Blood Secrets (25 page)

Watching her sleep, he ached to touch her, to climb into the bed and make her his for always.

But he couldn’t. Not yet. She had not yet given herself to him willingly and he wouldn’t accept her any other way. Much work needed to be done before their bodies could finally join the way their souls had already combined so long ago.

First he had to purge her of Varik’s influence.

He kissed her forehead, closed his eyes, and inhaled her exotic scent of jasmine and vanilla.

She moaned and shifted in her sleep.

“Soon, my darling,” he whispered, smoothing her hair. “I promise.”

He straightened, made his way to the door, opened it quietly, and slipped into the hallway beyond.

As he closed the door, she shifted in her slumber once more, mumbling incoherently but one word struck like a dagger to his very core.

“Varik …”

Rage surged through him, hot and blinding.

He stormed up the hall to his own bedroom and
flung himself onto the low, narrow bed. Beating and strangling his rival wasn’t enough to sever their bond. He’d known it wouldn’t be, but he’d foolishly allowed himself a small hope that it would at least weaken it. As soon as he accessed the Hall of Records and used the information he’d gleaned from its vast store, she would forget all about him.

“And then you
will
love me,” he whispered and closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the void as he parted the Veil and entered the Shadowlands.

Emily felt as though she were in a nightmare dreamscape and unable to wake. Numbness had settled into her brain, dampening all thought and dulling her senses. She could only sit at the kitchen counter, an untouched mug of coffee and her cell phone before her, and stare at the small photo she always carried with her.

It was taken eight years ago during a family vacation to Cumberland Falls in the southeastern part of Kentucky. The photo had been taken at night as she stood between Stephen and Alex on the observation deck overlooking the falls. Light from the full moon played through the spray and created a beautiful moon-bow that hung in the air behind three smiling faces. It had been a magical week for them all.

It’d also been the last vacation the three had spent together.

Fast-forward to their present, and Emily found herself in a mother’s Hell. Only a few weeks had passed since Stephen was kidnapped by drug runners looking to get even for Crimson Swan stealing a large portion of their customers. He didn’t talk about what happened to him and most of his physical wounds had healed, but Emily knew the psychological healing would take much longer.

Now Alex was missing—abducted by a madman who Varik said was obsessed with her.

Emily traced the outline of Alex with her finger. Tears welled in her eyes. No matter how much she fought, how much she tried to protect them, it seemed the world was determined to rip her family apart, and she couldn’t let that happen.

She angrily brushed away her tears and traded the photograph for her cell phone. She dialed Gregor’s number and listened to the steady ringing on the other end, counting each tone as they passed unanswered. After ten rings, she sighed and hit the button to end the call. Where was he?

Lost in her own thoughts, she ignored the chime of the doorbell and Janet’s hurried footsteps. Stephen had left earlier for a meeting with investors regarding the rebuilding of Crimson Swan. Emily had insisted he keep the appointment despite what had happened with Alex. He needed the distraction. He would’ve gone insane with worry had he stayed home.

A startled shout and the sound of a man’s angry voice drew Emily from the kitchen. “Janet?” she called, hurrying into the living room. “What’s wro—”

The barrel of a revolver shoved in her face stole her words. Angry golden eyes bored into her from behind stringy and sweat-soaked brown bangs. The scent of blood, pepper, and sage was strong in the air. The hand holding the revolver wavered slightly as the stranger spoke, showing fangs. “Who the fuck are you?”

Her gaze flicked to the frightened Janet, held tightly against the unknown vampire’s side. “Emily,” she replied, surprised by her own calm. “I’m a friend of Janet’s.”

The stranger inhaled sharply. “You smell like a vampire, but I don’t see fangs.”

“I had them filed down and capped a long time ago.”

He grunted. “You’re one of Janet’s clients?” He didn’t wait for Emily to respond before tightening his hold. “I never knew you swung both ways, Janet. That would’ve made for more interesting suck and fucks. A little girl-on-girl action, huh?”

“You’re hurting me,” Janet whined.

“Let her go,” Emily said.

“You are
not
the boss here, bitch!” He cocked the revolver’s hammer and Janet sobbed.
“I am!”

Despite the wild pounding of her heart, Emily spoke calmly. “Yes, you’re in charge, but you’re obviously injured. I can smell the blood. If you let Janet go, I can help you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want someone to help you?”

Several moments passed in silence while the stranger stared at her and Janet sobbed at his side. Finally, he shoved Janet into Emily’s arms, where the girl sobbed even harder and clung to Emily like a frightened child. “No tricks,” the stranger rasped. “Or you’re both dead.”

Emily nodded her understanding. “Come into the kitchen where there’s better light.”

She guided Janet into the kitchen with the stranger following slowly. They reached the counter where Emily had been sitting, and she indicated for Janet to sit on one of the stools.

The stranger entered, eyes darting from one side to the other, revolver held at the ready.

Emily swiped her coffee mug and cell phone from the counter while he was distracted. She slipped the phone into her bra and dumped the coffee into the sink. “No one else is here,” she said with her back to Janet and the stranger. Turning to face him, she pointed to the stool most distant from Janet and grabbed a clean dishcloth. “Sit there.”

Wincing in pain, he obediently climbed onto the stool.

Emily patted Janet’s arm as she passed. “Show me,” she ordered the stranger. Standing next to him, she could not only smell the blood but see where it had soaked through the side of both his shirt and jacket. She also caught the faint scent of alcohol on his breath.

He clumsily removed his jacket and lifted his shirt. Blood seeped from an angry gash along his ribs. It was short but deep, and its placement made for a painful wound.

She pressed the small towel against the gash and he hissed in response. “I’ve seen worse but you’re going to need stitches.”

“No doctors,” he growled.

“I thought you’d say that. I can do it but I’ll need to get some supplies from the bathroom.”

He leveled the revolver on the counter, aiming at Janet, and fixed his golden gaze on Emily. “If you’re not back in two minutes, I start shooting.”

She dropped the towel on the counter, and Janet whimpered as Emily stepped around the stranger, leaving the frightened girl in his direct line of fire.

“Wait,” he said, grabbing Emily’s wrist as she passed. “Empty your pockets.”

Emily slowly turned out her pockets, placing a few coins and an old crumpled shopping list on the counter. “Satisfied?”

“No. You.” He motioned for Janet to join Emily. “Pat her down.” His face contoured into a wicked grin. “I’m sure you remember how it’s done.”

Janet’s hands shook as she quickly ran them over Emily’s waist, legs, and torso. “She’s clean,” the girl muttered.

“Check her bra.”

Emily kept very still as Janet tentatively ran her hands over her chest.

Janet stepped back. “Nothing.”

The stranger smacked the back of Janet’s head, making her cry in pain. “Get your hand in there and feel between her tits, you stupid cow.”

Anger rippled through Emily but she forced herself to remain still. If she attacked him, he would undoubtedly kill them both. She could only hope Janet didn’t betray her and left behind the phone she hid in her cleavage.

“I’m sorry,” Janet whispered.

“It’s okay, dear. Just do what you need to do, and we’ll get out of this.”

Emily kept her focus on Janet as the girl reached inside her blouse. She felt Janet’s hesitation at finding the cell phone and saw the question in her eyes before extracting her empty hand.

“She’s clean,” Janet said, her voice a little more steady.

“Good.” He grabbed Janet’s arm, pulled her roughly against him, digging the revolver’s barrel into her side, and glared at Emily. “Your two minutes start now.”

Emily purposefully kept her pace to a brisk walk, determined not to let him see either her anger or her anxiety. Once in the hallway bathroom, she pulled her cell phone from her bra and grabbed bottles of rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide from beneath the sink. She used a hand towel to muffle the sound of her phone’s keys as she quickly typed in a text message:

“One minute,” the stranger called from the kitchen.

Emily hit the send button, dialed a preprogrammed number, and then switched the phone to silent mode. She stuffed it back into her bra and rummaged through the medicine cabinet, grabbing dental floss, tweezers, bandages, and a roll of tape. She gathered the supplies
and hurried back to the kitchen as the stranger began a countdown from twenty.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled when she dropped the supplies on the counter. He pushed Janet onto the stool beside him. “You stay there, where I can see you. I’ll need a snack after this, anyway.”

She ignored him and focused on Janet. “I need a needle. Do you have a sewing kit?”

Janet nodded. “Top drawer beneath the microwave.”

Under the stranger’s watchful gaze, Emily opened the drawer and riffled through the various take-out menus, expired coupons for Vlad’s Tears, paper clips, used twist-ties, and spare batteries until she located the small travel-sized sewing kit. She added three bowls, a roll of paper towels, and another clean dish towel to her pile of supplies.

Silence reigned between them as she filled one bowl with water and poured equal amounts of alcohol and hydrogen peroxide into the other two. She measured out several lengths of floss and dropped them into the alcohol along with the two small needles from the sewing kit. Finally she scrubbed her hands with hot water and a liberal amount of antibacterial soap. Using the water in the bowl and the towel she’d first used on the wound, she cleaned the site until she could see the edges.

“What’s your name?” she asked the stranger while she carefully threaded one of the needles with the sterilized floss.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I’d like to know the name of the man whose flesh I’m about to stick a needle into.”

He studied her for a moment before answering. “Kirk.”

“Well, Kirk, I’m going to need you to hold very still
and bite down on this.” She handed him the clean dish towel.

He looked at her in confusion.

“I don’t have any way of numbing this wound,” she explained. “It’s going to hurt. A lot. Unless you want the neighbors to hear you screaming and call the cops, I suggest you bite down on that towel.”

Kirk hesitated, apparently gauging her seriousness. “Just make it quick,” he said and stuffed the towel in his mouth.

“I’ll do my best,” Emily replied and drew a steadying breath.

As she guided the needle into Kirk’s side, the first of his muffled cries filled the kitchen.

VARIK ENTERED THE INTERVIEW ROOM IN WHICH PIPER
Garver sat, and waited for the girl to acknowledge his presence.

She looked up from the soda she nursed and flinched. “Who are you?”

“My name is Varik Baudelaire,” he said as he crossed the room, trying not to limp. “I’m an Enforcer with the Federal Bureau of Preternatural Investigation.”

“You’re a vamp?”

He nodded and sat down opposite her.

Her eyes scanned his battered appearance. “I didn’t think vamps could bruise like that.”

“No, we bruise same as humans. It just takes more force to do it and they fade quicker.”

She nodded and sipped her drink. “I’m going to jail, aren’t I?”

“Why would you think that? As I understand it, you’re one of the victims here.”

“I saw him kill that man and I didn’t do anything.” She choked back a sob. “I
couldn’t
do anything but run.”

“That was the smartest thing you could’ve done, Piper,” he said gently. He waited, watching her wipe away her silent tears with a shaky hand.

Damian had filled him in on the details of the attack. A vampire had tried to drag Piper from her car, and when a Good Samaritan intervened, the vampire had
killed the truck driver coming to Piper’s aid. The man had left behind a wife and five kids.

When it seemed as though she’d composed herself enough, he leaned forward. “Tell me what happened.”

“I already told that other vamp. Didn’t he tell you anything?”

“Yes, but I’d like to hear your story from
you.
”

Piper sighed and took a swallow of her soda. “Okay.”

As she related her story, Varik listened, stopping her every now and then to ask a question. She finished talking and he nodded. “That’s good, Piper. That’s very good.”

She gave him a weak smile.

“I have a couple of more questions for you though.”

“Okay.”

“You said you and your cousin, Mindy Johnson, worked for your boyfriend, Kirk Beljean?”

She nodded.

“What kind of work?”

“He called us blood bunnies. He would send us out to clients—vampires—so they could bite us.” She toyed with a loose thread on the arm cuff of her sweatshirt. “We were paid more if we also had sex with them.”

Varik had encountered similar operations in the past. Taking girls and turning them into blood whores disgusted him. Many of the humans caught in illegal blood rings were desperate for money or were enamored with vampires to the point they weren’t able to pass the rigorous psychological testing registered donors faced.

Operations such as Beljean’s were dangerous because of the potential for a vampire to lose control and accidentally—or intentionally—kill their human donor. It was the reason the Central Donor Registry existed and legal blood bars were established.