Alexandra Sabian 2 - Blood Secrets Read online

  “First, you blab around campus about my business, and now you’re bleeding on my carpet.” He grabbed her hair and dragged her across the floor to the tiled eating area separating the living room from the kitchen. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to get blood out of carpet?”

  She screamed and slapped at his hand. Her fingernails sliced his flesh.

  His temper exploded. He released her, ripping strands of hair loose, and grabbed the front of her shirt. Shoving her against the kitchen island cabinet, Kirk straddled her, his face inches from hers. “Who did you talk to, bitch?”

  Amber Lynn wailed as he slammed her head against the hardwood cabinet. “I-I didn’t say anything!”

  “Liar!”

  Blood and mucus trickled from her nose. “Please, Kirk—”

  “Piper wouldn’t have brought you here for no reason!” He shook her and she howled again. “Tell me who you talked to and I may let you live.”

  The girl sobbed hysterically but she rattled off several names, people he didn’t know.

  “That’s all of them?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  He tugged on her shirt, lifting her torso from the floor, and kissed her, tasting the blood that filled her mouth. He shivered as random memories flooded his mind.

  She gasped for air when he broke away, only to have it leave in a rush as his fangs sank into the tender flesh of her neck.

  Blood gushed into his mouth but he didn’t swallow it. He shook his head like a dog with a favorite toy, digging his fangs deeper and shredding tissue.

  Amber Lynn’s heart raced, pumping more of her blood through her system. Little gurgles were the only noise to escape her rapidly paling lips.

  Kirk released his hold on her, and she flopped against the cabinet, struggling for breath. He cocked his head, watching for a moment, and then stood. He walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. Twisting off the cap, he gulped down half of the bottle while listening to Amber Lynn’s feeble attempts to draw a breath grow weaker and finally cease.

  The lingering smell of blood made his stomach rumble. He set the beer down on the counter and picked through the freezer section of the refrigerator. He selected a couple of Philly Steak & Cheese Hot Pockets and tossed them in the microwave. While they heated, he moved back to Amber Lynn.

  Her eyes were wide and staring at a fixed point somewhere beyond Kirk’s shoulder.

  He squatted beside her, picked up an arm, checked for a pulse, and finding none, allowed her arm to drop. Her hand smacked a puddle of blood, spraying his bare feet with dark droplets.

  She’d given him half a dozen names, all students. He knew from experience most could be bought or scared into silence. For now, however, the major information leak was plugged.

  Kirk stood, licked the traces of blood from his fingers, and grabbed his Hot Pockets. Sliding them onto a plate, he retrieved his beer and stepped over Amber Lynn’s prone body. He settled on the couch, picked up his game controller, turned off the soft music that had continued to play, and resumed his game.

  Alex and Varik both lay unconscious on the ground beside the car. Tasha motioned for Tony to follow her. “We have to help them.”

  Damian held out his arm to stop her. “Do not touch them.”

  “You saw what happened. They could be hurt. We can’t just stand by and do nothing.”

  “You can and you will, Lieutenant.”

  “They need help! We have to get them to the hospital!”

  Damian shook his head. “Moving their bodies could put both their lives in jeopardy.”

  “What?”

  “Save your breath, Chief Alberez,” the female vamp—Tasha had heard Varik call her Morgan—said. “Humans aren’t capable of understanding the metaphysical ramifications of what just occurred.”

  “Excuse me?” Tasha rounded on her. “I understand a hell of a lot more than you think, lady! I may not fully understand this blood-bond thing Alex and Varik share, but I have a pretty good idea that whatever just occurred has something to do with that bond.”

  Perfectly sculpted brows rose over the rims of Morgan’s sunglasses and she focused on Damian. “Blood-bond?” Her voice dropped an octave. “Why wasn’t the Tribunal informed of Enforcers Sabian and Baudelaire’s bonding, Chief?”

  With Damian glaring at her, Tasha suddenly felt like a child who’d revealed a secret to the one person from whom it was meant to be kept.

  “It’s a recent development,” Damian answered.

  Morgan moved to stand over the unconscious Enforcers. “I don’t see fresh bites. Scars, yes, but nothing I would declare as recent.” She shifted her attention back to Damian. “Would you care to revise your statement, Chief?”

  “Alex attacked Varik a month ago,” Tasha said, earning a disapproving look from Damian and one of curiosity from Morgan. “I was told that by doing so she reinforced a bond that already existed.”

  Damian groaned and swiped a hand over his face.

  “Interesting.” Morgan carefully picked her way through the weeds to stand before Tasha. “And when was this bond first established, Lieutenant?”

  Tasha glanced at Damian who kept his gaze heavenward.

  “I’m asking you,” Morgan said, “since Chief Alberez seems to be either ignorant of the situation or unwilling to share.”

  “Six years ago, in Louisville.”

  “I see. How did you come by this information?”

  “Stephen, Alex’s brother, told me. I was asking him questions about Varik.”

  “What made you seek out Enforcer Sabian’s brother regarding Enforcer Baudelaire?”

  “I didn’t trust him.” Tasha dropped her gaze to Varik’s still form. “Still don’t.”

  “Hmm.” Morgan moved past Damian. “A word, Chief.”

  “Does this affect the way the Tribunal will judge Alex’s case?” Tasha asked.

  Morgan paused and glanced at Tasha over her shoulder. Sharp white fangs gleamed in the sunlight when she smiled. “Oh, yes, it changes everything.”

  Tasha watched the two vamps move some distance away. The thought that she’d once again betrayed her oath as an officer crept into her head. But did it even matter anymore?

  She’d already stolen evidence. She’d already determined she would hand it over to whomever her mystery caller ordered. She would report on everything she’d seen and heard here. Her pledge to protect and serve had become twisted, and the inner voice that taunted her laughed merrily at her rising misery.

  “Well, I didn’t like the sound of that,” Tony said as he finally joined her. He nodded toward the obviously heated argument brewing between Damian and Morgan. “And I don’t much like the looks of that.” He swept his hand out to encompass the unconscious Enforcers. “I think Alex and Varik are going to wish they stayed down once they finally wake up.”

  In the distance, Tasha noticed a hearse bouncing over the rough terrain. “Coroner’s here.” She spun away from Tony, anxious to silence the laughter in her mind. “Will you take care of the body transfer? I want to check on something.”

  “Sure thing, Lieutenant.”

  She nodded her appreciation and headed in the opposite direction of both the hearse and the arguing vamps. The internal laughter continued as she rounded the remains of a white panel van.

  With shaking hands, she pulled a small flask from an inner pocket of her jacket beneath the Tyvek suit. Tipping her head, she let some of the liquid within burn its way down her throat.

  Drinking on the job, her internal tormentor chided. Just like your loser parents.

  Memories of her father coming home early because he’d been fired from yet another construction job for showing up intoxicated swept through her mind. Those shifted to memories of how her mother thought nothing of “having one for the road” before climbing behind the wheel of a school bus.

  She swore she’d never be like them. Yet here she was—the latest in a long line of pathetic scum that deserved all the shit they found heaped on thei
r heads.

  Maybe Caleb was right. If she continued to be a part of Maya’s life, her daughter would be just as screwed up as Tasha’s parents had made her.

  Tasha took another swig of the bourbon. As it slid into her belly, she slid down the side of the panel van to sit on the cold, dead ground that was a perfect reflection of her soul.

  Alex awoke surrounded by dense forest. What little sunlight filtered through the canopy above gave the ground a dappled effect. A cool breeze shifted the leaves and sent shadows skittering.

  She was searching for two shadows in particular and turned in a slow circle, stretching her senses to detect them. The scent of sandalwood and cinnamon wafted to her on a breeze from the left. Movement in that same direction drew her attention.

  A shadow darted among the trees, and she gave chase. Her feet flew across the ground, churning to catch up with the fleet figure she could now see running ahead. She burst through a thicket and came to a stop in a small clearing, the figure no longer in sight.

  “Damn,” she muttered. She scanned the trees but all was still.

  Voices whispered behind her and she spun, finding no one. The voices swirled around her. Snippets of conversations long forgotten rose to a crescendo and then vanished.

  “Where are you, you son of a bitch?”

  Over here.

  She spun, searching for the source of the voice, and once again found only empty forest.

  A hand trailed over her shoulder.

  She recoiled from the phantom touch. Her foot snagged on a root and she fell, twisting to land on her back.

  A silhouette blocked her view of the dense tree canopy and an uncomfortable weight pinned her. The specter cocked its head, studying her.

  “Get off me!”

  Alex screamed as a brilliant flash of light left her momentarily blinded. The light disappeared, as did the weight pinning her to the forest floor, and her vision returned. She sat up, looking for her phantom attacker.

  The forest remained quiet and still.

  “This bullshit is really starting to piss me off,” she muttered. Pushing to her feet, she brushed the ground debris from her clothing. “Varik!”

  Her call echoed in the forest.

  “Where are you?” She drew a deep breath, preparing another call.

  A shadow peeled from the base of a nearby tree and stepped forward.

  Alex watched as a young boy—she would guess his age to be no more than four or five—moved into the clearing with her. Black hair framed an angelic face dominated by large warm brown eyes that stared at her with open curiosity.

  “Hello,” he said with a hint of an English accent.

  “Hi,” Alex responded, uncertain.

  “Are you lost?”

  “Sort of. I’m looking for a friend.”

  “I know.”

  She frowned. “How do you know that?”

  “I heard you call his name.” He smiled. “My name is Edward. What’s your name?”

  “Alex.”

  He giggled. “That’s a boy’s name.”

  Alex looked at him more closely, noticing the way his clothing clung to his tiny body as if it was soaked through. Other things began to stand out. The ashen color of his skin. Dark circles under his eyes. Water dripping from his hair onto his collar. But it was the hair, the eyes, and the smile that sent her mind reeling. She’d seen them all before, on someone else. “Edward, who—”

  The leaves rustled overhead, and the boy stepped back. “I have to go now.”

  “No, wait!” Alex followed, but he melded with the shadows once more and disappeared. “Damn it!”

  Wind picked up, ruffled her hair, and carried the familiar smell of sandalwood and cinnamon. The breeze settled and a scent of leather wrapped around her, prickling her skin.

  Phantom arms encircled her.

  She pushed against the unseen force enveloping her. The smell of sandalwood and cinnamon strengthened her. Warmth filled her and she drew on the connection to fight the entity that had her in its grips. She thrust it away from her, leaving the stench of old blood in its wake, and she gagged.

  The shadow darted into the trees.

  She chased after it, calling to Varik as she ran. His scent grew stronger the farther she ran into the forest.

  “Alex!” Varik’s call rang out from somewhere to her right. “Where are you?”

  The wraith she chased shrieked in fury and shot heavenward.

  She stopped her pursuit. “Over here!”

  Varik appeared before her, dashing through the trees. He rushed forward and swept her into his arms. He lifted her from her feet, kissed her hard, and spun her around. Even after he broke the kiss, he continued to crush her to him. “I heard that scream and thought I’d lost you.”

  “No, I’m fine. It was the shadow-thing, and you can put me down now. I’d like to breathe again.”

  He traded his embrace for a firm grip on her hand. “Where the hell are we?” he asked, looking around at the trees.

  Alex’s gaze swept the area. “The Shadowlands. It’s sort of a—”

  “Metaphysical no-man’s-land.”

  She stared at him. “Yeah. How do you know that?”

  He tapped his temple. “Blood-bond.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Plus, you talk in your sleep.”

  “I do not!”

  “You also have very noisy and vivid dreams.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He grinned. “I especially liked the one featuring you, me, and the chocolate fountain. Seemed a little messy but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

  Her face warmed. “We agreed to stay out of each other’s heads, damn it!”

  His arms slipped around her waist, pulling her close. “I’m keeping my end of the bargain. It’s not my fault your brain leaks.”

  Alex grunted in disgust and pushed him away. “Whatever. None of this matters right now. We have to get you out of here before that shadow-thing comes back.”

  “Me? You mean us.”

  She ignored his correction and pointed to a distant patch of sunlight. “There’s a break in the trees over there. Hopefully we can reach it before either the shadow-thing or a sweeper finds us.”

  “What the fuck is a sweeper?”

  “Big tornado that moves through the Shadowlands. It finds unauthorized consciousnesses and kicks them out. You and I qualify as unauthorized.”

  “What do you have to do to be authorized?”

  “You have to be dead.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah, so let’s go before one shows up.”

  As she strode forward, Varik dug in his heels, his hold on her hand keeping her from leaving. “Hang on. How do you know so much about this place?”

  “We don’t have time to play twenty questions.”

  “I know this isn’t your first time in the Shadowlands. How many times have you been here?”

  She chewed on her lip and avoided making eye contact.

  He ducked his head into her line of sight, forcing her to look at him. “Alex?”

  “I don’t know. I lost count.”

  “This is how you’ve been spending your suspension? Wandering the Shadowlands?”

  “I wasn’t wandering. I had a purpose.”

  “And that purpose would be what, exactly?”

  She sighed and then continued in a rush. “I’ve been looking for my father’s killer.”

  Varik groaned. “Alex, you know—”

  “He’s a lost soul,” she interrupted. “He told me so. I can’t let him roam the Shadowlands forever, and what little information I’ve gotten on—”

  “Whoa, back up.” Varik raised his hands to slow her down. “You’ve seen and talked to Bernard? Here?”

  She nodded.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Shit. What has he told you?”

  “Not much, just answered questions about the Shadowlands and the Hall of Records. It’s not like I’ve been spending every waking
moment here. Sometimes I see him, but most times I don’t.”

  “Hall of Records?”

  “It’s not a real place, but—”

  “I know what it is.” Anger flashed in the depths of his dark eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you could access the Hall of Records?”

  Her own anger rose to meet his. “I didn’t know I could, and once I did know, I didn’t think it mattered! Besides, how am I supposed to know you know about any of this? It’s not like you’ve been forthcoming with shit from your past.”

  “Do not try to shift this argument to me. You should’ve told me about Bernard and the Hall from the start.”

  “You don’t tell me everything. Why should I tell you anything?”

  “Because we’re bond-mates! That’s why!” His eyes shifted from dark brown to molten gold. “I can’t protect you if you don’t fucking trust me!”

  “Don’t lecture to me about trust, Varik! For your information, I do trust you, but it’s a two-way street and you’re making this a hell of a lot harder than it needs to be. And what are you going to protect me from? Sweepers? The Tribunal?” She gestured to the surrounding forest. “That shadow-thing?”

  “Yes, all of that.”

  Alex scoffed and shook her head, muttering, “You’re as bad as Stephen.” She paced a few steps away then faced him squarely. “I’m not a child. I’ve been an Enforcer for over twenty years. I can take care of myself. You can’t protect me from everything, Varik. I don’t want you to protect me. Don’t you understand that?”

  “How can I when you barely talk to me unless we’re working a case?”

  “I talk to you,” she whispered, crossing her arms in front of her.

  “No, you don’t.” He closed the gap between them. “You keep yourself walled away so I can barely sense you through the bond, except for snippets of dreams. Whenever I try to talk to you about our past, or our future, you shut down.”

  She shivered as he slipped his hands up her arms.

  His voice softened. “You don’t respond when I say I love you.”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “I want you to tell me how you feel.” He leaned forward and his breath warmed her face. “About me, us.”

  “I don’t know how I feel.”