Broken Elites (The Vampire Legacy Book 3)

by Rita Stradling

  “I don’t smoke.” I pulled out my keys, and blinked back the tears that were forming in my eyes. A tight ball of tension gripped my chest, and I wasn’t sure if I was holding back crying or screaming.

  “Hey, chick that used to be Justin Roberts’ girlfriend, please tell me this nana of yours has a cigarette up there.”

  “She doesn’t,” I snapped.

  Parker rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Corey… don’t let me down.”

  Maybe Parker was really drunk, or maybe she didn’t see how my life came crashing down directly after I stood up for her, but this chick seemed practically giddy. It made me want to tell her that she could just go fuck off somewhere. I was seconds away from doing just that, but she was still covered in vomit and piss and mostly naked, and no matter who she was, I wasn’t about to abandon a girl in that state.

  “Like I would give you a cigarette,” Corey said. “You tell Mikey that I helped you tonight, yeah? I wasn’t on Justin’s side here.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” She tapped Corey’s forehead. “I’m not telling Mikey shit about any shit from tonight.”

  “Thanks,” Corey began to turn away when he turned back and looked at me. He ruffled a hand through his short red hair. “You’re a good girl, January. You’re better off without Justin. Yeah, his family hooked you up, but you’re in with the Elites now. You don’t need to stick with the guy if he’s treating you like that.”

  I bristled at Corey’s words, and it wasn’t just the condescending way he called me a “good girl” which sounded like something only fit to call a pet. I almost—almost commented that Corey of all people shouldn’t be throwing around ethical judgments when I remembered that Spineless Corey was on the informant list. If Justin and Mitch made that scene on purpose, I had to keep up the pretense. That was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with. It was a manufactured fight, they had just neglected to fill me in before everything went down. It didn’t excuse what Justin had said—not by a long shot, but it was the only thing that made sense.

  “I don’t even know what happened back there, but that’s not how Justin has been treating me up to this point.” It was the truest thing I could think of to say.

  “Well, maybe not you, but no one here is surprised.” Corey grimaced. “With Justin, you’re either in or you’re out—and the people who are out, are treated like that.”

  I wanted to defend Justin’s actions—at least his actions from before tonight. He had kept up a façade for years in order to protect good people from getting entangled in his acts of treason against the Hawthorn Group. But, had it all been a show? Really? Or was that just what I wanted to believe so I could love Justin without reservation?

  Jiggling my keys, I turned back to my grandmother’s house and shot over my shoulder, “Thanks for the help, guys.”

  “No problem.” Corey pointed back. “Parker, I’ll see you at practice, bright and early Monday morning. I’m guessing you’ll be a level one officer and I’ll at least be a three. You’ll be running laps for me all day long. Better rest up.”

  “Burn and die, asshole. We all know I’m going to be a level five and you’ll probably be a four—maybe, if your mom sucks someone off for it,” she said as she flipped him the bird and staggered a step, almost colliding into me again.

  “Always a pleasure Parker,” Corey called back.

  Parker lifted her brows at me. The girl suddenly seemed a whole lot less drunk. She still didn’t quite seem steady on her feet, but a moment ago, I feared her keeling over, and now I was getting a sense of sharpness from her keen blue gaze. “You hooking me up with a shower and clothes, or what?”

  “Well, we’ve come this far. Just, don’t act like an asshole to my nana or I will kick you out.”

  “Be nice to your nana. Yeah, I already got that memo.”

  Scratches greeted me, and the moment I opened the door, my hundred-pound shepherd came bounding out, her whole body wagging.

  “Hey Bailey,” I said as I scratched my shepherd behind the ears.

  I helped Parker stumble up the narrow staircase leading to my grandmother’s over-garage apartment, and we made our way into the dark house.

  “January, is that you?” Nana called from her bedroom, sounding half-awake.

  “Yeah, Nana. I have a schoolmate here who needs to use our shower before she calls her family.”

  “Is she going to need a ride home?” Nana called, and I could hear her sheets shifting. I glanced into her dark room to see her thermal temperature glow red and yellow as she moved out from under her blue comforter, but I looked away, feeling intrusive.

  “Do you need a ride home?” I asked Parker.

  “Nah, ma'am, I have brothers with cars,” Parker said as she called into the room. She patted the doorframe. “Thank you, though.”

  “Go back to bed, Nana. I love you. This way, Parker.” I threw a thumb toward my room. There wasn’t much light in the apartment, but Parker didn’t seem to have any trouble as she navigated through the tight space.

  As soon as we were in my room, I closed the door and flicked on the switch. Light flooded the space, and we both blinked around in the bright illumination.

  She was prettier than I had first believed. Her features were bold and striking. Like Mia, she had the body of a swimmer with broad, muscular shoulders and leanly muscled arms and legs. She was also a half- foot taller than me.

  I pulled open my drawer and started riffling around, trying to find something that would fit the girl.

  “Don’t bother. There’s no way that I’ll wear any of that. I didn’t realize you were so poor,” she said. “Why did no one tell me that?”

  “Why would they? I thought it was common knowledge that I’m attending Blackburn on a scholarship,” I said, beyond capable of feeling insulted right now.

  “No, I meant you’re destitute—not like the Blackburn Academy equivalent of poor.” She gestured around at the apartment that was a thousand times more lavish than the condemned house I grew up in. “No wonder you’re friends with the Baldwin Brothers. You guys are all hobos, living off the generosity of the Roberts and Holters.”

  “Actually, Zack and Lucas live in an amazing home that I would have been so fucking proud to grow up in. Their family is happy and loving and kind, and their house is fucking awesome. Look, I’m done with this conversation. I was just trying to give you some clothing because your tits were showing at the party. Do what you want.”

  “Rarr…” She scratched a hand through the air. “I honestly wasn’t trying to offend you. Don’t bite my head off,” She gave an exaggerated snap of her teeth. “If you know what I mean.”

  My heart climbed up in my throat. This drunk, awful human being knew what I was. She knew I was a dhampir. And I had just been thinking that this night couldn’t get any worse.

  “Parker, I don’t know you, and you’re freaking me out. Either accept my kindness, or just leave, and I won’t raise any objections when Justin tries to call the cops again. Clearly, I was on the misguided side of that argument when I stopped that.”

  “Except you weren’t—where you’re heading, January Moore, you need allies, and my five older brothers are the heads of security at Alderwood. Actually, let’s call them what they really are, prison guards. You don’t have to like me to need me.” Halfway to the door, the girl pivoted and pulled out an envelope. “This message was for Justin Roberts, but I’m not planning on getting any closer to him.”

  “What is it?” When I took the paper, static sparked at my fingers, and I almost dropped the envelope.

  “A letter,” she said, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling like ‘duh.’ “I might have got a little carried away with the liquid courage on my way to deliver it. Don’t try to open that envelope. It’s for Justin’s eyes only. Trust me, if there was a way around the spell, my brothers would have found a way in.”

  The static crackled again, and I threw the letter on the bed. “This is from someone in Alderwood or somet
hing?”

  “No.” Parker laughed and pushed her blonde, vomit-encrusted hair away from her face. “That is from your daddy—not that I got to meet him face-to-face. It came down the chain.”

  “What the hell?” I looked around.

  Parker raised a hand. “Don’t get paranoid.” Her hand went to her throat before she lifted a necklace pendant between two fingers. It was shaped like a silver dragon wrapped around a blue stone. “This right here jams surveillance signals.”

  “I’ll take three,” I said. “Name your price.”

  “That’s a good plan… to get your name sent straight to the top of HG’s kill list. The HG lets me have this one only because—it blocks everything—technology and magic. It comes in handy when I do their dirty work.”

  “So, you work for both sides?” I asked.

  “Of course not.” She rolled her eyes again. “The Clearys only work for the Hawthorn Group, of course.” Her tone clearly said the opposite.

  “Who are you really and why did Justin look like he was ready to kill you back there?”

  Parker shrugged her muscular shoulders and I thought that maybe the look she gave me had the slightest trace of remorse, but I could have been imagining it. “I reported on him for about a year to his cousin Sebastian—actually, I reported on his actions to more than just the head of the Hawthorn Group. I was also the one who bugged his phone and gave the recording to Sebastian Holter. That would be the whole recording, not the edited version that was passed around the HG later. As I was the only other medical intern there, I’m guessing that Justin figured out who ratted him out.” She lifted her hands and shrugged a shoulder. “I knew that he didn’t turn traitor, though, and I passed that along to interested parties.”

  “Interested parties that did shit to clear his name,” I said. “You didn’t tell the Hawthorn Group—who actually could have helped him.”

  “Oh sweetie…” She shook her head, “It’s all so much more fucked up than you think, and I have absolutely no motivation to tell you anything else. Anyway…” Parker nodded to the bed, “Deliver that for me. And no, I wouldn’t intrude on your hospitality. My hair only does well with specific products.”

  “Like vomit and piss?” I asked.

  The grin she shot my way was halfway between creepy and sweet, like the grin of the Cheshire cat. She reached up under Mitch’s shirt and fiddled with her bathing suit before peeling the t-shirt off and tossing it at my feet. “I’ve got to go, and you’ve got to go deliver that letter.”

  “How do I know that you’re not going to go running straight back to the Hawthorn Group about this?” I ignored the static and held up the envelope.

  “Um…” She tapped her chin, “For the same reason Mr. Yates is planning to send you to Alderwood instead of having someone kill you.” Parker lifted a sandy brow.

  “And why is that?” My hands were shaking, so I squeezed them into fists.

  She leaned closer, filling my senses with her sour reek. “Because Mr. Yates and I know that Dante Mortus will pick off our family members one by one if we damage you. The only thing that matters in our world is power, and as long as your father is alive and running the Brightside coven, you, my dear, will remain alive.”

  “Wait. Do you know for a fact that Dante is alive? You said that you didn’t see him directly--”

  “Oh, Dante Mortus is alive. The Brightside Nightstalker Coven begged him to be their leader again— I heard it from several of my sources, and this intel was confirmed when the HG learned that the kill order on you, your mother, and grandmother had not only been lifted, but the nightstalker would declare war on anyone who threatens you or your family.”

  “What?” The room started to spin around me, so I sat down on the edge of the bed. “So, we’re free? We’re free now?”

  “Free?” Parker chuckled. “You have to be kidding. Not even close. First of all, the HG owns you legally. Second, that’s just within Brightside, if you step foot into another master’s territory, you will be tortured to death. And last, there’s a bigger threat—and that’s why the vamps wanted Dante back in the first place. Corpses are showing up every morning in Brightside—human corpses, sabbatianoí, nightstalkers, werewolf... The vamps are preparing for war, and for once, not against us. Something has been killing both sides, indiscriminately. The HG is trying to keep it quiet, but that’s not going to last long. These deaths are horrific, and that’s from my brother who’s favorite thing to do is get wasted, find werewolves at bars, pick a fight, and beat them until their bodies force a change.”

  “Sounds like your brother is a lovely man…” I muttered, too stunned by all that she told me to really muster up the level of revulsion her comment deserved.

  “Chuck is a psychopath—actually, that’s probably offensive to psychopaths, but he’s my brother, and he’ll be here any minute to pick me up.” With that, she traipsed out of my room.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I followed Parker out of my Nana’s apartment, more wanting to make sure she left than anything else. Bailey followed us to the bottom of the stairs, and the fact she wasn’t barking led me to believe that vampires weren’t outside my door. If Parker was to be believed, though, that wasn’t really the looming threat anymore. I wanted to drill the girl more, but I got the feeling that our conversation was over.

  As I reached for the doorknob, Parker set a hand on the door. “You did me a favor back there at the party, and you’ve promised to fulfill my mission for me. I owe you a favor—a small favor. That’s how this works. Favor exchange and information exchanges only, we’ll never even pretend to be anything resembling friends.”

  She didn’t need to tell me that.

  “When you need a favor, go to the webpage “Cleary Family’s Summer Yachting Adventures” and press contact at the bottom of the page. Put in the call name ‘Hobo Chick’ and I’ll find you.”

  “I can’t pick a different call sign?” I asked.

  “Nah.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’ll actually remember this one.”

  “Fine.” I turned the doorknob, only to have a drunk, shirtless Mitch tumble in through my doorway.

  “Hey Mitch,” Parker said as she stepped over him. “Listening at doorways? What would you have done if I was up there strangling your girlfriend?”

  Mitch didn’t even get up from where he’d tumbled, instead, he propped up on an elbow and took a swig of his bottle, which judging from the label, was straight vodka. “Oh, Parker. Why don’t you go snitch on one of your friends—oh wait, you don’t have any of those.”

  “Too true, but I’m not sure you should be commenting on that because from where I’m standing you don’t have any friends or family to speak of. And… speaking of friends and betrayals… I don’t think it was my—let’s call it—information leak that set Justin Roberts off like that tonight. I was never his friend, and I stabbed him in the back, not the heart.”

  Mitch flinched ever so slightly, before he relaxed and lazily rolled his bottle around in his hand. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  “I guess not.” Parker shrugged, waved, and headed up the hill.

  Mitch peered over his shoulder, looking me up and down. “Well, you’re alive. Next time you want to wait for me before you take someone like Parker up into a locked house with you?”

  With a sigh, I turned a key in my grandma’s lock and plopped down beside him. “I just thought she was someone in genuine trouble. She was in trouble—that part was true, but she managed to spit on my kindness and snub the clothing and the shower I offered her. Then she told me that my father is alive.”

  “No shit…?” Mitch’s brows rose, and he set his bottle on the ground and worked it into the gravel, making a low, grating sound. “He fought through all of those master nightstalkers and made his way out of there… that’s… good, right?”

  “Parker says it is.” I nodded. “The local coven has begged him to return as their leader, and in exchange, the kill order on m
y family and me was lifted. If anyone attacks us now, they risk war with the vampires.”

  Mitch glanced around us. “Maybe we should talk about this…”

  “They know.” I twirled a finger in the air. “The HG knows all about it. They just didn’t think that I needed to know, I guess.” My voice was laced with the churning bitterness I felt.

  Mitch raised the alcohol bottle to his lips but paused before drinking. His gaze was fixed away from me as he spoke. “Maybe you can get out a little—like your mom suggested. Not shit that you hate like this, but a concert or something. I bet Justin would take you after this all blows over.”

  “Mitch, Justin and I broke up back there—even if that scene wasn’t real, I don’t think this is going to blow over. The things he said…” Sudden emotion clotted in my throat, and I rubbed my neck, trying to push the feeling away. “Was it fake?”

  Mitch stilled, and his gaze slid over to me as his brow grew progressively more furrowed. “What did he say?”

  “Was the fight real?” I repeated.

  “His fight with me was real. But there’s no way that he meant it when he broke up with you.”

  “He sure sounded like he meant it.” A tear dropped on my cheek, and my lip trembled. “He looked like he meant it. And even if it was some act… I don’t want to be with someone who treats me like that.”

  Mitch worked his jaw back and forth slowly, and I could see him on the edge of some thought, wondering whether or not he should say it aloud. “Justin is jealous because he thinks that there’s something between us besides friendship,” he said it all in a rush, like he was getting it off his chest. “He’s out of his fucking mind—but I think that was what that could have been about back there.”

  “So? That’s not an excuse. The jealousy he feels is his problem. He should deal with it on his own and not put it on us. We’ve only ever been friends, and I’m still not sure you even consider me your friend.” My words came out more clipped and defensive than I intended them, and I consciously slowed down as I continued. “So, that’s what this was about? His misplaced jealousy turned him into an abusive jerk?” More tears dropped onto my face. “Why am I even crying? What an asshole. It’s a tale as old as fucking time. I sleep with him for the first time ever—last night of all nights—and today, he turns into a totally different person and breaks up with me.”