by SF Benson
What the hell?
Mr. Freakish looked down at me. “When the Master calls for you, you obey.”
Master? Had the brother lived under a rock?
If I could have moved, my hands would have gone to my hips. Instead, I said in a loud voice, “Listen, brother, if you haven’t heard, we were emancipated a long time ago. No more masters and definitely no slaves. Got it?”
My body tingled, and I was able to move. I stepped sideways, but Mr. Freakish cut me off. “This isn’t up for discussion. You can either get into the car or I’ll put you in it.”
Something told me I was better off going freely. I had the distinct feeling that the brother could be quite unpleasant when he wanted to.
Sitting behind the unenlightened brute, I studied him. The misguided brother wasn’t human—amazing how I could sense the unnatural. There was something abnormal about him. I had nothing against a dark-skinned brother. Hell, I knew quite a few extremely handsome ones. But that man was so dark he was more like a shade. If you turned the lights out, you’d lose him.
It disturbed me, a little, that I couldn’t detect a heartbeat. After walking the Quarter and being assaulted by the cacophony of pulses and other bodily noises, I appreciated the quiet.
Alexander’s words came back to me. “We’re not the only supernaturals in the world. The planet is plagued with all matter of creatures. Different species of shifters, witches, and such. There are demons too.”
Glancing out the heavily tinted window, I noticed the brother drove away from the Central Business District. Where the hell was he taking me?
It wasn’t like I could bolt from the vehicle. I’d already tried the door and found it locked. All I could do was sit back and wait for the ride to end. Ten minutes later we were in the Garden District with its opulent Southern mansions. I held my breath as the limo stopped in front of a two-story mansion with an ornate wrought-iron fence.
The car door opened. “We’re here. You may get out.”
The towering male led me through the gate and up a set of stairs. He opened the fancy-scrolled door, and I followed him into a dimly lit front room.
“Is this shit for real?” I said, glancing around the old school décor. Crystal chandeliers, antique furniture that belonged in a museum, heavy gold-colored drapes, and a marble fireplace ruled the scene.
The tall freak pointed to a lumpy davenport. “Wait there.”
“Whatever.” I decided not to argue and planted my butt on the sofa.
The presence—stately, elegant, and totally in charge—hit me before I saw who it belonged to. A lanky man with a perfect tan glided into the room and sat on a nearby chair. The black jeans and black button-down seemed out of place in the surroundings. On some level, the man was attractive if I’d liked the tall, dark, and creepy type. Personally, I’d never be fond of men sporting ponytails. His silky black hair was held with a scrap of leather. His black eyes never left me. He waved his hand, and the brother left the room.
A sharp metallic smell hit my nose. Blood? Was the man a vampire?
He sat back, scratched beneath his beard, and then steepled his long fingers. “Miss Reynolds, ya reign of terror and chaos must stop.”
My eyes narrowed. “How do you know my name?”
“It ‘don madda,” he drawled. His accent was so distinctly native. I’d bet any amount of money he was one of those genteel and proper Southern gentleman before he was turned. “My name is Kragen. Ta settle ya curiosity, I am a vampire.”
My life just kept getting weirder. “Look, you can’t pin anything on me. As far as you’re concerned, I’m a ghost.” I rose to my feet. “I’m out of here.”
He smirked. “Not so fast. This is my city. I don’t appreciate the havoc ya causing here. Frankly, none of us have the time ta clean up behind ya ass. Rogues like ya give supernaturals a bad name.”
His city? Did he suddenly become mayor overnight?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’m nobody’s rogue.”
“Tell me what clan you’re with?”
“Clan? Did I fucking step back in time? I’m not with anyone.” I didn’t have a clue what he was going on about.
“Thought so.” Kragen snapped his fingers, and Mr. Freakish returned. “Find my son.”
So the brother was some sort of servant?
“If this is some sort of supernatural hook-up, I’ll pass. I’m already spoken for.” I walked toward the hall.
“Enough.” He waved his hand. My vocal cords seized up, and I couldn’t move. Again. “I’m going ta ask ya a few questions, but I only want answers. Nothing else.” He waved his hand again. “Did Alexander St. John turn ya?”
A strange sensation moved through me. It was like the truth had become a living thing and was trying to escape my mouth. I tried to fight it, but the word tumbled from me. “Yes.”
“How long ago?”
I was told not to say anything. My feet itched to move, and my palms sweated. Maybe a couple of nights.”
Kragen tilted his head and closed his eyes. In seconds, the enslaved brother entered the room. At his side were two very handsome men—one with blond messy hair and the other a brunette with perfectly groomed features. I sensed they were into each other.
The blond asked, “You called for me?”
Kragen pointed at me. “Is this the one you saw at the club?”
Golden Boy glanced at me with lust-filled eyes.
So, he plays both sides of the fence. Interesting.
“Yeah, Dad. It’s her.”
Dad?
How was that possible?
Kragen glared at me. “I suspect she’s suffering from bloodlust. That’s the only explanation for the devastation she left behind.”
Devastation?
Bloodlust?
They were talking about me like I wasn’t in the room. “Somebody want to tell me what the hell is going on?”
Golden Boy spoke up. “You’re having an insatiable need for blood. Humans would say you’re addicted.” He cleared his throat. “It’s why you’ve killed so many.”
Great, I’m a damn addict. Thanks, Alexander.
Kragen cleared his throat. “If she keeps it up, Council will be on my doorstep.”
“What do you want me to do?” Golden Boy’s drawl sounded more twenty-first century.
“Acclimate her.” The older vampire stood and looked down at me. “Stay off the streets until we find St. John. If there’s another body ta clean up behind, ya will deal with me.”
Kragen rushed from the room with Mr. Freakish on his heels. Golden Boy eyed me like I was a piece of meat in a vegetarian buffet while the young pup at his side regarded me with insecure, suspicious eyes. Since I didn’t need the drama, I headed for the exit.
“I wouldn’t try it, if I were you,” Golden Boy warned.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Why not?”
“My father was quite serious. Nobody crosses him.”
Still having doubts about that relationship, I raised my chin and faced Golden Boy. “He doesn’t look like your father.”
“I took after my mother.”
“Should I talk to her? You know a little girl-to-girl chat?”
“She’s no longer with us.”
Granted, I didn’t know much about being a vampire. Honestly, I knew even less about supernatural shit. But I was an expert at sticking my foot in my big-ass mouth. “I’m sorry. How did she die?”
“She’s not dead,” he said matter-of-factly. “By the way, my name’s Clint. This is Colby.”
“Tabitha.”
Clint said, “Now that that’s out of the way, we need to get you settled into a room.”
“Hate to bust your bubble, but I have my own place. There’s no way in hell I’m staying in this freak show!”
9
An Unholy Bond
Morgan
* * *
Disrupting a vampire’s normal routine was a quick route to disaster. Father and Kragen we
re old school. They preferred resting in perfect solitude during the day while leaving their exploits for the evening. The simple fact Father never came home from the Bloody Bastard screamed volumes.
But tracking down leads all day kept us from going to see him right away. Avoiding Father only created a calamitous situation for everyone. He didn’t appreciate being kept waiting, especially by his family.
Ace received a message from Kragen that the vampiress had been picked up and questioned. Our illustrious leader, however, wanted more information about Alexander. Rather than get the details himself, Kragen sent us to speak with Father.
Business was a little slow, but it was still early. As we made our way through the bar, I observed the number of vampires present, more than usual, and they all seemed well-fed. Illicit sounds drifted toward me. I looked toward the ceiling. A little early for action in the VIP suites.
Opening the door to Father’s office, we found him in his usual spot. Rather than looking over the books on his desk, he sat with his eyes closed and a full goblet in his hand. An open bottle of Crimson Ridge was nearby. Fatigue and frustration were apparent on his face, and his thick, wavy black hair was ruffled like he’d been running his fingers through it.
I cleared my voice, and he looked at me. Unfortunately, his dark eyes didn’t miss what would become the bigger problem. More annoying than interrupting his daily habits. I swallowed hard. There was no way to hide my jeans and tank top.
My father had a major problem with me wearing anything less than a dress or skirt with heels. He firmly believed jeans were for women of dubious sexuality—his words not mine. He particularly hated how my tops overemphasized my big-ass boobs. I zipped up my jacket, effectively shutting down the floor show.
“Kragen sent us over to talk to you about St. John. Was he here?” asked Ace.
Right question from the wrong person. Father was still pissed about our engagement. He also didn’t like that we shared a bed in his house. It was the real reason why I continued to keep my marriage to Ace quiet. The backlash would be brutal.
“Father?”
“Yes.” He scowled and then shut his eyes again. Exhaling loudly, he said, “Forgive me. I haven’t had any rest. Those damn fools have been at it all night. A bunch of frat boys got a taste of ecstasy.”
I put a hand over my mouth to stifle my giggle. On occasion, a group of newly turned vamps made the mistake of tasting humans hyped up on drugs. That shit got into a newbie’s bloodstream and created havoc. It took a few days for the effects to die down. For some reason, they always ended up at the Bloody Bastard. In the meantime, Father and sometimes the BGS had to deal with a bunch of horny vamps.
My father drained his glass and poured out another healthy portion of blood. “I’m aware of what Kragen wants. Tell him St. John was here last night. He had a female in suite 207.”
I glanced up at Ace. “Was she pretty? Roughly about my height?”
Father squinted and tilted his head. “Light-brown skin. Curly hair. Curvy. Yes. She came to the bar and was given a key.”
“When did they leave?” Ace asked.
“During the day. He must have given her a daytimer charm.”
Interesting. “Has the room been cleaned?”
“No. I knew you’d want to see it. Find Everest. He has the key.” My father closed his eyes, letting us know we’d been dismissed.
Or so I thought.
“Ace can find the bartender. We need to talk, Morgan.”
My husband looked at me and then nodded before stepping out of the office.
“What’s going on?” I sat down in front of the desk.
“You tell me.” He scrutinized me briefly and then said, “I broached the subject with Deianira. She told me I must be mistaken.” Father sipped from his glass.
Teeny tiny bats fluttered in my stomach. Suddenly, I was too hot beneath the jacket, but I didn’t dare unzip it. Instead, I sat there and quieted my thoughts. Brick by brick I built a wall around them. If he suspected anything, he wouldn’t read my mind for confirmation.
He set down his meal, opened a desk drawer, and removed a file folder. Calmly, he slid it across to me. “Take a look and tell me that’s a lie.”
My hand shook as I reached for it. Inside was a copy of a document. One my father should have had no access to. He had no right.
“Who gave this to you?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. A dangerous edge had slipped into his voice. “Mrs. Broussard.”
A tendril of panic seized my chest. My heart beat double-time, and my blood curdled. Worst of all? I couldn’t speak. My voice was frozen, but it wasn’t magic doing it. No. Anxiety grew fingers and wrapped around my throat.
Father skewered me with an unflinching look. If he had been holding the glass, it would have shattered. Instead, it was resolve that cracked and flew into shards. The pressure around my neck eased up.
“We were going to tell you.”
He slammed his hand on the desktop, and the goblet hit the floor. “When fucking Hell froze over? It was bad enough you allowed that creature into your bed! Now, I have to call it my son?”
Yes, I had been too afraid to tell my parents about our marriage. Yes, I feared their judgment. Most of all, however, I wanted to spare my husband their inane prejudice, especially Father’s. For centuries, wolves served him. According to Mother, it was how things were done in the old country.
Somehow, my parents forgot the simple fact that theirs was a mixed marriage. Vampires and witches didn’t hook up. They definitely didn’t marry. Of course, my parents explained their relationship, claiming Mother’s heritage—being the granddaughter of Morgana Le Fey—excused them. Supposedly, it was a fortuitous union deemed beneficial for all supernaturals.
Bullshit!
My parents were snobs, pure and simple.
Particles of angry energy flexed throughout my body. Gripping the chair arms, I pushed to my feet. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you the truth, Father.”
“I’ll call our lawyer. Get this shit annulled.”
Ice moved through my veins, and I regained my strength. I fought for what I believed in. I fought to love who I wanted. There was no way my father, or anyone else for that matter, would intervene in my life.
“First, you can’t have my marriage annulled. It’s been consummated.”
He grimaced and said, “We’ll say he raped you.”
I balled my fists tightly, holding back the power tapping against my fingertips. It wouldn’t be good if I released the full force of my anger. The Bloody Bastard would be ruined and so would my relationship with my parents.
“No, Father. If you do anything to destroy what we have, I’ll never forgive you or Mother. I’ll make sure Colby and any other grandchild, or great-grandchild for that matter, not know either of you exists.”
A deathly pallor settled on my father’s face. “Choose your battle wisely, daughter. There will come a time when you need me, and I’ll forget you exist.”
It was a chance I’d risk.
Bobbing my head, I said, “You’re entitled to your opinion. I’ll speak to Mother. My husband and I will move out by the end of the week.”
“No. I want you gone now,” Father said through his teeth.
Not the words I wanted to hear, but we hadn’t given up the apartment yet. The lease was good for another month. Three adults in a one-bedroom would be tight, but we’d make it work.
“Fine.” I held up my chin. “I’ll just finish my work here as an agent, and we’ll be out of your way, Mr. Vladislav.”
I stalked to the door. When I reached the other side, I unzipped my jacket and went to find Ace.
§
When I walked into the suite, I gagged. Just because vampires didn’t emit bodily fluids, it didn’t mean they didn’t leave behind a trail. The stench was overwhelming. Musk and decay combined to create a toxic mephitis. I was tempted to dispel the stench with a quick incantation, but doing so would taint the evidence.<
br />
Ace paused. His brow furrowed briefly. “Are ya okay?”
I shook my head. “My parents know.”
His gaze flicked to the ceiling. “I figured as much. Who told?”
“No idea. Whoever it was gave him a copy of our marriage license.” I began walking around the room, taking in all the various stains. “Alexander is a pig.”
Ace resumed his perusal of the area. “It wasn’t just him. The vampiress was here too. Kragen said her name’s Tabitha. When do we move out?”
“Tonight. The three of us in a one-bedroom will be fun,” I said with sarcasm.
“You do realize Colby will most likely choose to stay with Clint?”
I stopped and glanced over at my husband. “Our son will have to fight his own battles. I can’t take on his and mine.”
“Was it that bad?”
“Worse. My father wants our marriage annulled.”
“He can’t do that.”
“He’ll claim you raped me.”
“Fuck! I’ll talk to him,” said Ace as he headed to the door.
“No! Leave it alone.”
“Morgan.”
“I’m serious.” Changing the subject, I said, “There’s nothing here for us to learn. We might be able to follow the trail, but something tells me that’s hopeless. Alexander moves too fast.”
Ace crossed his arms, and his anger hit me like a fist. “So what next?”
“Don’t be pissed with me. The best way to handle my parents is to let it die. Eventually, Mother will come around. She can’t stand it when we don’t talk.” I walked over to him. “For now, we go and pack our things. We’ll send word to Colby so he can make whatever arrangements he needs to make. Then, Mr. Broussard, I’m going to take you home and fuck your damn brains out.”
He lowered his arms and smiled. “Dawlin’, that’s a plan I can get with.”
* * *
By the time we reached my parents’ house, Mother was on the warpath. She was upset with Father, and she wasn’t too happy with me either. Ace went to pack our belongings while I had it out with her.
