Blood for Breakfast (Sydney Newbern Book 1)

by Helen Bell

  I went down the sweeping stairs leading to an enormous living room with floor-to-ceiling windows showing panoramic views of Manhattan and beyond. Thomas must have sunscreen roller blinds on the windows or UV protection because in the daytime, this penthouse, which was at least nine thousand square feet, would be flooded with sunlight.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I smelled faint lemon oil in the air. Everything was squeaky clean. I glanced up at the barrel-vaulted ceiling and then at the opulent furniture, the spotless fireplace, and the fine artwork on the walls. I was impressed. From London slums to this wealth? Good for you, Thomas, I thought as I darted toward the private elevator.

  Outside the high-rise building, I hurried to the subway and hopped on a train. When I arrived at Lucas’s building, an old lady was walking out. I held the door for her and stepped inside. The elevator was out of order, so I trudged up to the fifth floor, where I walked down a musty hallway with dull overhead lighting. Passing by doors, I heard a loud TV, a man yelling at his wife, and a baby’s cries. I stopped at Lucas’s apartment and knocked on the door.

  “It’s open!” Natalie’s voice called out, and I let myself in. A frightened girl stood in a small living room. She was about my height and age, with honey-blonde hair in a bun, bronze skin, and mascara smudged under red, puffy eyes.

  With a shaking hand, she was pointing a handgun at me. Oh, great. Just my luck.

  Chapter 13

  I raised my hands up. “Whoa, put it down. It’s me, Sydney. We talked on the phone earlier, remember?”

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore. You might be a demon. Close the door.” I did as she asked and stepped into the living room.

  “Natalie, I am not a demon. I’m a human like you. Here, touch my skin.” Whether demons had different skin texture, I had no idea, but it was a good excuse to get closer to her to disarm her.

  “T-t-that’s close enough. Don’t take another step, or I’ll shoot,” she threatened and drew back, almost stumbling on something.

  I exploited the split second of distraction and grabbed the barrel, redirecting it away from me. Out of the line of fire, I twisted the gun toward her while with my other hand, I chopped into her wrist and disarmed her. Natalie looked at her handgun, which was now in my hand. She cowered backward.

  “Calm down. I’m not here to hurt you,” I told her. “I’m human. I swear. I just wanna talk. That’s it.”

  When she seemed to relax, I stepped to the stained beige couch. Perching on it, I scanned the room. Over a cheap rug, there was a coffee table with three empty beers on it. An old TV was in front of the couch. At my right, there was a small kitchen containing a dining table and a fridge.

  To gain her trust, I laid the gun on the coffee table. “Let’s start from the beginning. What were you doing in that brothel with Lucas? Was he your boyfriend?”

  Still standing near the wall, she shook her head. “We were close friends. Lucas has … had,” she cleared her throat, “an obsession with the supernatural, fae in particular. About a month ago, this damn obsession got him in trouble with some demons, and they were after him. He wouldn’t say why. James, who was his roommate, wanted to help him out, so he confessed to him that he was a real vampire, or a day something or other. I don’t remember the exact term. Anyway, he told Lucas he worked at a vampire whorehouse.

  “James was the one who fixed him up with a job as a bartender over there, saying it’d keep him safe because Wo Hop was their territory. No demons are allowed in. That’s why in the last couple of weeks, Lucas had spent most of his time there. He really thought he’d be safe at Wo Hop.” She stepped to the coffee table to lift a bottle from it, then cussed when she discovered it was empty.

  She went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Wanna beer?”

  “Thanks but I’m good.”

  She returned, gulping from a fresh can of cold beer. Wiping her lips with her sleeve, she sat next to me on the couch and said, “A few hours before Lucas was murdered, he called me, hysterical. He found out the demon bitch had killed James because he refused to give away his hiding place. I’ve never heard him so scared before. He begged me to come over to the brothel.

  “When I arrived there, I saw him at the bar, working. I walked up to him, and he took me to his friend’s room for privacy. He said he was meeting with a vampire and after that, he planned to leave for Texas. He asked if I could lend him some money, and then the door flew open. It was his friend. All worked up, he warned him that there were demons at the restaurant entrance. To get in, they were offering their dick of a boss a large amount of money in a case.”

  “Was the boss’s name Alexander?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure. Maybe. I remember he had a ponytail and wore green leather pants that night.”

  Definitely Alexander. “Go on.”

  “Lucas was shocked that his boss had accepted the demons’ money. He quickly hid me in the closet. There wasn’t enough room for him in there, so he closed the closet door and …” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She sniffed. “Through a small crack, I saw everything. That bitch beat the shit out of him as the other demons tore the room apart, looking for something. Christ, I almost shit my pants. I was so fucking scared. There were so many screams outside the room. Then, the three of you came in. Your friends fought them while you were in that vampire’s arm … and your face … it changed, and your boyfriend or whatever left with you, and that demon bitch killed Lucas.” She choked on her tears.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I felt for her. Watching your close friend die couldn’t be easy.

  She knuckled away her tears and stood. “Look, I really need to get the hell out of here, but before I go, there’s something I think you should have.” She disappeared into the room near the kitchen.

  When she came back, she said, “Before Lucas shoved me into the closet, he handed me his phone and a flash drive. I have no idea what’s on it since he didn’t have time to explain everything, but I know he planned to show it to your vampire friends.

  “After he was killed, I ran to his apartment. Not the smartest decision, I know, but I couldn’t return home and face Lucas’s mother. I just couldn’t. So I stayed here for the past week, trying to figure out how to explain his death to his family. Today I finally came up with something and was ready to get on a bus back home, but you called.” She drew a deep breath. “Anyway, here, it’s yours.” No sooner had she handed me the thumb drive than the front door was kicked open with a bang.

  Two men appeared in the doorway. Demons? I wasn’t worried about my soul being eaten again as I had BFB in my system, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t alert or that Natalie’s soul was safe. I quickly put the thumb drive in the back pocket of my jeans.

  The big man on the left stepped closer to us. “Where is she? Where’s my daughter?”

  My eyebrows drew together. “Who?”

  “That will be all,” his friend, a lanky guy with black sunglasses told him, then glanced at the name tag on the dude’s uniform. “Jeremy, I don’t need your muscle anymore. You may return to your boring life as a store manager.”

  “But my daughter’s cries came from here. They took her,” Jeremy insisted and, as if hearing his phone ringing, he pulled it out of his pants pocket and looked at the screen. “Lisa? Lisa, you okay?” he answered, paused for a few seconds, then said, “Home? With Aunt Ruth?” He sounded relieved. “Okay, good, good. Stay there. I’ll see you when I come back home from work.” He hung up.

  “See? She’s fine,” the skinny man said. “Go back to work now.”

  Jeremy’s gaze went to me as though I’d spoken to him. “You sure? Okay, thank you for not calling the cops on me. Sorry about the door.” He turned and left the apartment.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Natalie asked.

  The man pulled his sunglasses up to the top of his head. His eyes went from white to brown. Of course, an illusionist witch. “It’s so much easier to have someone else break down doors. It hurt
s my shoulder, you know.”

  He crossed the room and stuck out his hand to me, his palm up. “The flash drive in your back pocket, please.”

  I played innocent. “What flash drive? What are you talking about?”

  He expelled an impatient breath. “I know you have it. I saw you with it when I barged in.”

  “Who the hell are you? Why would a witch be after it?”

  “For the dough, darlin’. The name is Ian Robinson. I’m a private investigator,” he said.

  “Were you hired by a royal demon?” I asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I was. Three nights ago.” He stretched his hand out to me once more. “The flash drive, if you please.”

  I reached back into my jeans pocket, but instead of withdrawing what he wanted, I brought my empty hand right up in his face, raising my middle finger. “This is the only thing you’re gonna get, so you better leave.”

  His lips tightened with anger, and his eyes turned white. A slight pressure pushed against my body.

  “Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to enter someone’s soul uninvited?” I said as I easily blocked his attempt to reach my soul.

  His eyes slit while his head cocked to one side, as if trying to figure out how I was immune to his magic. “It can’t be … You’re human.”

  “So I’ve been told—a lot,” I grumbled.

  His gaze snapped to Natalie.

  She started to scream. “Oh my God, cockroaches! Get ’em off of me! Get ’em off of me! They’re crawling under my shirt! They’re all over me!” She flailed around the apartment. I hurried after her as she frantically slapped her arms and legs to get the imaginary insects off her, starting to undress.

  “Natalie, look at me. They’re not real! Don’t hurt yourself.” From firsthand experience, I knew how real illusion magic felt.

  “Oh, God! They’re creeping under my skin!” She scratched her arms until they bled.

  “Stop it! Stop the illusion, or I swear to God I’ll kill you,” I warned the witch.

  “The spell won’t die with me, darlin’. Hand me the flash drive, and I’ll free her. Do it now before she does more damage to herself,” he said.

  Natalie squealed in pain. Shirtless now, she cried as her bloodied nails dug deeper into her arm.

  I cringed. “Okay, okay, I’ll give it to you. Just stop the illusion.” I drew out the thumb drive. “Here, take it.” I hurled it through the broken front door. I wanted to kick his ass but was afraid he’d cast another spell on Natalie, so I rushed to the kitchen instead.

  I rummaged through drawers and cabinets for a clean hand towel but found something better: a basic first-aid kit. When I came back to the living room, the illusionist and the thumb drive were gone. Like he’d promised, he’d undone the spell.

  Natalie was sitting on the couch, seemingly out of it, her expression blank. Her bra, belly, and pants were smeared with blood. I went to sit next to her while she mumbled incoherently. I opened the first-aid kit and pulled out gauze pads, a strip of tape, a small scissors, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

  “This is going to sting a bit,” I said before I cleaned the wounds on her forearm. She hissed as I took care of her injuries. Then I returned to the kitchen for a glass of water.

  She drank it, snapping out of her shock and standing up. “I can’t be here anymore. I need to get away, take a bus back home.”

  I got to my feet too. “Yeah, you do that. And stay away from the supernatural world. Live a normal life.”

  “Oh, I’m done with all this stuff, for good,” she said.

  After she put her sweater back on, said goodbye, and took off, I cursed the illusionist out loud for stealing the thumb drive. I searched Lucas and James’s bedrooms, then the living room, hoping to find a copy or anything related to Lucas’s sister disappearance. There was nothing, though, not even a laptop.

  Exasperated, I was about to take off when a woman stepped through the broken front door. My gaze swept over her clothes, a slim-fit, black leather vest, leather shoulder armor, and tight black pants. The look was completed with lace-up black knee-high boots. She had a fit body, her hair pulled up in a high ponytail. She was a vampire, no doubt, but something about her was off. Her skin was pale gray, her eyes bloodshot, her nose bleeding.

  “Who are you? What are you doing in this apartment?” she asked, glancing at the mess in the living room. Her eyes narrowed at me. Not giving me time to respond, she launched herself at me with visceral fury, then kicked me. I flew across the room and slammed up against a wall. I coughed, and my head spun. I scrambled to get up but failed. My bones hurt. Everywhere. Gideon had been right; I hadn’t fully recovered from the demon attack.

  The vampire was near me in an instant. Before I could utter a single word, she seized me by my shirt and lifted me off the floor, thrusting my body up against the wall. She flipped me over and pressed my head to it while twisting my arm behind my back.

  “What’d you do to him?” she demanded.

  I groaned in pain. “Who ar—” A cough. “Who are yo—” Another cough. My chest hurt like hell, and it was hard to breathe. She caught my hair and pulled my head back with a snap. I cried out.

  I guessed she assumed that inflicting pain would encourage me to be more talkative. She was partly correct; the pain did spur me into action. But I was tired of being attacked by vampires and demons and witches, and I was in no mood to talk. Pissed off, I gathered all my strength and delivered a vicious kick backward, pushing her off me. I spun around. She was on the floor a few feet away from me.

  “Who are you talking about?” I managed to ask before nausea doubled me over.

  On her feet again, she darted forward and punched me in the jaw. Son of a bitch! Staggering back, I felt a wave of weakness wash through me. I did my best to ignore it, then straightened and focused on her. I blocked her next strike and hit her with a right hook to the face and an uppercut to her chest. She snarled like an animal, crazed, unwilling to calm down or listen to me. For her, it was kill first, ask questions later. Well, I wasn’t ready to die yet. So we fought until I pulled my dagger out and drove it through her heart. She sank to her knees and fell forward on her face.

  I pushed to my feet and my vision blurred. God, I needed to rest. I tottered to the couch, put the bloodied dagger on the coffee table, and plopped down—for all of three seconds.

  A shout came from the front door. “Melissa? Oh, no, Melissa!” A human woman ran to the maniac I’d just killed, wearing black pants and a dark blue jacket. Three female vampires followed her into the apartment, all dressed in attire identical to the dead vampire’s.

  Alarmed, I shot to my feet. What the hell was the deal with Lucas’s apartment? Everybody had a sudden urge to pay it a visit tonight? Who were they?

  The human cradled the dead body in her arms and trained her accusing stare on me. “She killed Melissa.”

  “I had no choice. I—”

  The three vamps, whose Change appeared to have occurred in their early twenties, jumped me. I didn’t have strength left to fight them, and in seconds I was lying on the floor on my stomach while one of the vamps cuffed my hands behind my back. Wait, were they vampire cops?

  “Take her to Pam,” the human woman ordered, and they hauled me to my feet.

  “No, you can’t take me, I—goddammit, listen to me. I’m sorry, but she was acting crazy.” Ignoring my protests, they dragged me outside the apartment. Lucas’s neighbors must be used to loud noises because no one opened their door to check out what was going on.

  “Who’s Pam? Where are you taking me?” I asked as they dragged me outside.

  Instead of answering, they shoved me into the back seat of a black Audi waiting at the curb with the engine running. The vampires climbed in too, and I sat wedged between two of them. They duct-taped my mouth and jammed a burlap sack over my head. My pulse careened. The headache and nausea worsened.

  “Where’s Melissa?” asked a feminine voice from the front seat.

>   “With Trudy. Start driving,” the one on my left said, and I felt the car lurch away from the curb. The windows were closed, I could tell by the lack of wind, but I was still cold due to the A/C pumping through the car. No one spoke during the long drive. It felt as if two hours had passed before the ride became bumpy, and it was everything I could do not to throw up into the burlap bag. Finally the bouncing stopped and a few minutes later, the car ground to a halt.

  Its doors clicked open, and I dreaded getting out of the Audi. I had no clue who they were, or what they were going to do to me. Tied up, I was powerless against them. My only hope was the cell phone in my jacket pocket. I had to find a way to reach it and call Gideon.

  One of the vampires pulled me out of the freezing car. Outside, night insects chirruped. Even though a light wind was blowing, I thawed out and started to regain sensation in my feet and hands. Someone frisked me for weapons and took out my phone. I cursed inwardly. Great, there went Plan A. The bag over my head was pulled away, and I jerked my gaze around.

  I stood in the circular driveway of an enormous Gothic, gray-stone castle. In the middle of the driveway sat a fountain featuring a marble statue of a woman in a flowing robe. I glanced back at the stone wall with its immense wrought-iron gate, trees looming beyond it. Great. A Gothic vampire castle in the forest. Nothing bad ever happened in those.

  “Don’t bother plotting your escape,” said the vampire nearest to me. “Our territory is heavily guarded—night and day. Strong magic keeps unwanted visitors out. No one can get in or out without our approval.”

  Of course it was. This night just kept getting better and better.

  The car that brought me here sped away, and the two bloodsuckers from Lucas’s apartment dragged me up to the massive wooden front door of the castle. They pulled it open, the hinges screeching in sharp protest, and forced me inside. The door closed behind me with the same unpleasant noise.