Blood Wager (Blood Destiny #1)

by Connie Suttle

  "I was calling about the bodyguard position listed in the paper," I said.

  "A girl?" He sounded a little snarly.

  "Yes."

  "Be at this address in an hour." He gave an address, which I hastily wrote down and hung up immediately after verifying. Not one for words, I suppose. A cab dropped me off at the designated address and the driver handed off a card with his cell number so I could call when the interview was over. I didn't know whether I liked all the male fawning and attention or not; it was certainly a new experience for me. We'd pulled into a circle drive after passing tall, wrought iron gates that stood open. Wondering if the gates were normally shut, I stared around me as I walked to the front door of the huge, three story mansion and pressed the doorbell. Somebody had lots of money; there was no doubt about that.

  The door opened and I found a tall, very nice looking man with black hair and nearly black eyes standing there, dressed completely in dark clothing. He didn't have time to say anything, merely drawing in a sharp breath before another man, dressed in denim head to toe, rocketed through the door and barreled right into me. My reflexes were much faster now, I discovered as I flung the attacker to the side. He snarled and came right back after me. I backhanded him, knocking him into the wall beside the door. That slowed him down a bit. The tall, dark-haired man watched the drama unfolding before him on the wide verandah, his arms crossed casually over his chest as if a battle weren't going on all around him. His lips curved in an amused smile as my assailant slid down the wall. My attacker was a little stiff when he rose and lurched toward me, so I grabbed him by the collar of his denim jacket and tossed him easily off the porch. He landed with a satisfying crunch a good ten feet away, right in the middle of the paved circular drive.

  "What the hell was that?" I asked, staring at the crumpled heap in the driveway.

  "Your new boss," the tall man replied, grinning. "Davis, get up and get back in here!" He shouted at the man.

  "Maybe I should go help him," I said, thinking I wasn't making any points by beating the crap out of the guy.

  Davis rolled over on his side, managed to come up on all fours and then slowly stood. He looked at me and then wobbled over. "Where the hell did you learn how to hit like that?" he asked, wiping his bleeding lip with a knuckle.

  "It's a newly acquired skill," I replied.

  "I am William Winkler," the tall man said, offering his hand. I took it.

  "Lissa Haddon," I gave my new name.

  "Come in, Lissa, and we'll talk salary," William Winkler said, so I followed him inside the house. Davis came in behind me, a little slower than he'd gone out.

  Chapter 3

  "Davis and you will be the night guards, Glen and Phil are the day guards," Winkler informed me after we settled on thirty-seven thousand as a starting salary. It included a room in the guesthouse so that was all right with me; I just hoped there weren't too many windows to block. Winkler owned a nationwide electronic security company plus an armored car service and farmed out security guards to banks and the like. Having a bunch of personal bodyguards seemed a little paranoid to me but I kept that to myself.

  "We patrol the property," Davis informed me, rubbing his left shoulder as we walked around the edges of Winkler's expansive grounds later. The house was huge, sitting on four acres of well-kept lawn. An eight-foot concrete and stucco wall surrounded the property and the iron gate that had been open when I arrived was now closed and would require a code to get in. "Nobody comes in unless we're expecting them," Davis added. "Winkler has a personal assistant who answers calls and the like during the daytime. You're lucky I was there to get the phone when you called."

  "Sorry about the shoulder," I said. "I had no idea who was attacking me. It was reflex."

  "I'll remember not to jump you next time," he rotated his arm a little, trying to get his shoulder to loosen up. "The other guys come on around six-thirty," he said. I mentally gulped, hoping I could get to my room before the sun came up and that I wouldn't fry if I had to go on duty before the sun was completely down. I'd find out, I suppose. Again, I wished for the latest version of the Vampire Manual.

  My hand covered a yawn the next morning as I was introduced to Glen and Phil, the day guys. Seems I had the whole top floor of the guesthouse to myself. Glen and Phil, having seniority, got bedrooms inside the house and had the extra duty of jumping and running at night if anything got past Davis and me. I also discovered that I could deal with a bit of muted light but the brighter it was, the more uncomfortable I became. I was glad to hole up in my top floor guesthouse suite where there were light blocking shades, installed specifically for day sleepers. My alarm was set for six so I could grab a quick shower before going to work. The only remaining dilemma was finding a meal.

  * * *

  "We've got problems," Edward informed Sergio as he watched the evening news. The anchor was describing a young man from a local community who had posted an unusual account on MySpace.

  "We're trying to contact the young man for an interview," the anchor was smiling, refusing to take the whole thing seriously. "The teen claims he watched a female vampire bite someone else before chasing after him. He says the vampire didn't kill the man, she just took blood from him." The anchor and his female counterpart were both laughing. "That's all for tonight, and fangs for watching," the anchor said.

  "Fuck!" Sergio shouted. "Where the hell is Harry? Isn't he supposed to be out looking for her?"

  "We have no idea when that teen saw her, if he did see her," Edward was calming himself. "You know those young ones that do what they call Goth? Who knows what kinds of tales they are capable of spinning? I suggest you get Harry to track down this young man. A little compulsion will tell us right away if he's being honest or not."

  "Fine," Sergio snapped angrily, pulling out his cell phone.

  Harry had gotten information from the Del City Police Department after they located the Cadillac. It had been abandoned in a cemetery near the center of town and he'd employed a little compulsion of his own to examine the vehicle while it was impounded. It definitely had the smell of a vampire about it. He was just about to call Edward with the news when his cell rang.

  "Harry, here," he said after checking the ID.

  "Harry, we have another assignment for you; a human that may have spotted our quarry," Edward informed him.

  Harry blinked at Edward's news. "I was just about to call you, the police found the Cadillac abandoned in Del City and it has the scent all over it."

  "Where was the car?" Edward asked.

  "In a cemetery," Harry replied.

  "Meet us at the house," Edward instructed. "And bring your laptop. We have information on someone who may have seen her."

  Harry was in his car within seconds and on his way to the house that Edward and Sergio had been forced to rent. There were three safe houses in the area but those generally required checking in with the Council. Edward and Sergio wanted to avoid that at all costs.

  * * *

  "Sir?" Charles stood in the doorway to Wlodek's study, a sheaf of papers in his hands.

  "What do you have, Charles?" Wlodek, Head of the Vampire Council, looked up at his personal assistant. For nearly three hundred years Charles had been his private secretary, but times and labels had changed. Charles didn't seem to care one way or the other what he was called. Anywhere else, Charles would be considered the biggest snoop anyone had ever seen. He was also discretion itself and often provided Wlodek with information and insights that he might not have gotten otherwise.

  "These papers are for you to sign," Charles handed the pages he was holding over to Wlodek after walking up to Wlodek's huge, antique desk. "And there's something else you should know."

  "And that is?" Wlodek quirked an eyebrow at his assistant.

  "You know about MySpace?"

  "Your space?"

  "No, Honored One, MySpace. It's a networking website where anyone can post just about anything. I keep a lookout on all those websites and
blogs, sir, in case anything pops up that we should be interested in."

  "I'm assuming you found something?" Wlodek's eyes were nearly black, they were so dark, and only his hair was darker in color. He was more than twenty-six hundred years old and his origins were Greek. His name, however, had been something other than Wlodek in the beginning. After Poland became a country, he'd settled there for a time and changed his name. He'd been known as Wlodek ever since.

  "Yes, Honored One," Charles continued. "A human teen claims to have seen a female vampire drinking from a man." Charles was holding back a smile, but amusement danced in his hazel eyes anyway. Wlodek wasn't particularly fond of merriment in such close quarters. He cleared his throat to bring Charles back to the issue at hand. "Did he say if the man still lives?" Wlodek asked, his face betraying no emotion.

  "That's what he said. Of course, we have no way of knowing whether this might be true or not." Charles nearly bounced on his toes. A female vampire. What news!

  "If he saw a female, then it likely isn't true," Wlodek sighed. "We have so few females." Charles nearly deflated at Wlodek's statement.

  "I wonder why they're so hard to turn?" Charles mused aloud. He knew very well that a female hadn't been successfully turned in more than seven hundred years. Wlodek would know that better than anyone, so Charles kept the information to himself, schooling his features. He'd allowed himself a bit of excitement. Now it was time to deal with reality.

  "A question I have often asked myself," Wlodek answered. "Find out as much as you can about this rumor, young Charles, and keep me posted. If I feel this merits investigation, I will send an Enforcer."

  "Of course, Honored One." A bit of Charles' former excitement returned and he smiled to himself as he left Wlodek's office. Wlodek leafed through the papers Charles left with him before picking up a pen and signing his name.

  * * *

  I had to be swift and cautious. The mansion that bordered Winkler's was having a party and some of the guests had gone outside to smoke pot at the back fence. Scaling the eight-foot wall in two blinks, I silently dropped down on the other side, three feet away from the two twenty-somethings who were lighting a joint. I ordered one to look away while I helped myself at the throat of the other. He enjoyed it more than I did, sighing lustily when I licked his throat and pulled away. I was over the wall again in another blink as the other young man turned to his companion and offered him a hit.

  "We're going out," Davis announced, calling me in on his walkie-talkie a few minutes later. He'd given me a little time earlier to go and retrieve my suitcase from the motel room and check out.

  "Where are we going?" I asked. "I warn you, I only brought jeans with me."

  "That'll be good enough for tonight, Winkler just wants a beer," Davis said. "I'm driving, you sit in the back." A Mercedes waited on the circular drive when Winkler walked out of the house dressed in a designer shirt and jeans, wearing loafers that probably cost more than I used to earn in a month. He moved with a casual grace, sliding his wide-shouldered frame into the front passenger seat. Winkler wasn't hard to look at, so I reminded myself that it wasn't polite to stare. Dutifully I loaded into the back of the car. I'd never ridden in a Mercedes before and wanted to explore the vehicle a little. I figured that would be rude so I folded my hands politely in my lap and listened while Winkler told Davis where he wanted to go.

  A nightclub in Dallas was our destination for the evening and it was definitely upscale with what I considered high-class call girls at the bar. Winkler got a table while I asked Davis if he wanted me off to the side or somewhere else to keep a watch on things. "No, sit at the table with Winkler," he said. "Just make sure nobody approaches him unless he wants it." Davis sat down between Winkler and me. He was facing the door, I had the bar area.

  "Hooker at two o'clock," I leaned in and muttered to Davis who passed the message off to Winkler.

  "Let her come," Winkler drank from the bottle of beer he'd ordered. I watched the woman anyway as the dyed-blonde sauntered toward Winkler, wiggling suggestively as she settled beside him. Red lips pouting a little, she maneuvered her body as close to Winkler's as she could. He bought a drink for her and it wasn't long before she was doing her best to rub herself all over him. Projectile vomiting came to mind as I struggled to scan the room and ignore the implied sex. My chair overturned as I leapt up to snatch the cell phone out of a customer's hand; he was about to snap a photograph of Winkler and the woman. Yeah, I thought she was a hooker, but I had to give her the benefit of the doubt until I knew for sure.

  "You don't want to do that," I was afraid I'd crush the cell phone just by squeezing it a little while the man backed away from me. "S-sorry," he said.

  "I'll just bet you are," I slapped the phone into his hand. "Tell me who you are and why you wanted that picture," I growled.

  "R-reporter, Dallas News," he mumbled.

  "Well, reporter, Dallas News, don't you think it's time you left?" I gave him the nastiest glare I could conjure. My life had certainly changed in the space of a few days. Before, I would have apologized to a fly for swatting at it.

  "Sure," the reporter agreed breathlessly, backing away from me a little more.

  "And you can forget you saw any of us," I added, following him until he was out the door and heading down the hall toward the elevator. The nightclub perched on the top floor of one of the many tall buildings in Dallas, with a nice view of the entire city. There wasn't time to stare out the plate glass windows next to the bank of elevators; I had a job to do. Sighing, I walked back to the bar. The hooker was now attempting to taunt me, licking Winkler's earlobe when I sat down again. I just rolled my eyes a little and looked the other way.

  "Who was the jerk?" Davis asked, leaning over so I could hear him. Actually, I could have heard him just fine anyway, but he didn't know that.

  "Reporter for Dallas News," I informed Davis.

  "Did he get the picture?"

  "No."

  "Good."

  Winkler ordered another beer and the hooker asked for another fruit drink. Davis and I were served club soda. I pretended to drink mine. "He's taking her home," Davis grimaced when Winkler indicated he was ready to go.

  "Fuck," I muttered. Who can account for the taste in men? I certainly couldn't. And the fact that my language had now descended all the way into the gutter didn't help matters, either. Some other woman might have handled becoming vampire with grace and dignity. I wasn't that woman. I hadn't gotten to mourn my husband, go to his funeral, or fight for what should still be mine. That was taken away. I had no idea if I could put up a good fight against Ed and Serge, but as far as I was concerned, they had a lot to answer for.

  I sat up front with Davis this time while Winkler and his hooker du jour necked in the back of the car. I caught Davis glancing into the rear-view mirror from time to time and briefly wondered what he was seeing. After thinking about it for a moment, I realized I didn't want to know.

  Phil and Glen had taken the night off so Davis and I checked the house over while Winkler poured out a drink for his lady friend. When we gave the all clear, he escorted her to his bedroom on the second floor. I wanted to put a finger down my throat and gag. "Do you want to stay inside and guard the house or go outside and walk the perimeter?" Davis asked me.

  "If it's all the same to you, I'll go outside," I said.

  "Take a jacket, it's getting cold out," he called after me. I just waved a hand and walked out the door. Davis wasn't bad looking as men went, but for me, it was still much too soon after losing Don, even if he had been unconscious for two full months before he died. Davis had wavy brown hair and light brown eyes that tended to sparkle a little if he was amused. He was around six feet tall and in good shape. He worked out with weights; I'd seen them on their racks inside his downstairs guesthouse apartment.

  Instead of walking the perimeter the first couple of rounds that night, I jogged a little, making a full round in a short period of time. It gave me time to think and I wonder
ed what was worrying Winkler. I also wondered why a reporter wanted a photograph that badly. And four bodyguards? Did the president have that many swarming around him all the time? Six-thirty rolled around and Glen and Phil took over while Davis informed them that the boss had a sleepover. Phil grumbled a little—somebody would have to take her home and he figured it would be him.

  * * *

  "Have you tracked down the teen?" Edward asked Harry when Harry arrived with the cooler of blood.

  "Not yet," Harry replied. "And I had to lie and tell the supplier that my fridge broke down so he'd send more blood." Harry's complaint was ignored. Edward could have ordered it himself from the Council-owned blood bank, but that would tell them where he was. Edward had no desire for the Council to learn his whereabouts.

  * * *

  "I have the information, Honored One," Charles was back with more papers. Wlodek had to think for a moment to determine what Charles meant.

  "Well?" he asked. Charles smiled. Wlodek knew that smile. Charles could charm or bribe information from just about anyone, and since compulsion didn't work over the phone, those skills were often quite useful. Wlodek never asked how Charles did it; he really didn't want to know.

  "The teen described it quite accurately," Charles was still smiling. "And I managed to learn from him that the man bitten provides the boy with his weekly supply of marijuana. The man is still supplying him, although he seems reluctant to do so."

  "So, have either of them seen the vampire again?" Wlodek didn't know whether to express his growing interest to Charles.

  "The teen says no. I haven't spoken with the dealer."

  "Why don't you attempt to do so and we will go from there?" Wlodek glanced at the papers Charles handed him to sign. "What does Gilbert want this time?" he held up the request for an audience with the Council.

  "He swears he has created a device that will warm a unit of blood in less than ten minutes," Charles snorted. "You know how many times we've tried something like this and it just ruins the blood."