Chosen by Blood (6 page)

“Bureau employees are tested regularly, often by Dr. Barker himself. Again, it’s a way to track the viability of the vaccine in the human population. Just recently, results showed the effects of the vaccine are holding. If there was any chance of the vaccine reversing itself, we’d know about it.”

“But are you absolutely positive all of them were inoculated to begin with? It would be easy for Dr. Barker to forge blood work results—”

“Why would he? Dr. Barker worked for the Bureau before I came on. He helped develop the vaccine, for God’s sake.” Mahone leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “He took it, just like all Bureau employees were required to. He made sure his scientists not only took it but agreed with the cause before they began working on the antidote.”

“What about guards? All human, I presume.”

“You presume wrong.”

Knox’s brow lifted. “Others?”

“A few. Just because we haven’t had Others on any of our teams before now doesn’t mean we haven’t been trying to integrate them. Most of them are in administration, but we’ve had a vamp, even a mage and a werecat, on our security detail.”

“A vamp from my clan?” Knox challenged, knowing it wasn’t the case. If one of his clan had been working for Mahone, he’d have known about it.

“No. We’ve pulled from a few of our international stations. Others we felt wouldn’t be tainted by wartime experiences.”

Knox smirked. “You mean Others who still live in the shadows. Who still abide by the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ principle. Smart of you, though a little hypocritical, considering it was your people that found us and persuaded us to ‘out’ ourselves in the first place.”

“It didn’t work out the way any of us had hoped. So what other possibilities are you thinking, other than the scientists being cured without their knowledge?”

Wanting to confront Mahone on his “didn’t work out” understatement, Knox nonetheless let the remark go. “Failing spontaneous reversal, the most likely scenario is the antidote was administered to Dr. Barker and the five other scientists. But did they take the antidote voluntarily or did one of them, or even someone else, force it upon them all? If so, why aren’t at least some of them talking?”

And how, Knox thought, could he be sure they weren’t? He studied Mahone, then decided the phrase “absolute necessity” applied at the moment. Swiftly and skillfully, he reached out, prodding Mahone’s thoughts, specifically focusing on whether Mahone was telling the truth about the antidote and the scientists.

What he discovered made his knees weak.

Mahone was telling the truth.

Mahone believed the antidote existed. He believed it had been forcibly taken from Dr. Barker and he wanted Team Red to get it back, not only to ingratiate himself to Knox, but to save Knox’s clan, including the vampire he loved.

Bianca Devereaux, Knox’s mother.

Knox pulled back and stared at Mahone. It appeared he could trust the human after all, at least with this. However, that didn’t mean Mahone’s superiors didn’t have a different agenda or that they were telling him the whole truth concerning the scientists.

“Greed comes in many forms, Mahone. If the scientists are culpable, how can we know they sold the antidote as opposed to destroyed it? Maybe they simply wanted to prevent vamps from getting our hands on the cure.”

Mahone snorted. “One hidden extremist in the group, maybe. But as you just pointed out, all five? No. Either they’re all guilty of selling the antidote or . . .” Mahone frowned.

“Or they’re all innocent,” Knox murmured. “You know that’s a possibility,” Knox urged, tapping the background files Mahone had given him earlier. “Each of them was handpicked and cleared for high-security work. All of them had an established history with the Bureau, some of them having worked on projects that would make finding an antidote child’s play by comparison. If they’d wanted to get rich by selling government secrets, they’ve had that opportunity many times in the past.”

Something like unease flickered across Mahone’s face.

“Let me read their minds,” Knox pressed. “I can—”

“I’ve already suggested that. Unfortunately, as you’ve just pointed out, getting into their minds would give you access to a hell of a lot more than their guilt or innocence in this matter. The President feels a little uneasy about that.”

“Where are the scientists?”

“Someplace secure. Someplace I don’t even know about.” He raised his brows at Knox’s silence. “If you’d like to read my mind again, you’ll see I’m telling the truth about that, too.”

“Am I supposed to feel guilty? Don’t worry,” Knox countered. “I didn’t probe too deep. As far as a vamp’s mother is concerned, there are some things a son just doesn’t want to see.”

Mahone scowled darkly, but Knox kept on talking. “What else is on the table?” he asked.

Mahone’s eyes rounded with feigned disbelief. “You mean the antidote itself isn’t enough? Is this the same selfless vamp leader I’ve heard so much about, willing to prove his loyalty to his clan at all costs despite the human DNA that sullies him?”

Gritting his teeth, Knox ignored the bait Mahone was throwing out. He couldn’t, however, dismiss the guilt and uncertainty that prodded him. Mahone’s comment wasn’t only an insult, it was one tinged with knowledge—of Knox’s father and his execution, and of Knox’s feelings for Felicia and what kept them apart. Still, did Mahone know what Knox was contemplating next?

As Knox had predicted, his recent trip to France hadn’t done a thing to lessen his desire for Felicia. In fact, it had strengthened his determination to have her. At the same time, however, he couldn’t deny that the Vamp Council’s recommendation for a new mate was a good one.

He’d grieved Noella’s death tremendously but he couldn’t deny it had given him a brief feeling of freedom—freedom to be with Felicia. It hadn’t lasted long. No matter Mahone’s disdain, Knox
was
duty bound to consider his clan’s best interests and marrying a human was not in it.

Unlike Noella, Michelle Burgeon wasn’t of royal lineage, but her family had tremendous influence where foreign vamps were concerned. Marrying her would unite Knox’s clan and those abroad, creating a bridge of solidarity that could only benefit them all. As much as he had to accept that, however, his trip had served other purposes. First, he’d had to make sure that Michelle would be a loving mother to his children. Second, he’d had to be clear with her about Felicia.

He’d do his duty, yes, but this time, however, he wasn’t willing to give up everything for his clan. Not when he could care for them and have Felicia, too.

Michelle had freely agreed to marry him knowing that he loved Felicia and would only stray from her for purposes of getting Michelle with child. Still, Knox hadn’t promised her anything. He couldn’t agree to marry Michelle or any vampire until he’d had more time with Felicia. More time to convince her that their love could transcend race and human morality. More time to convince her they belonged together no matter what his duty demanded of him.

He still wasn’t sure how he was going to do that, but Mahone could give him the opportunity to try.

With a start, he realized that Mahone was staring at him. Swiftly, he said, “Duty is one thing, Mahone, but I’m not discounting the fact that the antidote you’re dangling in front of me might not even exist. Even if it does, it may not be safe for humans or vamps to take. Then what good will it do me? I’m going to need more than a potential cure to do what you’re asking.”

“Fair enough,” Mahone retorted. “How about a half-million dollars then?”

“How about a million?” Knox countered.

“That would require additional authorization. Is that what you’re asking for?”

“To start with.”

“Don’t get too greedy now. We want you on the team, but we certainly don’t need you.”

“I think you do. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

“That still doesn’t—” A series of tinny beeps interrupted him. Mahone frowned and retrieved his phone from his pocket. “Excuse me.” He stared at his phone screen. Frowned. Looked up at Knox. “Are you familiar with a dharmire named Mara?”

Knox jerked in surprise. “Mara Jacobs. Why?”

“Because she’s in D.C. Not too long ago, she ran into some trouble.” Mahone quickly held up a hand. “She’s fine. She’s with Felicia.”

Knox took a deep breath, willing his taut muscles to relax. “Felicia?”

“She says the vamp will be back at the Dome before morning.”

“Tell Felicia to bring her to me.”

Mahone smiled. “Her message said to tell you she’s not going to.”

Annoyance came first. Then Knox smiled, too.

“Oh, and one other thing,” Mahone said, his widening grin obviously forming at Knox’s expense.

“What?” Knox asked cautiously.

“She said to cut the girl some slack and remember you were sixteen once.” Mahone laughed and shook his head. “Damn, the woman’s got balls. You gotta love her, huh?” Almost immediately, Mahone winced.

Knox nodded. “Yes. Gotta love her. Which, by the way, brings us back to our conversation.”

Understanding sparked in Mahone’s eyes. “So you’ll lead the team?”

“I’ll lead the team,” Knox confirmed. “For the antidote. For one million dollars. And for Felicia. None of which are negotiable.”

T
he next day, Knox hesitated outside his mother’s bedroom door just as a feminine laugh drifted through the smoothly polished wood. A wave of relief coursed through him, so intense he actually had to flatten one palm against the door to steady himself. He and the children had been in France for only a few days. When they’d returned, his mother had been too ill for visitors, so he’d left to meet with Mahone before he’d had a chance to see her.

It appeared his mother was feeling better. Perhaps she’d been given an infusion of pure blood or perhaps she’d simply fought off the weakness herself. Whatever had happened, Bianca Devereaux was laughing for the first time in a very long time.

Knox closed his eyes. Three hundred years ago, his mother had been vibrant and healthy, with long silver hair that sparkled more than the most precious of jewels and pale skin reminiscent of rose-infused cream. She’d looked exactly like the Queen she was—elegant, ethereal, almost too beautiful to be real—a royal vampiress whose pure blood was reflected in her regal posture, tall, slim lines, and symmetrical features. Back then, Knox had been too young to recognize the innate sensuality that had drawn men to her like flies, but she’d been fierce in her affection, in the way she’d taught him right from wrong, and in her devotion to her clan. She’d been strong, so much stronger than most female vampires once they had children, Noella included. That had started to change after Knox’s father had died.

Or to be more precise, his mother had changed, right after Knox’s human father had been executed for treason by order of the High Vamp Council. Given the circumstances, the vampire Queen’s attempts to overrule the Council’s order had been ignored.

Straightening, Knox tapped on his mother’s door. When it opened, he almost winced. He’d let himself dream because of one soft laugh. Looking at her now, there was no denying his mother barely resembled the strong vampiress she’d been at the beginning of the French Revolution.

It wasn’t simply that she’d physically aged when, as an immortal, she should have looked exactly as she had when Knox had been born. It wasn’t even the fact that grief had creased a perpetual furrow between her brows or that the hair that had once been smooth and shiny was now dull and clipped close to her head.

No, his mother’s decline was most evident in her grayish pallor and the sunken hollows of her cheeks. Beneath her nightdress, her limbs were frail, sleek muscle having long given way to sagging skin and protruding bone. Her eyes glimmered so feverishly that for a moment he feared for her sanity, but then she raised a trembling hand to his cheek. “Son. I’m glad you’re home.”

Knox quickly clasped his mother’s hand, kissed it, then cradled it against his face. As relieved as he’d been to hear her laugh, he was twice as relieved to hear her voice, soft and steady, cognizant of who he was.

With a small smile, she dropped her hand and motioned him inside the luxurious sitting room that adjoined her bedroom. Sinking onto a chaise covered in a creamy damask silk, she patted the cushion beside her. When he sat, he saw the photos and memorabilia scattered on the small coffee table. He wondered what had produced the laugh he’d heard. Wrapping her hands around one of his arms, she nestled her head on his shoulder. “So how are my grandchildren faring? Did Michelle and her family spoil them rotten?”

“You mean you don’t know already?” Knox teased, already aware his mother would never take liberties, even if she could, by reading his mind without permission. Long ago, the vamps in his clan had discovered a way to prevent other vamps from exercising their powers over one another; it wasn’t so much suspicion that had motivated the invention as much as a common need to feel secure in one’s own skin. Walking around thinking that anyone could read your mind or make you do things against your will didn’t exactly promote feelings of security. In that way, Knox understood why most humans feared them.

To his surprise, his mother’s eyes flickered with pain and skittered away at his joke, but not before Knox saw the truth in them. He sucked in a breath. “You can’t . . .”

Once more meeting his gaze, she shook her head, confirming that in just a few days, she’d indeed lost her power to read minds. “How . . .”

“A friend offered her permission for me to try and—and I couldn’t.”

Pity came first. “Mother, I’m sorry.” Although she’d long ago lost the ability to teleport, reading minds was one of the first skills a vamp developed. That she’d lost that power must be humiliating. Gently, he squeezed her hand.