Bloodshed (The BlackGuard Society Book 2)

by SF Benson

  When Ace sat down, I crossed my legs and leaned into him. “Vampires who get started on blood straight from the source have a hard time weaning from it.”

  “Think of it like a drug,” added my husband. “If ya used to only the pure stuff, getting a cut product has little to no effect. Ya have to use a lot more to get satisfied.”

  She nodded. “I see that, but it’s not my fault.”

  Clint grasped her hand. “They’re not blaming you.”

  They were awfully chummy. A little too much for my comfort, but then again, I was thinking like a parent. I could only see the male who fucked up and broke Colby’s heart sitting beside the reason for the hurt. There was absolutely nothing Clint or Tabitha could do or say that would make me change my opinion about them.

  “Okay. Ya say ya want to trap St. John. Any ideas?”

  “I want to bring Kragen in on whatever we do,” Clint said.

  “Then why the fuck bother coming to us.” I folded my arms. “You could have gone straight to him.”

  “True, but I believe Edwina should be involved too.”

  Ace nodded. “Problem is Kragen won’t include her in any mission designed to end St. John.”

  Clint said, “I know. My father’s so afraid of pissing off the vampire community. Ending St. John could have disastrous consequences for the BGS. Kragen will do whatever is necessary to avoid that outcome.”

  “So what are ya suggesting?” Ace asked.

  “Tabitha and I will talk to Kragen. He has to be the one to approve pursuing St. John. Once we have is permission, you can contact Edwina. You might want to reach out to Rodrigo and Etienne too. I’ll go to Cassandra. We’ll meet and devise the best way to trap St. John.”

  Honestly, if my father and I were on speaking terms, his help would be invaluable.

  Clint, apparently reading my mind, added, “If we need Julien, I’ll speak with him.”

  Tabitha drained her glass and reached for the bottle again. Clint took it from her. “Y’all can count on me for whatever’s needed. St. John has to be stopped.”

  I envisioned a wall and sealed my thoughts behind it as I observed Clint and Tabitha. First, they were sitting too close for comfort. Second, he was too attentive to her needs. Clint didn’t allow her to pour her own blood. What was he going to do? Support her next victim’s neck to make the bite easier? He glanced up, and his eyes met mine. Lust danced in his gray-green eyes.

  He wants the vampiress.

  Suddenly, the key fit the lock, and everything made sense. Clint’s rough treatment of my son had to do with frustration. The dhampir had finally met someone who touched his heart. The reality most likely confounded him. For years, he had been the bon vivant and Crescent City’s most eligible supernatural bachelor. Falling for someone had never been in the cards for him, but he was so enamored of Tabitha his whole aura was unraveling.

  “Okay, Clint. We’ll do our part. I want Alexander off the streets just as much as you do. Maybe more.” I watched the couple a few more seconds before Ace showed them to the door.

  Once they were gone, I lowered the wall in my mind. “You did see what I saw?”

  “Yeah, dawlin’. Clint is ready to pop.” My hubby sat on the chair and tugged me onto his lap.

  “Now the whole situation between Clint and Colby adds up.”

  “I still don’t like it.” Ace pulled me closer. “We all experience our first love, but Clint is older. He should have handled it better.”

  “True, baby.” I gave my husband a quick peck. “Do you believe Tabitha really wants to take down her sire?”

  “I sensed that something happened between them, but we shouldn’t trust her.”

  “Agreed.”

  * * *

  While Ace prepared dinner, I contacted Edwina. It wasn’t something I wanted to do, but I didn’t have any other options. Out of everyone in the BGS, the hybrid was the only one who’d actually spent time with Alexander. She knew him better than any of us did. Although motherhood had curtailed a lot of Edwina’s activities, she was more than happy to meet about her sire.

  “What can you tell us about St. John?” I asked as we shared a bottle of crimson.

  “He’s a motherfucking predator. We met through Marie Laveau.”

  A familiar name to many of us in the BlackGuard. “Why did she introduce you to him?”

  “It was a direct meeting. Ever hear of the plaçage balls?”

  “Weren’t they also called quadroon balls?”

  “Yes. Laveau had me sign a contract and then introduced me to the man in charge of one of the dances. It was there that I met St. John and became his placée. He set me up in a cottage over in Faubourg Marigny.”

  I shuddered. “It was a business transaction?”

  “Exactly. I was given a fancy dress and cleaned up to appeal to the white men attending.”

  “Couldn’t you tell he was a vampire?”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered. I was a runaway. Plus, there were laws in place keeping freed coloreds from moving about freely. All St. John had to do was report me to the authorities. I could have been returned to my granddaddy’s plantation or worse. Becoming a placée was honest work. It kept a roof over my head and food in my belly.”

  “But it put you at that asshole’s mercy.”

  “It did, but I thought I was smarter. Besides, what could I have done? I was still young to witchcraft and had no control over my powers. If I broke the contract, I could have been tossed into jail—or possibly killed. Even without being turned, I was already dead.”

  Time had been unkind to Edwina, but she didn’t seem bitter. Far from it. The experience had made her stronger.

  “Why wouldn’t Kragen let you go after St. John?”

  She shook her head and reached for her goblet. “I was told it went against the BlackGuard’s oath.”

  Protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves.

  “That’s bullshit. We’re talking about a vampire. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself.”

  “I argued the point but was still asked to leave the city.” She took a sip. “Kragen summoned me to his house and told me I was in violation of the rules. My pursuit of St. John was deemed a personal matter. Not a public issue.”

  In all honesty, someone could say Kragen’s refusal to go after vampires was a conflict of interest.

  “You went to Europe, right?”

  “I did. From time to time St. John and I crossed paths, but he always evaded capture. Eventually, I gave up. When the BGS gave me permission, I returned to the States.”

  Listening to Edwina’s story gave me a new respect for the female. Before our talk, I’d always thought of her as conceited. I viewed her unwillingness to help the agency as a superiority problem. Even her disconnectedness came across as arrogance. I was wrong.

  “Edwina, I’m sorry. We’ve never seen eye to eye. Now, I understand you better.”

  She didn’t smile.

  “Ya had no way of knowing.”

  “I should have asked.”

  She poured more crimson. “Do ya think I would’ve told ya? We’ve never had a reason to work together till now.”

  True. “Maybe we can bury the hatchet between us?”

  Edwina nodded. “I guess ya not the spoiled brat I thought ya were.”

  Ouch.

  “So how do we catch St. John?”

  “He has a thing for pretty faces. If ya not afraid, we should use ya as bait.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Tabitha has shut him out. St. John doesn’t like rejection. When I figured out how to block him, he moved on.” Edwina tapped the table with her red nails. “In Europe, he had a tendency to look for victims in social spots—nightclubs and such. He found Tabitha at a strip joint. He’ll either go to another one, or he’ll hit the clubs. Putting ya in front of the vampire prevents him from going after some other innocent.”

  Frankly, I didn’t want to tangle with the vamp, but I wanted to stop him from tur
ning others. “Let’s say he goes to a club. How do we do this?”

  Edwina eyed me for a long second and then took another sip of blood. “Ya have to appeal to his lust. If St. John thinks you’re interested in him, he’ll flock to ya like a moth to a flame.” She tilted her head to the side. “Can ya do that?”

  Before I could reply, Ace rushed out of the kitchen. “Hell no! I won’t let ya put ya self in danger.”

  “Baby, I’ll be fine.”

  “Dawlin’, we’ll discuss this.”

  The hybrid finally smiled. “Nice to see ya too, Ace.”

  He scowled. “I can’t say the same, Edwina. Not when ya want to put my wife at risk.”

  Her eyes bounced between us. “So ya finally did it. Good for ya. How Deianira and Julien take it?”

  “Not well,” I said.

  “Give them time. When they realize they can’t break ya up, they’ll come around. Unless ya suffer from immortality, life ain’t guaranteed. Sadly, Julien can hold out for way too long. I’ve seen him do it.”

  Ace pursed his lips. “Do Julien and St. John know each other?”

  “Possibly. I’m not sure who sired St. John. Why?”

  “I’m wondering if Julien might be able to help rid us of St. John. He wouldn’t be working with the BlackGuard…”

  “Which would mean Kragen couldn’t hold the agents responsible,” I offered.

  “It also keeps ya safe, dawlin’.”

  Edwina lowered her glass. “I’ll speak to Julien. If ya don’t mind, I’ll mention the issue with Elsbeth. She might have some insight on how to deal with St. John.”

  “Why?” Ace and I said in unison.

  “If it were left up to me, I’d incapacitate the fiend, behead him, and then set his ass on fire. But if I do what I want, I’ll never see my loved ones again.” She pushed to her feet. “I need to go home and make sure my family has had dinner.”

  It seemed weird to think of Edwina with a husband and a child.

  “How is motherhood?” I asked.

  “I should have had my head examined when Hank suggested bringing a cub home. The child runs me ragged.” Then she smiled. “But I love him to death.”

  14

  Blood-filled Desires

  Tabitha

  * * *

  We traveled back to Clint’s apartment in silence. Every time I tried to read his thoughts, I hit an impenetrable wall. Somebody was going to have to teach me to put up one of those barriers. I’d learned how to distract myself from hearing Alexander’s voice, but I couldn’t hide my thoughts.

  By the time we reached Clint’s building, I was ready to scream. He ignored me and let us into the unit.

  “Talk to me!” I yelled to his back. Disregarding me would not make me go away.

  He whirled around, and suddenly I wished he hadn’t. Clint’s neck corded, and his eyes bulged. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

  Correction.

  Neglect was a good thing. Whatever he was going through was not something I wanted a part of. I took a step backward. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

  His lips no longer looked kissable. They curled back in an angry snarl, revealing a pair of razor-sharp canines. There was a cruelty in his eyes, reminding me of his true nature. Our true nature. We were monsters. Impure and complicated. Clint’s grayish eyes darkened and a trace of red—like a tendril of blood—moved across the surface.

  The happy-go-lucky man I knew was quickly replaced by a maniac. In a guttural voice, he shouted, “Leave!”

  Nobody had to tell my ass twice. My feet carried me across the floor. I yanked open the door and stormed out of there. The scenery whooshed by as I ran. I didn’t stop moving until I was blocks away. Then I realized my predicament. I was alone with no place to go.

  “There you are, beloved. Come to me.”

  No fucking way! I wasn’t that damned lonely.

  I’d take my chances back at my place—if I made it back home. The neighborhood, filled with shoddy homes—some occupied and others turned into businesses—wasn’t an upstanding area. Outside of a few cars parked on the street, no one was around.

  The story of my life. When I truly needed someone, I was on my own. After I lost my parents, I quickly learned to depend on myself. Aunts and uncles and even my grandparents didn’t have time for a teenage girl dealing with grief and depression. As soon as I could, I found myself a job. When I saved up enough, I moved out of my aunt’s house. My first place, a studio apartment on Saint Ann Street, was hardly fancy. Looking around, I noticed I wasn’t too far from my old stomping grounds. Just on the other side of the interstate. It was clean and quiet. Something I desperately needed in that moment.

  By the time I reached the Tremé Coffeehouse, I realized I wasn’t so alone. I saw Clint’s reflection in the multi-paned window. Problem was, I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Obviously, fate wasn’t on my side that night. That bitch wanted me to keep dealing with the crappy hand I’d been dealt.

  Over my shoulder, I said, “Go home, Clint.”

  “Can I explain?”

  “No. You had your chance, but you told me to leave. Remember?”

  “I’m sorry.” He touched my arm as he stopped beside me. “Would you at least hear me out?”

  “Ten seconds.”

  “It’s going to take longer than that,” he insisted. “I need you.”

  “I’m not in the habit of helping jackasses.”

  “I deserved that.” Clint glanced around as if looking for someone.

  We were the only ones on the sidewalk. The coffeehouse had closed for the day like most of the businesses on the street. “You had better start talking, or I’m—”

  “Okay, okay.” He dragged a hand across his face. “It’s the curse of being a dhampir. My body is constantly at war with itself. It’s why I have the bottled blood. I have to drink so much of it each day to satisfy the craving.”

  “You’d rather drink it straight from the source?” I searched his face for the answer. He didn’t hesitate to answer.

  “Yeah. Hell, if I were a full-fledged vampire, maybe then my father would respect me.”

  “Here’s a news flash for you. Kragen is a dick. You could be a vampire with a fucking harem, and he wouldn’t care. I don’t think that man cares about anyone but himself.”

  “Male.”

  “Huh?”

  “You called him a man. It’s a term implying humanity. There’s nothing human left in him—or you for that matter.”

  I felt my forehead furrow. “So you call vampires male and female?”

  “Not just vampires. All supernaturals.” Clint rested his hands on my shoulders. “Forgive me? I’m in misery, and only you can help me through it.”

  It was against my better judgment, but I hadn’t made a good decision since Alexander turned me. One more bad choice couldn’t hurt. Right?

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “For tonight?” Clint’s voice mellowed, and a glimmer of mischief sparkled in his eyes. “Just stay with me.”

  “You’re telling me you need a babysitter?”

  He grimaced. “Not hardly. Call yourself an escort for the evening. Just keep me out of trouble.”

  Until he showed his dark side, I had contemplated getting into trouble with him.

  “And we do what? Watch TV? Eat popcorn?” The idea made me laugh. “We’re hardly two normal people. We can’t just hang out.”

  “Sure we can.” His lips lifted into a lopsided grin. “We can do anything you’d like.”

  Suddenly, I wanted to see what the handsome dhampir was made of. “I want to go dancing.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I don’t think I’ve been dancing in years. Usually, I just sit at the bar.”

  “Well, not tonight. We’ll go to a club or two. Dance our asses off and soak up the atmosphere.” Then I realized I was still in leather pants and hadn’t bathed yet. “I need a change of clothes, though, and a shower. Not necessarily in that order.”<
br />
  “Actually, you’re pretty perfect the way you are.”

  Yeah, right.

  “Leather in a crowded club doesn’t work for me. Besides, I really want to get cleaned up.” I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “We could take a shower together. Maybe have our own party. Get a little sweaty. Rinse and repeat. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you leave before daylight.”

  Clint shuffled his feet and tried to hide his face from me. Vampires might not do it, but dhampirs blushed an adorable shade of red.

  * * *

  When we entered my apartment, I thought I’d see how far I could push Clint. The entire walk over, I sensed his frustration. Well, I actually heard it. His dick was as stiff as a board. He hadn’t stopped drooling over my ass since we met, and I wanted to relieve his discomfort. I pulled out my phone and found my favorite Cardi B tune. As the sounds of Money filled the space, I started rapping along with her.

  Clint smiled. “Not bad.”

  I gave him my best impression of the female rapper—full of attitude—and swiveled my hips. “Join me.”

  Golden Boy did his best, and it was hilarious. He could move his feet, but he couldn’t work with the beat. Were his hips holding him back or the tremendous bulge outlined in his pants? There was one way to find out. I turned around and pressed my ass against his crotch.

  Whoa!

  Clint was packing much more than I could see.

  How the hell did he walk with a dick that large?

  He was so hard my pussy throbbed in anticipation. Thankfully, a Halsey tune played next, and we moved into an easy sway. I started to move away, but Clint grabbed my hips and pulled me close.

  “This is more my speed,” he said near my ear.

  I laughed. “Hang with me, Golden Boy. You’ll be dancing to all sorts of music.”

  “What’s with the nickname?”

  “It’s your hair and skin.” I faced him and placed my arms around his neck. “You look like sunshine to me.”