ll list his grievances to make an argument for your banishment, and then you have a chance to refute his argument before the vote.”

“That’s it?” The hearings I’d witnessed had been more complicated.

Amy flicked a disdainful finger at the papers. “Given the pitiful charges against you, the petition isn’t very complex. My mother’s hearing involved statements from the people she’d attacked, the people who’d witnessed the attacks and several neighbors.”

“Why the neighbors?” I didn’t understand.

“Character witnesses,” she said crisply. “Both good and bad. Each side can call up to three people to speak about the character of the person being petitioned.”

Embarrassing as it was, I wasn’t sure I
had
three people who would stand and defend my character. Amy would, and Beverly, but I couldn’t think of a third. Wait, Barb! She’d help me, if for no other reason than she’d love being the center of attention. 

“How do I get these people permission to speak? Do I present them at the hearing or do I need to inform the council first?”

“You won’t be having character witnesses,” Amy said firmly.

“I won’t? Why not? Don’t I want all the help I can get?”

Amy shook her head. “No. My mother had people speak on her behalf because she
did
need all the help she could get. She’d attacked people in public. You, on the other hand, are sometimes late after educating people in half a dozen different squares, and behave rudely to a man who’s hated you since before you were born.”

She smiled triumphantly. “With these charges, you don’t need to defend your character. All you’d be doing is giving people more ammunition. Your refusal to let others defend you will not only look noble, it will make Robert’s accusations look even pettier than they are.”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” I said doubtfully, unsure if Amy had the right perspective. Then again, she’d been through this before and I hadn’t. She’d also read the paperwork I’d barely glanced at.

“Damn right I have!” She picked the papers up and shuffled them into a neat pile. “We’ll focus on three different points, the first being an attack on the petition itself. The accusations against you are downright warm and fuzzy compared to petitions your square has heard before. Previous petitions have involved rape and assault and repeated theft, so we’ll argue it should be dismissed for lack of merit.

“Second,” she continued before I could respond, “you are a productive member of this community. You are not only productive, you are
important
. As a teacher, you perform a service offered by only one other person here, your mother. If we lost you, we’d lose both of you, and that brings me to my final point.”

“Which is what?” I hung on her words, impressed. Though I’d never doubted Amy’s intelligence, this was an entirely new side of her. I’d never seen her so fierce about anything other than protecting her mother.

“The bottom line is that this petition isn’t an attack on you. It’s an attack on your mother, made when she isn’t here to defend herself. Everyone knows your mom would follow you anywhere. The purpose of this kangaroo court is to get rid of
her
, not you.”

Determination surged through me. “No one is going anywhere. To hell with Robert, let’s sit down and figure this out.”