Blood Heat

by Maria Lima

  “Even the vampires are having issues,” Tucker said. “It’s been like this for ages. Hottest summer on record; more than thirty days near to and over a hundred degrees.”

  “The vampires are having problems with the heat?” I’d never considered that, since, technically, vampires weren’t alive—at least, not by human standards. Adam’s skin was normally cool to the touch, and I guess I’d gotten used to the thought that he was comfortable no matter what the ambient temperature.

  “Yeah, it’s bloody hot after dark still. Hunting’s rather uncomfortable for them. Us, too, when shifted, all that fur.”

  “Shit, I hadn’t thought about that,” I said. “What can I do to help?”

  “You’ve been back all of twenty-four hours, Keira,” Rhys butted in. “It’s not like we expect you to know everything that’s going on right away.”

  Tucker nodded. “I’m sure Adam would’ve said something tonight. I imagine you two didn’t do much talking when you got home?”

  I wasn’t about to tell my brothers about my very excellent sex life. I’d arrived at eight last night and—after a brief reunion with my siblings, Liz, and a hug from Niko, who’d just woken—I’d gone straight to Adam’s bed, not even letting him wake fully before I pounced. I hadn’t seen him in nearly three months.

  “Are all the vampire quarters cool enough?” I asked. “Because if not, we can fix this. I’m sure there are plenty of great air-conditioning guys around we can bring in.”

  “Adam and I have been brainstorming,” Ianto answered. “All the homes are fine, the a/c units are working well, but who the hell wants to be cabin-bound twenty-four, seven? It’s bad enough that they all have to stay underground for the long summer days.”

  I thought of eighty-some-odd vampires with cabin fever and shuddered. “Egad. Yeah, not a good thing. I’m sure we’ll all figure something out.”

  How did one cool off vampires anyway? They couldn’t exactly have a field trip to the nearest swimming hole. With the drought, most of the natural swimming areas disappeared as the waters receded, and local area pools were private and closed after dark. The oxymoronically named Rio Seco—“dry river” in Spanish—was dammed in the sixties to form the consequently absurdly named Rio Seco Lake. Originally, the name “Rio Seco” was less insane. Without the human intervention, most of this area had been near-desert plains, bordering on unlivable. The river was often “dry.” Put in a few man-made lakes, et voilà: a fun-in-the-sun resort smack-dab in the middle of Texas. Not that we were copying Lake Travis, Highland Lakes, or anything, nope. I’d often wondered if my dainty-hands-in-many-unknown-pies Clan leader had been involved. Certainly didn’t hurt us much, at least for the first four decades or so. Too bad that, eventually, the world found out how absolutely gorgeous it was here and how cheap the land values were.

  The sound of descending steps reminded us of the visitor.

  I turned to my brothers. “Since when has there been a wolf pack around here, anyway?”

  “Since about two months ago, m’lady,” a deep voice answered, the sound resonating as its owner followed Jess into the sparring room.

  Wow. The appearance certainly matched the voice—only way younger than I expected. I swallowed my very inappropriate “holy fuck, you’re hot” comment. Bloody hell, this boy was beyond gorgeous … and yes, I meant “boy.” I wasn’t the only one affected. Jess was nearly simpering as she moved to his side. My brothers each looked as if I’d just opened the gates and let a fresh lamb into the wolves’ den—our kind of wolves, that is. Tucker was flat-out staring, a quick lip lick his only betrayal; Rhys and Ianto were each giving the kid a once-over, twin looks of approval on both their faces. Whatever this boy had, he had it in spades, and those spades were hitting each and every one of us over the head and dragging us to the secret lair. My mouth went absolutely desert, and I scrabbled for the gallon of iced sports drink on the bench next to me.

  At first glance, I pegged him as in his late teens, perhaps early twenties. Technically not jailbait, but still young—far too young for any of us in this room, werewolf or not. After a second glance at his face, I revised my estimate further downward. Definitely jailbait. Smooth, tanned skin holding no trace of age or experience. His lovely cheekbones, which in a few years could be called chiseled, still held a trace of childhood softness. His amazing appearance was only a promise of even more once he reached full maturity. The boy’s brown hair was pulled back on the top and sides, divided into two tails sweeping over his wide shoulders to the middle of his very well-developed chest. A soft scent of boy sweat and musk reached me. Four identical throat clearings accompanied my deep gulp of the drink as I again stifled my very inappropriate urges when I met the boy’s amber-eyed stare. There was the wolf. In those clear, yellow-brown eyes gleaming at me. I could almost see the beast inside him, a puppy, anxious to get out and greet me properly.

  He bowed deeply, extending a leg in the most courteous manner, his style belying both his youth and his mundane clothing—a polo shirt and khakis. “My lady, Gregor Ashkarian, at your service. I come representing our Fenrir, Marcus Ashkarian, leader of the Ashkar pack. He wishes to extend our welcome at your return and invite you to join him at tomorrow night’s exhibition game at White Rock.”

  “You’ve been here two months? Ashkarian?” My brow furrowed as I searched for a memory that didn’t come. “I apologize; I don’t recognize the name at all. But then, I’ve been away.”

  Gregor nodded, still holding the bow. “A group of us recently came to Rio Seco.”

  “Do stand up, would you? No need for formality at this point. What brings you to Rio Seco? It’s not exactly the hub of the universe … or even of the Hill Country.”

  Gregor stood and held his hands behind him at parade rest, relaxing some but not all the way. I got the feeling he was as uncomfortable with formality as I was, but that his discomfort was less due to the protocol and more to do with getting his message out correctly. “Our pack runs a river rafting and camping ground over near Pedernales Falls. The weather is too …” He hunted for a word, then dropped the formality completely. “It’s been really sucky. With the falls dried up and no one camping in this heat wave, we needed to find something else to bring in money.”

  He pronounced the name of the park “Perdinalis.” Again, I had to rethink my initial impression. No way was this pack new to the Hill Country: only locals said it that way. The state park and the falls weren’t too far from here if mapped directly in a line, but they were a good seventy miles by road.

  “How long have y’all been there?” I asked. “Technically, you’re at the bounds of our immediate territory, even out that far.”

  “Your Clan leader knows about us,” he said, chest rising, a bit in challenge mode. His musky scent grew stronger. Puppy got his pride on, I thought. Good wolf. Alpha, if I didn’t miss my guess. I may be shite at vampire ages, but I certainly understood wolf; after all, with my shapeshifting Talent I could play one pretty damned well. I liked wolf.

  “No need to get your hackles up, kid. I’m good with that. I just didn’t know. That’s why you’re here then, the forty-eight-hour rule?”

  “Yes,” he said. “My Fenrir, our pack leader, is training me—I’m the emissary.” With a flash of white teeth, he became all teenager now, and quoted: “All supernatural folk within your immediate area must present themselves within forty-eight hours.” He sounded like a high schooler reciting the periodic table for chemistry class. “Though,” he added as an aside, “we’ll attend the formal reception, too.”

  “Consider yourselves presented.” I left the bench, stepping to him, holding out my hand. “Welcome to Rio Seco.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  AS HE TOOK MY HAND, a shiver of energy exuded from his touch. I took it in stride, silently thanking the powers that be for my recent and very intensive training on how not to react visibly. This kid leaked hormones worse than a torn screen door in a rainstorm. Did he have any idea? I doubted it, but I bet all
the local girls … and some of the boys … were sniffing around him in droves.

  Gregor gave my hand a firm shake, then stepped back and relaxed. “Thanks. Mark said to make sure to thank Mr. Walker, too, for letting us move here and buy the deli.”

  The clue light was now shining. This made a lot more sense than a random move to Rio Seco. The aforementioned deli had been closed since last year due to the “unfortunate” deaths of its owners, Greta and Boris Nagy, the brother-and-sister team who had murdered my cousin Marty. “Okay, I get it. It’s a good place, that shop. It’ll be nice to have a local grocery again.”

  Gregor nodded. “My uncle Mark bought it. He runs the place along with his brother and sister. It’s pretty cool, even though I have to work there during the summer.” He seemed chagrined at the loss of his freedom. “They’ve added a soda fountain and ice cream bar along with the grocery section. Spruced up the grill, too.”

  “Whoa, hold your horses there, kid. Does Bea know about the grill? The owner of the café there in the strip mall,” I explained. If the boy’s answer was no, I was ready to put some whoop ass on Adam first, for allowing it, then on the wer. I wanted no new business to interfere with Bea’s Place. Running it as a deli-cum-grocery as it had been was fine, but adding extra food service? With the economy in slow recovery mode, especially with a drought and heat wave, I was sure Bea could use all the business she could get … our recent estrangement aside.

  “Oh, yeah, totally,” he answered. “The brothers met with her first. Mr. Walker said to.”

  A thousand mental pardons to my partner for doubting his good sense.

  “She’s good with this?” My eyes narrowed as I studied the boy’s face. He seemed without guile, but my exposure to wer of any kind was limited. That, plus the fact I was still utter crap at reading truth in people’s demeanor without reaching into their minds made me press the issue. That was one area of Talent that, if graded, I’d have taken a very firm D in. Both aunts and Gigi despaired, but by the hundredth time I’d gotten cues wrong, they’d all thrown up their hands and declared I’d have to deal as is. Funny thing, Talent.

  “M’lady Keira.” He went back into formal mode and bowed again, this time a short acknowledgment. “We respect your territory greatly and are grateful for your hospitality and welcome here. The brothers would do nothing without Ms. Ruiz’s approval.”

  “Relax, already, Gregor,” I said with a gentle smile. He was adorable. “Thanks for letting me know that. You keep calling them ‘the brothers,’” I remarked. “Is that some sort of pack designation?”

  Gregor laughed. “Just an old joke. Grandpop had so many of the pack boys working for him at his place, he’d lose track of who was who. Mark and Levon were the only blood relatives. Grandpop ended up calling them ‘the brothers.’ When they grew up and took over the business, they even had it printed on their business cards.”

  Tucker intervened, putting me back on course. “You said your Fenrir wanted to invite Keira to an exhibition game?”

  “Oh yes,” Gregor said. “The game starts at nine and he said he’d save a section of the bleachers. He and Lev, his brother, are sponsoring it. He said the invite was for you and yours.”

  “You mean the entire vampire clan and my family members?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Mark said as many as you’d like.”

  I stared at the boy, wondering what on earth the locals would think of a slew of vampires and several shapeshifters at a local football game. That would certainly be a sight.

  Jess sidled closer to me. “Game?” she whispered, not understanding that in this part of Texas, only one game mattered, even in the middle of June: football.

  “Later,” I whispered back. “I’m going to take a wild guess and assume that Mark of ‘the brothers’ and Mark the Fenrir are the same person?”

  “Yeah, they are,” Gregor answered. “Sorry, it’s like, I know stuff and I figure you know stuff and well, I forget to explain.” He hung his head like a scolded puppy.

  “Not to worry.” I laughed. The poor kid was doing his best. “I’m just curious. You said the game’s in White Rock. At the high school stadium?”

  The boy nodded. “I’ll be a junior at White Rock next fall. I play running back.”

  “So you live in White Rock?”

  “With the pack, yes.”

  “Why would the Fenrir leave his pack and come to Rio Seco?”

  “Truth?”

  “That would nice. I imagine that some of the officials I’m going to be meeting soon won’t be bothered by such niceties, but I really do prefer it. It’s much easier to deal with. You said the pack needed money earlier—is the pack broke?”

  “No, it’s not like that,” he said, a bit frustrated but still trying to maintain. “I really don’t get all of it, but it’s something about cash flow. Mark and Lev are real good cooks. That’s why the deli.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” I said drily. “Well, then, I suppose this is a conversation I can have with your uncle the Fenrir. Speaking of which … Gregor, could you hang tight a sec? I need to ask my brothers a question.”

  “Absolutely,” he said.

  “Jess, would you mind? Gregor, just have a seat on the steps, I won’t be long.” Jess nodded and escorted Gregor out of the room, shutting the door behind him. She stayed inside with us but remained next to the door.

  “Can he hear us?” I asked my brothers.

  Tucker shook his head. “Doubtful. He’s wer, not shapeshifter. Wolves have good hearing, but this door and this room were designed by Kellys. I think even I’d have a problem hearing through it.”

  “Good enough. About this invitation, then. What do y’all think? Should I accept? Should we meet Mark Ashkarian before the formal reception? This wasn’t something covered by my training.”

  Tucker shrugged, as did Rhys. “I don’t know if it’s kosher or not. Ianto? You’re better at this, do you know?” Rhys asked his twin.

  “Depends. That’s up to Keira. Sis, you need to start how you mean to go on,” Ianto answered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Gigi likes a formal Court, as I’m sure you know. Lots of protocol. You and Adam can set up your own ambience, your own theme, so to speak—formal, informal, business casual—whatever you prefer.”

  “You’re telling me we don’t have to go through all this reception rigmarole?” Could I really get out of a long, drawn-out ceremony and all the dress-up and boredom that came with?

  “No,” Ianto replied, bursting my short-lived bubble. “You still need to take the oaths of fealty and we still have to give you our official blood oaths and bond, but there’s absolutely no need for all the pomp and circumstance.”

  “Don’t forget,” Jess reminded me. “You and Adam need to review the list of attendees for the reception.”

  I waved her off. “I’m sure Lance is probably reminding Adam of the very same thing right now,” I said.

  “I believe that’s right,” Jess said. “He was headed toward the office with the paperwork when I came down here.”

  “That’s fine, then,” I said. “Ianto, that’s a relief.” I wiped my brow in a melodramatic gesture. “Jess, make it so. Let Gregor back in.”

  She opened the door and motioned the boy back in as I continued. “Guys, I’ll totally answer for Adam about the ambience of the reception: We’re going as casual as we can. Nice duds, but no pomp … and most certainly, no circumstance.”

  “What does ‘pomp and circumstance’ mean, anyway?” Tucker remarked as he plopped down beside me on the bench.

  “Shakespeare.” Ianto plopped next to him. “Othello’s line. He was talking about the formality that goes with an important event.”

  “It’s also a series of marches for orchestra,” Jess piped up. “Composed by Sir Edward Elgar.” She got shy again. “Umm, I was kind of a music major before …”

  “She’s right.” Ianto smiled at Jess. “Elgar got the title from Othello.”

  “Well,
then, there you have it,” I said. “No orchestras, okay?”

  “No orchestras,” she echoed. “Would an iPod work?”

  I laughed, as did my brothers. “Whatever floats your boat, Jess. I’m deferring to Adam on that part. He has tons more experience than I have. In my book, y’all have free rein.”

  Rhys hopped up from the floor and gave me a huge bear hug. “Oh, most excellent,” he said. “I like free rein.”

  “Within reason, O decorating guru, within reason,” I warned. “I said Adam has the final say on this, so don’t go all crazy DIY show-decorating with cactus flowers or anything. Simple, got it?”

  He bent in an elaborate bow. “I hear and obey, my lady and mistress.” I smacked him on the ass with my towel.

  Gregor, who’d been patiently waiting at the door, and very much listening with interest, let out a semi-suppressed laugh.

  “Sorry, kid,” I said. “What I can say? They’re my brothers.”

  “I know what you mean,” he said. “I’ve got my uncles and other pack members … not to mention the football team.”

  “They still haze?” Tucker sounded interested.

  “Not much these days, but yeah, there’s some. No one gets strung up on a post dressed in their boxers anymore, if that’s what you mean.”

  “That’s more or less what I meant,” Tucker said. “Keira, didn’t some boys over at White Rock get kidnapped, stripped down, and abandoned out at the lake one night?”

  “Back in my day, you mean?”

  Tucker nodded as he slung his towel over his neck. “When you were a junior, right?”

  “I think that’s right,” I said. “I remember it happening, but not the specifics. That was twenty-some-odd years ago.”

  “They don’t do that kind of thing anymore,” Gregor said quickly, as if to prove to us that he wasn’t a barbarian. “Church got all hot and bothered over some stupid pranks a couple of years ago, so they laid down the law.”