Blood Wager (Blood Destiny #1)

by Connie Suttle

  * * *

  Gavin knew Lissa had gone out to feed. He felt a bit of guilt over that; he had plenty of blood stocked inside his small refrigerator while she was forced to find a donor. Gavin used the extra time to do research and the more online reports he read on her disappearance, the greater his rage grew. He should never have allowed Edward and Sergio to leave intact. He should have killed them where they stood. Wlodek must deal with the situation, now. Gavin sighed and shut his laptop when he heard Lissa's steps on the stairs.

  * * *

  Davis asked Gavin and me to come into the house once we were on duty. Phil and Glen were up still, both of them wearing grim expressions. "Winkler is in his bedroom," James whispered as we walked inside the large kitchen.

  "We received death threats today from an unidentified source," Glen said right away. "We came here at the right time; part of the wall around the house in Denton was blasted down and then two letters were delivered, one saying that if Winkler completes the software program and offers it for sale, they'll kill him."

  "What does the other one say?" I asked.

  "The other one says he's a dead man," Phil answered my question. "They're not waiting. They want him dead now."

  "Crime families or terrorists?" I asked. "I know, nobody's told me what it is he's working on and truthfully I can't say I want to know, but even I've figured out it must be important. And since he's in the security business, it has to be bad for them, doesn't it?"

  "She's smarter than she looks," Phil elbowed Glen.

  "Thanks. Don't think I haven't heard every dumb blonde joke in the book, either," I muttered sarcastically.

  James snorted and I felt like elbowing him. Yeah. I got offended every time somebody at the courthouse decided to tell me, yet again, the latest dumb blonde joke. Plenty of dumb blondes started out with dark hair and a bottle of peroxide. Davis must have noticed my anger and discomfort. "They were only teasing, Lissa."

  "Now might not be a good time for it," I grumbled.

  "Settle down," Gavin placed a hand on my arm. I caught myself before I hissed at him, jerking my arm out of his grasp instead.

  Phil cleared his throat. "We have to be proactive about this," he said. "Winkler wants to wire the fence with extra monitors and sensors so a crew is coming up from Dallas to do that. They'll be here for three days and additional security is coming up as well. We also asked for a few handpicked guards that will help us out with this. Bear in mind if you see, hear or suspect anything or anyone, get on the phone right away." He lifted a box from the granite island and tossed it to me. "Winkler said you should start using this immediately." The box held a cell phone and a charger. I wasn't about to say thanks.

  I stalked out of the house after the meeting was over, ready to make my rounds. "You must hold your anger in check," Gavin came up silently beside me.

  "Trust me, I am holding my anger in check," I snapped.

  "I understand what you are going through," he added. That brought me to a standstill. I stared at him, dumbfounded. As usual, his face was an expressionless mask.

  "Buddy," I said, poking him in the chest with a finger, "You have no fucking idea what I'm going through. Now stay the hell away from me." I nearly ran to get away from him.

  Tears aren't easy for a vampire. They are hard for our bodies to make, I suppose, since we don't take in water or anything. At least they were mostly clear and not blood. It was something I learned that night. I wiped them away angrily when Gavin was on the other side of the house and pretended nothing was wrong when I passed him on patrol. I was sensitive to every rustle, every sound and every little breeze on that February evening in Oklahoma. Perhaps it would have been therapeutic to take out my frustrations on a nameless, faceless enemy, but now, in addition to keeping my eyes and ears open for an attack from Serge and Ed, terrorists or organized crime wanted to come calling. I had to be ready for that. Winkler had hired me almost sight unseen that very first night and I owed him. The other person I felt I owed, however, was me. I don't know why Phil's little dig upset me so much, but it did. Now I had to find a way to get past that. Had to.

  Phil and Glen took over at five so I went to my bedroom and shut the door—I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. Therefore, it was poetic justice when Gavin came knocking. Sunrise wouldn't come for another hour and thirty-five minutes, so what the hell. Why not entertain company?

  "Go away," I yelled.

  He opened the door anyway. "What do you want?" my voice was surly. A month ago, I wouldn't have treated my worst enemy that way.

  "I thought you might want to talk." His face remained shuttered as it usually did, his dark eyes raking my face.

  "About what? And since when do you talk? Your stimulating conversation is only outstripped by your sparkling wit," I muttered, refusing to take the bait.

  Gavin turned his head and it took me a few minutes to realize he was chuckling. At least the mask had cracked a little. I threw a pillow at his head, which he ducked easily. "Go away," I snapped.

  "Is that the worst you're going to do?" he lifted his gaze to me after he ducked the pillow and his dark brown eyes were still laughing even if his mouth wasn't.

  "Hmmph," I said. "What did you do to deserve worse? There might be a couple of people I'd like to beat into the ground, but I have no idea where they are and they'd probably get me first," I said. "That might not be a bad thing. They could finish what they started. You know," I pointed my second pillow at him, "It's not dying that worries me. It's the pain beforehand. Now go away. I want to wallow in misery for a while."

  "All right." He backed out of my doorway and closed the door.

  * * *

  "Honored One, I saw her control her temper last evening. I was worried that she was about to attack one of the others, but a brief bout of anger was all she displayed and then calmed herself. It was quite interesting to watch, truly.

  G."

  Gavin shut his laptop. He had no doubt that the two Lissa had referred to were Sergio and Edward. It was a shame he couldn't tell her that they'd been shipped off to London and locked away until the Council could deal with them. Unfortunately, the Council wouldn't deal with them until after Lissa herself had been eliminated and Gavin had returned to report to the Council. She'd given him important information, however. He would make her death as swift and painless as he could.

  Chapter 5

  Vampires don't dream. At least I didn't, and I liked dreams, most of the time. And how old did vampires get? Were they immortal like all the books and movies said or did they die after a while, getting all shriveled and wrinkly until one day, poof? No more vampire? I was beginning to think of the missing manual as the FVM—Fucking Vampire Manual. Lists of thoughts and questions felt like a good idea at times. At other times, it seemed like the worst possible thing I could do. What if somebody went through my belongings? Would they find my lists and break out the stakes to stab into my chest or the long, sharp swords to behead me? Maybe my first trip out should consist of a visit to a church, just to see if I could walk into the thing.

  "Day off tomorrow," Davis informed us as we showed up for our shift. Gavin was back to his usual, silent self, I noticed. I didn't speak to him, either. "Winkler says you can borrow a van or a car if you want to go out," Davis went on. "The new security guards will be working in your place and the electronics crew will be working round the clock; they're bringing enough people for two full shifts."

  A day off. I was heading to the bookstore, first thing. There was a Barnes and Noble nearby; I'd hit that first. And then maybe the church. Or I'd try going to Don's grave. I wondered if I could get flowers somewhere. I didn't want any of those plastic things and the silk ones usually got stolen or trashed later. The real thing was temporary, just like most people's lives. And they generally smelled better. Some of the grocery stores carried flowers, I knew. I'd check into that.

  It was while I was making my rounds a while later that I heard rustling outside the fence. Stopping on a dime, I
went completely still to listen. More rustling came, and what sounded like footsteps. I pulled out my cell, sending a prearranged text to Gavin—Help. He was there in seconds, coming right to me as if he knew, somehow, where I would be. I smelled him before he arrived; that wonderful scent hadn't left him and hadn't dulled with time, either. I'd finally put it out of my mind—it was a mystery I probably wasn't destined to solve.

  Gavin heard the shuffling the minute he arrived. Putting a finger to his lips to keep me silent, he ran noiselessly down the wall for around thirty feet before jumping up, lightly catching the edge of the wall and lifting himself to the top. He crouched there once he was up, watching. We heard giggling then, and a lighter clicking. Now I knew what was happening; the unmistakable smell of pot wafted over the wall. What is it with people and their wacky weed? Maybe I was a prude, but I'd never tried it. Honest. And now they were causing me to jump at shadows. Too bad I'd already fed, but then I recalled the drunk at the bar and thought better of that idea.

  "Just keep an ear out," Gavin was back at my side, speaking softly. When had he jumped down? I hadn't seen or heard it. I'd have to do better than that. Nodding to him, I went on my way. The smokers were gone when I next passed that spot.

  The electronics crew arrived right at five that morning and Gavin and I checked their IDs when they drove in. We also went through their trucks with a fine toothed comb, making sure there weren't any weapons. Phil and Glen were out in the yard helping us before it was all over, checking over the luggage and equipment now scattered across the circular drive. Everybody seemed to be who they said they were, so Gavin and I went to find our beds. Fleetingly, I wondered if he went back to the kitchen to eat or if he had something in the fridge or the pantry. I seldom got into either to check. I did drink hot tea now and then, just to appear normal at meetings held in the kitchen. It felt almost normal, too. Of course, I'd excuse myself and go to the bathroom to get rid of it later.

  The van felt big and bulky to me as I drove it toward Barnes and Noble, out by Quail Springs Mall. First, I planned to check out all the new releases. It had been months since I'd stepped inside a bookstore just to browse. Someone tried to strike up a conversation with me from the moment I walked inside the store, so I attempted to ignore the man while I made my way through the new paperback racks. He wasn't giving up that easily.

  "She's book shopping, not date shopping," Gavin dropped a hand on the man's shoulder, forcing the man to back away quickly.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked, reading the back flap of a mystery and deliberately refusing to look at him.

  "I enjoy reading too, when I have time," he said. "I've read that one already," he tapped the book I was holding. "Not as good as some of the author's others, but still a good read."

  "Ah," I said. "So, what would you recommend?" I looked up at him now, I couldn't help it. "So I won't waste my money." I watched his face; he so seldom had any sort of expression on it. That didn't keep me from thinking about how nice he looked or anything.

  "This one," he lifted another mystery by a not so well known author. "The story is more original than the other."

  "All right, but if I don't like it, I'm holding you responsible," I said.

  "Feel free. If you can make me feel guilt, I will be much surprised."

  "That must be nice, to live in a guilt-free world," I observed.

  "I said if you can make me feel guilt. I didn't say I didn't feel it."

  "Ooh, excuse me. Tarzan not feel guilt Jane heaps upon him," I said. He turned his head but not before I saw a corner of his mouth quirk a little.

  I picked up the book he'd recommended and then went wandering around. Gavin went his own way after a bit, which was what I was hoping he'd do. Setting my stack onto the registers about an hour later, I chatted with the cashier while pulling money out of my pocket. I'd left my purse behind, opting instead for stuffing cash and my fake driver's license in the pocket of my jeans. The cashier bagged up my books and I went out to the van, dropping the bag onto the passenger seat.

  My next stop was a grocery store, where I bought a mixed bouquet of flowers before heading out to Rose Hill Cemetery. Don and I had purchased two plots five years before. It was likely I'd never be buried in mine now, if that vampires turn to ash thing were true. The headstone had already been inscribed with Don's information; I saw it as soon as I climbed out of the van. The gravesite was near the narrow road running through the cemetery, covered still in a pile of raw Oklahoma dirt and brittle dead flowers. I hugged myself, realizing just how short a time had passed since Don's death. Spring was still teasing and barely making an appearance. There were tight buds on nearby trees and just the hint of green on the ground surrounding the grave, but most of it was still brown grass. Tears fell as I cleaned away old flowers and debris.

  "Here you go, honey," I laid the fresh flowers on Don's grave and sat down beside it. Even though it was quite dark with no moon, I could see perfectly well and couldn't help staring at my name, inscribed on the other side of the double headstone. Only my date of death was missing. I wondered if eventually they'd put the same date of death on my side that Don's carried—January fourth.

  "I'm sorry I didn't make it to the funeral," I said. "But then you probably know why. I sure hope your brother honored your wishes. And I'm sorry I didn't realize you'd already left me that day. Sorry that the doctor had to tell me instead of my knowing it, like I should have." I wiped my cheeks. "I haven't mourned you properly, either." A sob accompanied those words. "Honey, I'm in such a terrible place now and I don't know what the hell I'm doing," I said when I could speak coherently again. "It's like one of those awful dreams, when you find out there's a test in class that you didn't study for and you don't know any of the answers." I sniffled for a little while longer.

  "Anyway, I wanted to come by and say hello," I went on after a bit. "I hope you're somewhere listening. I don't know when or if I'll make it back." I was wiping my cheeks on a sleeve as I made my way to the van, wishing I'd bought some tissues. I needed them now.

  * * *

  Gavin wished he hadn't followed her. He heard every private word she uttered, and it was sad. Horribly sad. He waited for half an hour after she'd gone to climb into Winkler's Jaguar; Winkler had asked for it to be brought up with the security team. Davis had lent him the keys after Gavin said he needed something smaller than one of the vans. Lissa would have noticed one of the vans more easily than the low to the ground Jaguar. Cursing softly, Gavin put the car in gear and drove toward Nichols Hills.

  "Honored One, our secondary is being threatened by other factions and security is tight and quite heavy, now. Additional forces have arrived and our primary is hemmed in. She has developed new skills in slipping away for her meals. Even I am failing to detect her at times and am at a loss to explain this. I will keep you informed to the best of my ability.

  G."

  She was a ghost. She barely spoke to anyone now, Gavin noted as he watched her slip inside her bedroom after they'd finished their shift. It was a Sunday morning, early, around five-thirty or so. He heard the shower running and knew she was cleaning up. Winkler was also wandering the house like a specter when he wasn't working—Davis informed Gavin that Winkler was working well into the night most of the time. Gavin had no idea if that meant the software was coming along or if problems had developed.

  * * *

  "I want to go out to eat." I hadn't seen Winkler in days, yet he now stood before me, declaring that he was starving and wanting to go out for a meal.

  "Where do you want to go?" I asked. Winkler was dressed in a white, long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs folded back a time or two, black jeans and black cowboy boots with silver tips. Well, weren't we western tonight?

  "Where can I get a chicken fried steak?" he answered my question with one of his own while grinning a little, his nearly black eyes twinkling mischievously.

  "Several places, but there's at least one that serves up a pretty good chicken fry and it's a li
ttle off the beaten path," I said, appreciating the boyish grin on his face. Days had passed since I'd felt like smiling, but I was foolishly beaming back at Winkler now.

  "Good, we'll go there," he said. Gavin appeared beside us, offering to drive.

  "I know where we're going," I said, snatching the keys to the Jaguar away from him. He just shrugged and let me have my way. Those words were probably the most I'd spoken to anybody for days. Can vampires get depressed? I sure felt depressed. I'd wondered several times over the past week whether the walking into the sun thing was true and how painful it would be if I did it. Yeah, I was back to the pain thing again.

  We all climbed into the Jaguar. Winkler rode shotgun so Gavin was forced into the back seat and it irked him, I could tell. Well, he could drive on the way back. We made our way to I-240 and swung around until we got to the Del City exit, ending up at Don's Alley Restaurant. I know. I used to tease Don all the time about it because we liked to eat there. Unfortunately, it was named after a different Don. "You can get your chicken fry here," I said, pocketing the keys instead of handing them to Gavin, who lifted an eyebrow a little but didn't say anything. I hate giving people directions while they're driving. I'd rather get myself there if I know where I'm going and the driver doesn't.

  "Don't you want something to eat?" Winkler grinned at me over his menu.

  "No, I ate already and I'm not really hungry. I'll just take a glass of tea," I said. Gavin got black coffee; he said he'd eaten already, too. Winkler ordered the chicken-fried steak, along with mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans and ranch on his salad. A big dinner roll came with all that and Winkler stared at the enormous pile of food when it came.