Blood Secrets (28 page)

Perhaps that explained his collection.

He paused at the box on the floor beside the door. Inside were the remains of five of his dolls, destroyed and the souls contained within them lost. Their loss saddened him but in the end he’d gained his greatest possession—his most precious.

Gliding down the hallway to the largest bedroom, he carefully opened the door and slipped inside.

Alexandra lay motionless in the massive bed, her auburn hair a splash of color in the otherwise stark whiteness of the room.

Peter moved to the bed and stretched out beside her, keeping the thick comforter between them. He molded his body to mirror hers and draped an arm over her waist.

She whimpered and shifted in her sleep.

He only had a few more hours to work on severing the blood-bond before the drug he’d given her wore off and she awoke. He couldn’t give her another dose without risking permanent injury to her.

Time was short and he needed to work quickly.

He stroked her hair and kissed her neck, inhaling her natural scent of jasmine and vanilla. His desire to make her his forever was almost more than he could bear but he forced himself to have patience. Soon she would forget about Varik and love him instead.

She mumbled something unintelligible and tried to pull away.

“Shh shh shh,” he whispered. He flexed his arm and pressed closer, pinning her next to him.

She quieted and he nuzzled her neck once more. “It’ll be over soon and then nothing will take you from me.”

Peter closed his eyes and sighed, allowing himself to drift into the realm of her dreams.

Moonlight dappled the front lawn of 463 Alpine Way. Neatly trimmed grass, now brown and dormant in the November chill, played host to a collection of cement toads while colorful garden gnomes peeked out from behind evergreen hedges. Red siding and white trim gave the single-story bungalow homey warmth, but the large gathering of police cars with strobing blue and white lights kept visitors at bay.

Varik stood out of sight on one side of an awaiting ambulance, making final adjustments to the paramedic uniform he now wore, muttering, “I swear I’m going to use this son of a bitch’s balls for target practice.”

“You’re not going to do shit until I give the order,” Damian snapped from beside him.

Varik scoffed and carefully inserted a wireless receiver into his ear that would allow Damian to give him directions. A small radio transmitter was hidden in one of the ink pens stuck in a special pocket on the sleeve of his uniform.

He was taking a huge risk by attempting to sneak into the house disguised as one of the paramedics sent to retrieve Janet Klein. However, it was the best plan they’d devised, short of storming the house and putting Emily and Janet in even greater danger.

“I mean it, Baudelaire. We need this to be by the book with Dreyer in town.”

“You let me worry about Morgan.”

“Just because the two of you bumped uglies for a while doesn’t give you a free pass with her.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Then don’t do anything stupid in there.”

“Have you ever known me to do anything to jeopardize hostages?”

“Do you really want me to answer that? Because I
do
remember that incident in Munich.”

Varik glanced at the taller vampire. “That wasn’t my fault.”

“The building blew up.”

“The charge I used was small and was meant to be a diversion. The building collapsed due to shitty workmanship, and regardless, the hostages were recovered alive along with two of the kidnappers.” He slipped a Jefferson Memorial Hospital baseball cap onto his head. “Let’s check this transmitter,” he said and called out a series of numbers.

A moment later a voice repeated the numbers in Varik’s ear over the receiver. “It works. Now all we need is—”

“For JPD to bring the Garver girl over,” Damian finished.

“Fuck. What the hell is taking so damn long?”

“The fact that Piper is scared out of her mind had something to do with it,” Tasha Lockwood said from behind him.

He faced her and wasn’t surprised to find Morgan standing with Tasha and the obviously frightened Piper Garver.

Damian motioned for Tasha and Piper to join him as he stepped a few feet away and began explaining the plan to them.

Morgan’s eyes traveled to Varik’s feet and back up. “I’d forgotten how good you look in a uniform.”

“Save it, Morgan. Whatever you’re after, I’m not interested.”

She sidled closer and lowered her voice. “You may change your mind once you find out there’s a formal complaint levied against you.”

“For what?”

“Intimidation.”

“By whom?”

Her gaze darted to Tasha and back.

“Goddamn it to Hell.”

“You may even change your mind when I tell you I haven’t actually filed her report with the Bureau.” She traced the seam of his uniform along his shoulder with her finger.
“Yet.”

He twisted away from her. “What do you want, Morgan? Don’t give me that Tribunal bullshit either. You’ve been playing games ever since you came to Jefferson. Now, what do you really want?”

She hesitated and then whispered, “Enforcers have gone missing in Louisville.”

“How many?”

“Eight as of a few days ago.”

“Why haven’t I heard anything about this?”

“The information is strictly on a need-to-know basis. So far none of the missing Enforcers have been located—no bodies, no demands. Chief Magistrate Phelps is calling in regional directors from all over the country under the guise of an internal audit but its real purpose is to covertly determine if more Enforcers are missing or if it’s localized to Louisville.”

“Does Damian know?”

“Not yet.”

“What do you want from me?”

For a moment he thought he saw fear reflected in her hazel eyes. “When the time comes, I want—”

“We’re ready,” Damian called and Varik followed as
their group moved to the hastily erected barricade in front of the house.

He thought about what Morgan said. Eight missing Enforcers was certainly cause for alarm, but his primary concern at the moment was nailing the son of a bitch preventing him from finding his own missing Enforcer.

KIRK CLOSELY WATCHED THE THREE PARAMEDICS CARRYING
equipment and a bright orange stretcher board into the living room for signs of trickery. He kept a firm grip on Emily’s arm and the revolver pressed against the soft tissue beneath her chin, using her as a precautionary living shield.

“That’s far enough,” he said, stopping them short of reaching Janet, who lay in the center of the room. “Nobody touches the bitch until I see Piper.”

The one holding the stretcher shifted his weight.

“You.” Kirk gestured at him with the revolver. “Why are there three of you?”

“Two to carry the board,” he drawled in a thick accent. “One to carry equipment and hold an IV.”

A cell phone trilled and Kirk tensed. “Answer it,” he ordered Emily. “Keep it on speaker.”

She calmly pressed the button to answer the call. “Hello?”

“This is Chief Enforcer Damian Alberez,” a deep voice rumbled through the speaker. “To whom am I speaking?”

Kirk nodded his approval when she glanced at him.

“Emily Sabian.”

“Are you injured?”

“No, but Janet is.”

“Are the paramedics helping her?”

Kirk draped his chin over her shoulder. “She gets help when I see Piper. That was the fucking deal.”

There was a brief pause. “And you are?”

“I’m the one with the gun pointed at Emily’s pretty fucking face! If you want her to keep it, you send Piper in here
now
!”

“I can’t do that, son,” Alberez said evenly.

“You can and—”

“Kirk?”

Piper’s voice slammed into him and stole his breath. They’d actually brought her to him.

“Kirk? Can you hear me?” An edge of desperation crept into her voice.

“Yeah,” he muttered and then cleared his throat. “I can hear you.”

“They won’t let me come inside. They’re telling me you need to let the paramedics help that girl and give yourself up.”

“They can fucking go to Hell.”

“Kirk, please, just do what the Enforcers say.”

“Why should I? All I wanted was to see you and they won’t even give me that. Why the hell should I do anything they want?”

There was a pause, and when she spoke again, her voice carried a tinge of hopefulness. “Why did you want to see me?”

Once again, he marveled at her gullibility. “You know why.”

“You love me?”

He could no longer contain himself. He grabbed the phone, shoved Emily aside, and ripped open the blinds, searching the crowd for Piper. “So I could rip your fucking heart out and bathe in your blood, you lying bitch!”

A fist connected with his jaw, slamming him in the wall. He tried to raise the revolver, only to have it knocked from his hand. More blows struck his torso, leaving him breathless, and a final swipe of his legs sent
him crashing to the floor. Stars strobed and burst before his eyes as he tried to focus on the snarling face above him.

One of the paramedics—the one who’d been holding the orange board—knelt beside Kirk and rolled him roughly onto his stomach. The familiar heft and click of handcuffs settled around his wrists. “Get up, turdstain,” he growled with no trace of the heavy drawl he’d possessed earlier. “You’re not so tough when you don’t have a bunch of women to frighten, are you?”

“Fuck you,” Kirk gasped and stumbled over his own feet as he was handed off to one of the other Enforcers now swarming throughout the house.

“What should we do with him, sir?” an Enforcer asked the paramedic.

“He killed a human,” the Enforcer-paramedic said with a shrug. “Automatic death sentence. Take him out back and shoot his ass.”

“No!” Kirk strained to free himself from the Enforcer’s ironlike grip. “You can’t do this! You have no evidence! This is fucking murder!”

“We have witnesses who saw you snap that truck driver’s neck. That’s all the evidence we need.”

“I can give you names! Lots of names!”

The Enforcer dressed as a paramedic shook his head. “Not interested.”

“Mindy Johnson!” Kirk screamed as the Enforcer holding him dragged him into the kitchen. “I can give you the last person to see Mindy Johnson alive!”

The Enforcer-paramedic held up his hand and the one holding Kirk stopped. “Say that again.”

“I can give you the last person who saw Mindy Johnson alive,” he repeated between ragged puffs.

The Enforcer-paramedic smirked. “Congratulations, kid. Now I’m interested.”

* * *

“Princess.”

Her father’s soft voice called to her and Alex recoiled, closing her eyes and covering her ears with her hands. Wasn’t it enough for Peter to dredge up the most painful memories of her and Varik’s past? Was she now doomed to relive her father’s death as well?

“Princess,” he called again, more insistent.

“Go away,” she mumbled. Chains clanked and rattled as she tightened her protective curl.

Gentle but firm hands wrapped around her arms, tugging her upright. She kicked and hurled curses at whoever held her.

“Alexandra!” The hands transitioned to the sides of her head, forcing her to meet a pair of emerald green eyes rimmed in gold. “It’s me!”

Her struggles ceased, replaced with a wash of relief. “Daddy.”

He smiled, showing perfect human teeth, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. The Irish lilt to his voice made his words almost musical. “There’s my girl. I was beginning to worry that I might be too late.”

“Too late?”

“To help you.” He pulled her to her feet. “We have to hurry before he discovers I’m here.”

Alex glanced at the video monitor, now playing a scene from her past in which she and Varik were working security for a high-profile vampire official. They’d been forced to hustle the official out of the building after someone in the crowd had opened fire.

She remembered the night well. It was the first night Varik had acknowledged he had feelings for her beyond teacher and student. Forcing down the rising sense of anguish, she watched as her father attempted to remove her chains. “Why is he doing this, Daddy?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Princess?” He grunted as he tried to pry open the bands covering her wrists. “The Dollmaker has been obsessed with you for years. I think that much should be clear from the number of dolls resembling you that we saw.”

“But why? What did I do to draw his attention?”

“I don’t know, but if I’d known any of this when I was still alive …” He let the thought trail away, shaking his head. He gave her wristbands a final tug and sighed in frustration. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t stop. Please, keep trying.”

“No, I wasn’t apologizing for the chains. I meant I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you, Princess, to watch you grow up.”

“It wasn’t your fault you were murdered.”

“Regardless, I just wanted you to know how proud I am—”

His declaration was cut short as a dark shadow rammed into his midsection, knocking Alex to the floor as it passed.

“Daddy!” She tugged at her chains, helpless as the specter and her father tumbled and struggled to gain the upper hand on the other.

Her father rolled backward, lifting his feet, and tossed the wraith aside but it was up and moving again before her father was able to rise to more than his knees.

“Too slow, old man,” the shadow growled from where it crouched in the corner.

“I may be a little slow but at least I’m not a coward hiding behind smoke and mirrors.” Her father gained his feet and slowly stood up. “But, then again, that’s always been your specialty. Hasn’t it, Peter?”

The dark mass rippled, solidified, and took on the appearance of the Dollmaker. “No fair trying to take what I rightfully stole, old man.”

“Life isn’t fair, Peter. That’s one thing you never could accept.”

A savage grin sliced across Peter’s face. “Why should I when I hold the power to level the playing field?”

“You’re a murderer.”

“Who’s the pot and who’s the kettle here, old man? You took more than a few lives yourself.”