Sheridan frowned. “Wait. You were, what, seventy back then?”
“Yep.”
“But, but—” She waved her hand at him. “You still look seventy, actually a little younger.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome but that wasn’t my point. That was almost forty years ago.”
Bert grimaced. “You see why I want to talk to him, huh? Consorts are still human but our aging slows considerably and there are ways to almost completely stop it.”
“By becoming a vampire,” she whispered.
“No, actually.”
“Then how?”
“I’m not sure you’re ready to hear that.”
“Bert,” she said through gritted teeth, “quit pussyfooting around.”
“All right, all right.” He winked at her. “I can see why you’re so good at your job. The aging process for a Consort is slowed by accepting the blood of your vampire.”
She jerked backward. “Ew, gross!”
“It’s not as bad as it seems.”
“I’m sure it’s worse.”
“It doesn’t take long to get used to the taste and it doesn’t take much. Accepting their blood also increases the abilities you gained from them.”
Her brow furrowed. “Okay, he sort of mentioned that but not a whole lot.”
“Jeez, that idiot.”
She straightened up. “Hey, we were a bit pressed for time.”
“Don’t make excuses for him, Sheridan. Not explaining the whole process is bogus. During the Joining, there is a small exchange of powers between human and vampire. You gain a tiny bit of his and he gets his life sustained by you.”
She patted her arms, chest, and legs. “He said that but I don’t feel any different. Maybe it didn’t take.”
Bert cocked a brow. “Don’t you remember how quickly we arrived at BB’s?”
Her mouth went dry as realization dawned. “McCallister said speed was one of his special talents. Are you saying I’m like Speedy Gonzales now?”
“Yep.”
“Huh.” She finished off her espresso. “Now, that’s kind of cool.” She smiled widely. “Yeah, I dig that. Although, I was kind of hoping for his nifty mind reading ability. Boy, wouldn’t that kick ass during an interview?”
“There’s more, though. He might be able to pinpoint you psychically, using your heartbeat as his guide. He hears it in his head all the time and he can find you by tracking it.”
“Hm.” She wasn’t sure she liked that. “How do I turn it off?”
“You don’t, Sheridan. Ever. You are now Joined to him until you die.”
All the air left her body and she shook like a leaf in a hurricane. “That can’t be right. What happens if someone decided they made a mistake and don’t want to be someone’s Consort anymore?”
He blinked. “It’s never happened.”
“Never?” She scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. Do you know how high the divorce rate is? This Joining stuff can’t be that different. Are there any books in the vampire world? They have their own cop shop, I’m assuming they have other entities, too. A society like that can’t be lawless or uneducated.”
Bert nodded. “Good Lord, yes. There are more rules for the vampires than any other country on earth. It’s actually kind of ridiculous. They are governed by a body called The Brigade which is made up of one Precept from each of the nine vampire factions.”
Sheridan shook her head. “Sounds complicated.”
“It is. The Brigade has its own army called the Guardians.”
She remembered the big black man standing outside Vesper’s Bite and shivered. “I met one of them.”
Bert’s eyes narrowed. “Out at the Bite?”
“Yes.”
He smiled. “That Guardian has been there since the beginning. He’s very protective. Anyway, they have all sorts of professions. They actually are with us and around us all the time. Most of the myths out of Hollywood are things made up by screenwriters. I never could figure out why they decided sunlight could hurt a vampire.”
“Maybe it was more light and dark representing good and evil, not anything scientific.”
“I guess. It’s dumb. They get some of it right but McCallister will have to tell you what. I can’t do that.” Bert rubbed at his neck. “Why did you say you were running out of time?”
She cleared her throat and squirmed until his steady stare. “I got into a little trouble with Paxton Barrett when I was at Vesper’s Bite.”
He stilled. “Barrett. What happened?”
“He called me. I met him. He wanted McCallister and told me to bring him. I declined at first, then he went bat-shit crazy and killed Ernest the bartender. I agreed after that. He was very strange, too. Kept talking about accepting his favors or something like that.”
“Did you have anything to eat or drink in his presence?”
She waved her hand. “I’ve already been through all that with McCallister and his gang.” She frowned. “What do they call a group of vampires, anyway? Something cool, I bet. Like a bunch of crows is a murder. A bunch of vampires is—?”
“Focus here, Sheridan.”
Obviously the old man wasn’t in the mood for levity. “I did but it didn’t have any effect.” She coughed and looked down at the table. “Apparently because McCallister and I had sort of started this whole Joining thing, it didn’t take effect.” She sure as hell wasn’t about to tell him that McCallister “claimed” her first. “After that whole mess, we went back to Brooks’ mansion. Have you seen that place?”
“No. The Joining, Sheridan.”
“We went back there, talked about what happened, then we headed to McCallister’s place and uh, you know, finished. End of story.” She licked her lips. She wasn’t really as nonchalant about the whole thing as she was trying to appear. “He said I had his protection and that Barrett couldn’t turn me. Is that true?”
Bert nodded and she sighed with relief.
“But you still have to be careful. He can hurt you, especially if he doesn’t get what he wants. Barrett has always been on the fringes of the vampire society. I’ve heard rumors of his experiments and theories.”
“Like what?”
Bert licked his lips, looked around, and lowered his voice. “He’s got some yahoo idea that he can become the most powerful vampire ever. Finally harness every power they have. He’s also been developing an army of hybrid creatures and experimenting on humans.”
She frowned. “I ran into one of those beasts leaving Brooks’ mansion last night. Sort of a wolf but on two legs and seriously ugly though I didn’t get much of a glimpse.”
Bert’s eyes widened. “Wow,” he said as he sat back hard. “I didn’t really think those rumors were true. I just always pegged him as one of those not-right-in-the-head kind of guys.” Bert lunged forward and grabbed her hands in his. The strength of his grip pulsed painfully in her veins. “Be careful, Sheridan. Be very, very careful.”
She slipped her hands free and gently covered his age-spotted fingers. “I will, I promise. Besides, McCallister doesn’t want me going off doing anything crazy.”
“Boy, does he have a lot to learn about you.” Bert slipped free of her grasp and checked his watch. “I’m going to have to get back. Here’s the upshot, Sheridan. You are now Joined to McCallister, to the vampire society, and to all other Consorts. There are rules and laws you have to follow and not knowing them is no excuse. The Brigade is pretty harsh about lawbreakers.”
“You’re scaring me here, Bert.”
“Good. You should be scared. McCallister needs to sit down and go over everything with you. I mean everything, too. All the rules, the laws, the legends, the rumors, everything.”
One word grabbed her attention. “They have legends?”
His smile was soft as he rose. “They are the remnants of a great company of knights, built in the era of chivalry, pageantry, and over-the-top codes of honor. They are only slightly different now than th
ey were in the fifteenth century. Of course they have legends.”
She really wished she had her pad and pen with her. They walked out the door and onto the street. She touched his arm. “Let’s take this the old-fashioned way, okay?”
He patted her hand. “Sure. And before you ask, when you’re moving like that, normal humans don’t see you. You’re a blur in the corner of their eye, even if you’re walking right in front of them. It’s one of those abilities vampires adapted to cloak themselves.”
“Good to know.” She smiled at a woman coming toward them. The older woman—she was probably in her sixties and dressed as stylishly as any model—smiled then slid an appraising, flirtatious glance at Bert.
Hello, handsome. Sheridan’s eyes went wide and she gasped, looking over her shoulder as the lady passed. Did I really just hear her say that?
“What’s wrong?” Bert turned to look, too.
“Nothing.” She wasn’t ready to talk about that. If she did have the ability to hear voices, it just might have been worth having to beg McCallister to let her come. Although, that was pretty fucking hot. “I still have a ton of questions, you know.”
“Not shocked,” Bert said. “We can discuss it over the next few years. Even you can’t learn everything in one day.”
She laughed. “I can try.” They stopped at a red light.
Bert tapped his foot as they waited for the cross signal to turn white. “I can probably answer one or two now.”
“Do you love her?” Sheridan blinked at the question. That wasn’t the one she’d intended to ask.
“Allison?”
“Yeah.”
“Love? That’s a very strong emotion. We are bonded. I know everything about her. She’s intensely sexual, even after all these years. I would be distraught if I lost her. Is that love?”
“Sounds like it to me.”
“Then I guess so.”
Sheridan didn’t like his uncertainty but she only had a couple more blocks. This time she asked the right question. “What’s their greatest legend?”
He pursed his lips. “Oh, that’s a tough one.”
“Why?”
Bert grinned. “Depends on what kind of legend you want. There’s the one that talks about The Corrupt Apostle and how he’s still alive and the head of the Brigade. There’s the one about the frozen vampire thawed back to life and about how Vampires are evolving into the perfect human being.”
She laughed. “That’s an oxymoron, don’t you think?”
“Yep. There’s the one about soul mates, probably thought up by a hoard of love-stricken vampire poets.”
Sine Qua Non. Sheridan fought to keep her expression placid. She didn’t really feel like explaining to Bert why she knew all about that particular legend. And how she was apparently McCallister’s Life Legend. “Good Lord, are there emo vampires?” she said instead.
“I’d say so,” Bert said. “It seems when a human is turned, they sometimes stay in the mindset they had at the time. I’ve met vampires from the Victorian period who are still painfully uptight. Stoners from the seventies who can’t go one day without a toke. Suffragettes from the twenties who continue to rally for all kinds of rights.”
He opened the door to the Metro building. Sheridan could hardly take it all in. “Please tell me they have a library. Someplace I can go to read about all this stuff.”
Bert grinned. “Absolutely. Ask McCallister. He’ll take you.”
She hugged the old man tight. “Thanks, Bert.”
His arms wrapped around her then let go quickly. “Don’t worry, kid. I got your back. I have a feeling you’re going to need all the help you can get.”
Sheridan laughed as she headed for the elevator. “Oh, come on, what else could happen? I’m protected remember?”
Chapter Eleven
McCallister cruised down Dorchester Street for the tenth time. He’d been searching for that souped-up Caddy for the last three hours and he was growing more irritated with each pass, so he was grateful for the reprieve when his cell phone rang.
He didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“McCallister? It’s Calliope Jones. I must speak with you.”
Shock blistered through him. “Calliope?”
“Yes.” Impatience slid down the phone. “It’s urgent, please. Can you meet me at Brooks’ house right away? Leopold, Sullivan, and Valdór are on their way as we speak.”
The fine hairs at the back of his neck stirred like tufts of grass being buffeted by wind. He turned his head and spotted the Cadillac easing from the cover of a darkened alley.
Shit.
“I can be there in an hour,” he said.
“No. Now, McCallister. This is urgent.”
He frowned, watching the purple car slide down the street. It stopped near a flickering street lamp in front of the abandoned hospital. The doors opened and two men unfurled themselves from the interior. Each wore black clothes and hats pulled low, effectively covering their faces.
“Damn it.” He pulled to a stop across the street and watched them stride toward the rusted chain link fence.
“Did you hear me?” Calliope demanded.
“What’s so hot it can’t wait?”
The men didn’t even pause as they hit the fence but seemed to melt right through and appeared whole on the other side.
McCallister stiffened so quickly, his head bumped the roof of his car.
“Ow,” McCallister muttered, rubbing his scalp with his free hand.
“I know what my father is up to,” Calliope said. No emotion, no inflection, no passion. The flat tone pulled his attention from the two guys in black who’d disappeared inside the hospital.
“What?” he demanded.
“Come to the mansion.”
The phone call dropped and he cursed as he slammed his cell onto the passenger seat. He wanted to follow the guys into the building but he knew he needed back-up. No way was that happening without a shit ton of paperwork and wheedling. The Other Side thought they had it bad with jurisprudence, but they didn’t know half the shit he and his fellow cops had to go through to enter someone’s property without permission. A search warrant just didn’t cut it.
McCallister glared at the building as he put his car into drive and headed for Brooks’ mansion. On the way, he tried Sheridan’s cell but it went to voicemail. Her desk phone also rolled over to the auto-attendant and he cut the call off without leaving a message. As he pulled into the drive of Brooks’ luxury townhouse on Beacon Hill, McCallister dialed the paper’s front desk.
“Boston Metro, all the news you need to know. This is Bobbi, how may I help you?”
McCallister grinned at the professional yet syrupy voice on the other end of the line. Her accent elongated every word into multi-syllabic sounds of lyrical luxury. “Good afternoon, Miss Bobbi. This is Detective McCallister. Is Sheridan Aames available, please? She’s not answering either of her phones.”
He heard the swift inhalation from the other end.
“Oh my, you sound even better than that other guy. He didn’t have that wonderful husky baritone you do.”
McCallister’s smile dropped like a fifty pound dumbbell. “What other guy?”
“Just some guy who keeps calling her. Sheridan said it’s for that story she’s working on. I told her he sounds like an English gentleman or something.”
Barrett.
It took every ounce of control he had not to crush his cell phone. “Does he call often?”
“Just about every hour for the last two days, sugar. I take more messages for that girl, I swear. Her phone’s always full. Want me to ring her desk and see if she’s available?”
“Yes,” he said. “Thank you,” he added belatedly.
“Hold tight, honey.”
Some godawful violin version of La Vida Loca started playing in his ear.
“Are you coming in?” Brooks’ voice blared from the loudspeaker near the gate.
> McCallister jumped and glared upward. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d started like that.
Christ, I’m on edge. He knew it was because of Sheridan, Barrett, and not knowing what the bastard was doing. Or where she was.
“Detective? Sheridan was called out to a meeting with an informant. Steve says she’ll be back in a couple of hours. Want to leave a message?”
He headed for the house. Every footstep echoed in unison to a deep, pounding throb at the base of his skull. “No, thank you,” he said. “Do you know where she is? Maybe I could meet up with her there.”
“No, sorry, I can’t give you that information.” Bobbi’s voice turned coolly professional though the Southern charm remained. “Against company policy. Being a cop, I’m sure you understand.”
“Yeah, I do. Damn it.”
Her chuckle reverberated in his ear. “I can tell you that Steve knows her exact location. Want me to patch you through to him?”
The front door opened and Brooks glared at the phone then him. His square face looked sharper and tenser than he could recall in recent years.
“No thanks, Bobbi. I’ll call him after a while if I haven’t heard from her.”
He hung up, pocketed his phone, and lifted a brow. “What’s going on?”
“Calliope has unearthed some disturbing information. Come on.” The tall, immaculately dressed vampire turned on the heel of his highly polished shoe and strode down the marble hallway. No one looking at Brooks would doubt he was anything except urbane, suave, and successful. Exactly as he wanted.
McCallister caught up with him and they entered Brooks’ large study. A gleaming oval conference table anchored the middle of the room. Valdór, Leopold, and Sullivan were seated around the walnut expanse with Calliope standing at the head. The table was strewn with folders, photos, and various papers.
“Calliope,” McCallister greeted softly. Of them all, she was the most skittish and reclusive. She hated what she was, what her father forced her into becoming to save his own skin.
Bile coated McCallister’s tongue as memories of that long ago night rose to hound him.
Bound By His Blood Page 16
