When Darkness Hungers: A Shadow Keepers Novel (Shadow Keepers 5) (20 page)

Take, and be
.

Leena groaned and rolled over, then cried out when she hit her head on something hard. She opened her eyes and sat up, her head fuzzy, but no longer feeling like it was about to explode. She blinked and tried to get her bearings. This was her house, and she was on the floor. She’d been curled up in a ball, but she didn’t remember arriving at the house at all.

The last thing she remembered was leaving Alexis and Edgar. Then—

Then what?

Then she was going to go home. She’d planned to work the map spell and see if the vampire that had killed Tori was on the hunt. With luck, the answer would be no because the killer vamp was dead. But she had a feeling that Alexis wasn’t going to be that lucky.

After that, she was going to do some poking around in
her books to figure out a way to find the vampire that had given his blood to Alexis.
Sergius
.

Something about that name made her shiver. There was no reason for it at all, but she wanted to run from it. Wanted to tell Alexis to run. Wanted to take her friend by the shoulders and shake her and tell her to stay far away, because if she got close everything would change, and not in a good way. No, not good at all.

Portents and predictions …

Over the years, Leena had learned to trust her visions, but this wasn’t a vision. It was simply a bad feeling. Not even so much
bad
as
odd
. She didn’t understand it, and she wasn’t going to share it with Alexis. Not yet, anyway. Especially when she knew that Alexis wouldn’t listen. No way her friend would back off until she found out what had happened to the girl. And Leena could only hope that this Sergius had saved her as he’d promised, because otherwise Alexis would never forgive herself for failing the kid on the beach.

Wincing, she climbed to her feet. A hundred fingers clenched her head, their nails digging into her tender scalp. The headaches were getting worse, but what really made Leena nervous were the blackouts. She’d actually gotten in a car and gone from Brentwood to West Hollywood, and she didn’t remember a bit of it.

She thought about telling Alexis, but what would be the point? She had enough on her mind without worrying that Leena was going to slide off into pain and suffering and be absolutely no use to the team.

Enough on her mind …

Finding the girl. Finding Sergius. Finding the vamp who’d killed her sister.

All things Leena could help with—all things she
would
help with, and right now.
Come on, girl. Get your ass moving
.

Except the headache had started up again. Slow to build, but there, pounding in the background, like some persistent knocking at a door. A visitor who couldn’t be turned away.

She’d long ago stopped hoping that the headaches would disappear. She knew better. Her mother had suffered from them, and so had her grandmother. But it wasn’t the headaches that worried her. These blackouts were new, and they scared her. For years, her mother had beaten her, called her stupid and useless and made Leena feel about an inch tall. But those moments of horror had been interspersed with hugs and kisses and what seemed like genuine adoration.

Leena had been ten when she’d realized that her mother’s vileness always followed a headache, and that her mother never seemed to remember what she’d done afterward. For years, Leena had thought she was lying, hiding behind a false curtain of memory loss. Now, though, she had to wonder if her mother had been telling her the truth.

The possibility turned her blood cold, and she forced the thought from her mind. She could never do that—could never beat her children. Shout horrible things at them. She wasn’t that person, couldn’t ever be that person.

She thought of Alexis, the first close friend she’d had in a life filled with acquaintances. She knew that friends were supposed to share hopes and dreams and fears and all that stuff. Hell, she’d been out for drinks with Alexis
and Brianna in New York before the move to LA, and she’d watched the way the actress overshared, giving the other two women blow-by-blow descriptions of her dates with actors, of her encounters with lascivious producers, of her drunken nights at Hollywood parties. Just the thought of revealing herself that much to someone made Leena want to go hide under a bed. But at the same time, some small part of her wanted to share her fears. Wanted the reassurance from Alexis that she was totally okay.

Maybe they could find time to grab a drink, and maybe Leena would get up the nerve. Her mouth curved into an ironic smile, because
maybe
was as much of a crutch as the cane she’d been using since her first—and last—year hunting vampires. She’d had a stake; he’d had a knife. After that, Leena had done her fighting with herbs and spells, letting other people act as her eyes and ears and legs and arms.

So, yeah.
Maybe
she’d talk to Alexis. But maybe first she ought to keep her head in the game. This wasn’t about her headaches or her insecurities or any of her stupid shit. This was about finding the vampire that had killed Alexis’s sister. This was about continuing the Dumont legacy in the only way she could.

She touched her fingertips to her temples, but this time it was only out of habit. No sign of the headache lingered. She felt awake. Refreshed. And with renewed determination she went to the black lacquered cabinet that had belonged to her mother and her grandmother before her. She opened the door and pulled out the roll of crushed black velvet. It smelled of lavender and anise and soot, and when she spread it on the table, the odors washed over her like memories.

Mostly, though, it smelled like power. Because this was magic … and with it, she’d find a killer.

Alexis was getting nowhere.

She’d been holed up in the cellar for hours trying to track down a vampire she only knew was named Sergius using that amazing computer equipment that Edgar so raved about. Needless to say, she’d managed to find exactly nothing. Searching in the human world was easy. Searching for a vampire? Not so much.

Now light streamed in through the small window that was actually at ground level. It flashed and snapped as it bounced off the water in the pool, a kind of mystical Morse code, telling Alexis that night had passed. It was a brand-new day, and she’d managed to accomplish nothing.

A new day?

With a start, she realized that she’d worked through the night, and wasn’t tired at all. She reached for her coffee cup, but it had gone cold hours ago. She’d been running on adrenaline, not caffeine.

Not adrenaline.
Him
. His blood.

It flowed in her, and she sat stiffly at her desk, waiting for a wave of disgust that she was certain would come. But it didn’t. Instead, there was something oddly comforting about knowing that his strength surged through her. It warmed her.

She told herself that made sense. He’d helped her, after all. And he’d promised to help the girl.

She told herself that … but it wasn’t true.

No, that curling warmth she felt inside her wasn’t because
of trust or gratitude, it was pure, hedonistic pleasure. A decadent sensuality that she couldn’t share with anyone else, certainly not with Leena, who’d taught her everything she knew about vampires. And not with Edgar, who looked at her as a daughter, and whose eyes would surely fill with disappointment if he knew the direction of her dreams.

She hadn’t invited Serge in, but she hadn’t pushed him out, either. She’d awakened with the memory of Sergius’s hands stroking her, of his lips caressing her. A dream, a fantasy, and yet it had lingered.

It lingered still.

She knew it was the blood.
His blood
, now flowing in her veins. That was the excuse, the reason.

And yet the hard truth was that if she could slice her vein and let that blood flow out of her, she wouldn’t do it.

All she feared now was that she was searching for him for the wrong reasons. Was it truly about finding the girl? Or was his blood playing sweet tricks on her?

No. He was a vampire, plain and simple. If he’d helped the teen, she’d give him a pass. But blood or no blood, if it turned out that he’d harmed the girl, he’d soon feel the pain of one of her stakes through his heart, dreams and fantasies be damned.

Enough
. Time to get back to work. For that matter, time to focus on something other than Sergius, and she was damn well going to learn what she could about Homeland Security, and what that particular agency had to do with vampires.

She pushed herself up out of her chair and crossed the room to the coffeemaker. Maybe his blood had kept her awake throughout the night, but now she wanted more
conventional indulgences. She filled her cup, then poured in about a gallon of cream to cool it off. She chugged down half the mug on her way back to her desk, then downed the rest as she dialed. The phone was answered by an efficient operator, but when Alexis asked to be put through to the agent handling either the Penny Martinez murder or the discovery of the mummified corpse on Venice Beach, she might as well have heard crickets chirping in response. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t have that information. Is there a particular party to whom I can direct your call?”

“Sure. Why don’t you transfer me to Agent Severin Tucker.” She held her breath, expecting the operator to pause, and then tell her that no such agent existed. To her surprise, the line clicked and after a few seconds of hold music, another voice came on.

“Division Six.”

Alexis stalled. Division 6? “I’m trying to reach Severin Tucker.”

“I’m sorry, but Agent Tucker isn’t available. If you’d like to leave your number—”

Alexis hung up, pondering how to proceed. What she wanted was an actual meeting with the elusive Mr. Tucker. In person and in public. And, of course, well armed. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d manage that, though, particularly since Agent Tucker presumed he’d wiped her memory. Not to mention the little fact that since she wasn’t really with the FBI, she could hardly call to suggest an interagency meeting.

She may not have a way through Agent Tucker’s door yet, but in the meantime she would learn everything she could about him—and about Division 6.

“What is it?” she asked Marcus James, the one person
she knew who actually worked at Homeland. They’d met in college at one of Brianna’s famous parties. They’d gone to a couple of movies and shared a few dinners, but Alexis had cut it off after Brianna had commented on how perfect they were for each other and how Marcus was falling for her. Alexis hadn’t been the least bit interested in dating. All she’d wanted was to finish college with a degree and a GPA that would impress the FBI recruiters. Personal distractions would only take her away from that goal.

“Great to hear from you, too,” Marcus said. “I’m well. Life’s been busy.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just—”

“Working a case? Busy? Don’t worry, I get it.”

“So?” She tried to hide her exasperation. She needed answers, not small talk.

“Honestly, I’ve worked here for years, and I’m still not entirely sure. It’s elite, that much I know. Division Six is where the secret stuff goes to hide.”

That was intriguing—vampires certainly counted as
“secret stuff”
—and Alexis filed the information away. But she still didn’t have any concrete information about Division 6 or Severin Tucker. Or about Sergius or the teenage girl. All she had was more questions. Which meant that after hours of working, all she was really doing was moving backward.

Well, damn.

She tapped a key on her computer, determined to try a different approach. Sergius had run away with the girl in his arms. Maybe she could track both of them. She logged into a website to which she had no legal access, the password for which she’d paid a very steep price. It took a moment for the image on her screen to resolve,
and then she found herself looking through the various cameras set up along Venice Beach. Private webcams and security cams, public surveillance videos, ATM vids. Whatever footage from last night that she could get streamed to her computer. She was hoping for a glimpse of the attacking vampire, but so far she’d seen nothing. As far as she could tell, the whole episode had taken place in a section of beach that was completely lacking in surveillance.