Blood Ties: A Grace Harper Novel

by J. T. Hardy

  "Hey!" I glared at Rude Dude, but he--

  --I stand in a dirt street lined with wooden huts. Sunset glows on the horizon, the same orange as a fire consuming the village. Women in heavy-weave tunics run screaming as giants chase them, snatching them into the air with massive hands. Behind them, a wall of water rushes forward, churning with trees and debris and the bodies of those unable to flee its path. In seconds it washes over us, slamming me into the earth. I scream, choking as water fills my lungs. Anger fills my soul. We were betrayed, betrayed!

  --I was dry and breathing, the village and the women shifting back to the star-speckled sky and the bright lights of the shops.

  What. The. Hell?

  Rude Dude gaped, his mouth slightly open, his expression awed and befuddled. It took me longer than it should have to realize he'd let go.

  Something whooshed past, immediately followed by a crack sharp as shattering rock. Rude Dude vanished in a blur.

  I groaned. How many freaking Pretty Boys were we facing?

  I scrambled to my feet, no desire to look a gift rescue in the mouth no matter how weird the situation was. Rule one: Survive the weird shit first, then figure out what it all meant later.

  Time rebooted and music filled the air.

  Movement flickered in my peripheral vision, and I dived sideways a heartbeat before Fabio blew by. His coal-black hair swirled behind him like a cape as he skidded to a stop. His moves were pure action flick.

  If this fight hadn't appeared--to everyone else's perspective--out of thin air, people would think we were filming a movie.

  "Feel free to yell 'cut' anytime," I muttered.

  Fabio turned and tossed his locks off his impressive shoulders with a shake of his head. Either my adrenaline was going full tilt, or he'd done it in slow motion.

  "Grace?" Libby called, sounding bewildered. I couldn't imagine how this pause-and-play reality must look to her.

  "Battle stations!"

  She stared for half a second, then dug into her backpack. I hoped she grabbed anything but Lola. Guns brought cops even faster than supernatural kidnapping attempts.

  She pulled out her taser.

  Good girl.

  The happy tourists sitting at the courtyard tables had figured out something uncool was unfolding and the screams began. Libby fired the taser at Fabio, but the electrodes bounced off his back.

  "We're screwed," she said.

  "Six ways from Sunday." I dropped into fighting stance, fists up and ready. Fabio laughed. I sneered. "Oh, that's just mean."

  A growl split the air--deep, guttural, angry--but it hadn't come from Fabio. Air whooshed again and a streak of spiky white zipped in front of me.

  "Didn't Daniel tell you to run?" said a white-haired Pretty Boy who had to be Zack. He launched himself at Fabio and fists flew.

  Okay, fine, maybe running wasn't such a bad idea after all.

  People were freaking out all around us, pouring up the plaza steps and racing down the sidewalk. Even traffic had stopped. The cars that hadn't turned and taken off had been abandoned, engines still running, in the street.

  An angry shout just shy of a roar shook the ground as a fourth Pretty Boy stepped from the van.

  "Oh come on!" Like we weren't already outnumbered.

  He was, however, the first one I'd ever seen who wasn't pretty. Practically a walking rock, his skin rough and gravelly, a body almost as wide as it was tall, and all of it hard muscle. He lumbered into the fight like an avalanche.

  "Nice to meet you, Rocky."

  "Quip later." Libby grabbed my hand and dragged me away from the battling Pretty Boys. "Tactical retreat, now."

  "But--"

  "Move your ass!"

  I tugged back. "Four against two are lousy odds. What if they kill them?"

  "They're not easy to kill, but we are."

  I ran with her, approving her tactical retreat as soon as I figured out where we were headed. Morning Light Community Church, just a few hundred feet away.

  We stopped on the other side of the sign. It didn't feel any different from the street, but then we weren't undead spawn on holy ground.

  "What the hell is going on?" Libby asked, breathless even though the run wasn't that far.

  "Pretty Boy attack."

  "Where did--how--I don't...?"

  "It's okay, just breathe."

  She wiped the sweat off her upper lip.

  "This is going to make the news," I said, my heart still racing. Rude Dude had mad kung fu skills and Zack wasn't doing so well. I looked past them toward the van with the traitorous redhead. Handsome Vlad circled my helpful hottie--no, Daniel--and Fabio like a white panther. Even his stalking was gorgeous.

  Fabio didn't look so handsome anymore, his hair mussed and matted. Daniel wasn't moving so fast and he favored a leg.

  Fabio blurred and a fleshy thwack echoed. He flung Daniel to the ground near a javelina statue painted bright blue, pouncing on him a heartbeat later. Daniel shoved him off and drew the small, curved knife I'd grabbed days ago. He staggered to one knee, hiding the dark blade behind his leg.

  Fabio fell for it. He pounced and Daniel struck. Fabio staggered back, glowing from within, and then his muscle-bound body dissolved into a misty haze of chartreuse spray. No boom this time, no explosion of grit and green grime.

  That wasn't right. Why hadn't he exploded?

  Daniel crashed against the van and rolled into the street. Handsome Vlad was on him in seconds, fists blurring, feet kicking. Daniel balled up and defended himself, but tough as he was, even he couldn't take such punishment much longer.

  Zack cried out and collapsed. Rude Dude slung him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and trotted toward the van.

  "They need help," Libby said.

  "I know." But I had no idea how to give it. Silver worked on them, but electricity did not. Nor did hitting them with a car. Church bells rang and I snapped around. Libby and I started running at the same time.

  Great minds think alike.

  We burst through the door of the church. She dodged right, I dodged left. I snatched a vase of flowers off a table and flung the contents away. Sorry, God. People sitting in the pews turned, their shocked faces gaping, thankfully too surprised to tell me I couldn't do that in a church, young lady.

  Libby had found a decorative bowl, and was already heading for a birdbath-looking basin just past the lobby. A good thing, as I'd have taken forever to figure out where they kept the holy water. She dunked the bowl.

  One of the priests glanced over, did a double take, and started toward us.

  "Hurry, we're about to be busted."

  I dunked the vase the instant she was done.

  The angry shouts of both priests and parishioners chased us out the door. We outran the priests, but I had mixed feelings about them following us into potential danger. Bringing a priest to a vamp fight wasn't a bad idea, though.

  Libby and I raced as one, in sync with the craziest plan of all time.

  Daniel had managed to get back on his feet. As we closed on them, Rocky kicked him in the stomach. Handsome Vlad followed up with an elbow between the shoulder blades and knocked him back down.

  Almost in range.

  "Left!" I yelled.

  "Right," she answered.

  We flung a respectable amount of holy water on the Pretty Boys. I doused Handsome Vlad while she soaked Rocky. Blue sparks sizzled and smoke hissed. Their shrieks split the night like metal tearing.

  I darted forward and grabbed Daniel's arm. "Come--"

  Something hard and fast crashed into us and we both went flying.

  I hit the street beside Daniel. Handsome Vlad yanked him up, then tossed him away. He turned on me, his opal eyes wide and hungry. Tendrils of pale smoke curled off his still-wet skin.

  Libby drew her gun and fired three times in quick succession.

  Handsome Vlad jerked back and dropped to his knees, lightning arcing off him in ozone-scented tendrils. Chartreuse light seeped throu
gh three tightly grouped holes in his shirt and spread quickly across his chest. He pressed a hand against it and stared as if he'd never seen his own blood before.

  Maybe he hadn't.

  I rolled to the side and scrambled to my feet. Daniel hadn't moved, looking dazed and barely conscious.

  "Grab him," I said, ducking a flailing and sizzling Rocky and taking hold of Daniel's slightly damp and smoking arm. Libby grabbed the other and we hauled him off the sidewalk and toward the church. Music reverberated through the stone.

  "What if he self-combusts?" Libby asked, her face flushed.

  "If he sparks we leave him at the border."

  Handsome Vlad's and Rocky's shrieks faded to screams, and then snarls. A wall of wind closed down on us from behind, pressure thick as a wave.

  "Move move move!"

  We passed the Morning Light's sign, dragging a stumbling Daniel between us. He didn't burst into flames or show any signs of instant, divine death.

  "Is this good or bad?" Libby asked.

  "No clue." If being on church grounds didn't bother him, it wouldn't affect them either. "Maybe we need to be inside the church?"

  Another shriek, much closer now. The hair on the back of my neck quivered from the expelled breath.

  I tripped and we fell in a tangle of arms and legs.

  Handsome Vlad stopped at the edge of the grass. Pale green light leaked from the bullet holes in his chest, but he didn't act hurt in any way.

  "You must help me," he said, but it didn't sound like a request. I felt the urge to obey tug at me again.

  "Are you high? I'm not helping you with anything, you moron."

  He took another step and crossed the church's property line. Blue fire sparked and smoked around him. He shrieked again and jumped back.

  Holy ground. Check.

  No sparks on my guy.

  "I must have your blood," Handsome Vlad called.

  I dug my fingers into the ground under the church sign and flung a handful of pebbly dirt at him. It splattered across his face and he let out another shriek. He rubbed frantically at his freaky eyes and backed away, his green-shot gaze boring into mine.

  Shouts cut off whatever he was about to say next. Rocky frowned and tugged at Handsome Vlad's arm. I glanced over my shoulder. Four priests in robes were running toward us.

  "Here comes the cavalry."

  With a final, I-will-make-you-pay-for-this glare, the Pretty Boy twins blurred back to the van. Tires squealed a moment later and they were gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I'd seen a lot of weird in my life, but even I had no words for what had just happened. I sat on the gravel, clinging to Daniel's hand, and shared bewildered looks with Libby.

  "What the fuck?" she whispered. Her face was pale and sweaty, and a bit of red dirt smudged one cheek. I'm sure I looked no better.

  "New to me, too."

  That attack hadn't been a lone Pretty Boy ambushing a family on a dark road. That had been a coordinated attack by four Pretty Boys to grab me off the street.

  Four Pretty Boys, for little old me.

  If the good Pretty Boys hadn't been there... I shuddered.

  The priests were almost upon us, but I didn't spot a single worried expression or first aid kit on any of them.

  "They look pissed," Libby said softly. "Angry priests are bad."

  "It was just holy water. Can't they make more?" I let go of Daniel and rose. We could discuss this like--

  Blue sparks sizzled across his skin. He whimpered, his unfocused eyes flying open. We gasped. The priests jerked back as if they'd hit a wall.

  "Demon!" the oldest priest cried out, pointing a finger at us.

  I grabbed Daniel's hand again. The sparks vanished and he moaned.

  "Um, Grace?" Libby began.

  "Still no clue." Maybe it was like inviting a vampire into your home. Bringing him onto church grounds was okay as long as he had, oh, I don't know, permission or a divine day pass.

  The old priest yelled at us in a weird mix of what sounded like Spanish and Latin. Two of the others turned and ran back toward the church, while the last one rummaged through his robes and thrust a crucifix at us.

  "Must...go." Daniel struggled to speak. He kept his eyes and head down, avoiding the glare of the priests and the crucifix.

  "We need to get him out of here," I said, pulling him up. People were staring, and this many panicked priests couldn't be good for anyone. Libby helped me get him to his feet.

  "Monster!" the old priest shouted. "Defiler!"

  "He just saved our lives, you old coot."

  Libby cleared her throat. "Please don't yell at the priests. It's disrespectful."

  "Fine."

  We half-dragged Daniel down the block toward the hotel. People pointed and stared, and way too many cell phones swung in our direction.

  And froze.

  Libby's eyes widened as the world stopped around her. "How did--"

  "Can't hold...long," Daniel said, straining.

  I picked up the pace. "Move faster, Torres."

  We lugged Daniel to a sofa in the hotel lobby before his legs gave out and the world started moving again. People were still running all over and chattering like crazy, but no one looked at three tired people taking a breather on a plaid couch.

  "Are you all right?" I asked him. He was pale and bruised, his face sweaty. The fight and hitting the pause button on time must have taken a lot out of him. He'd fought for us like a badass out there, but he'd taken his own share of hits. Bad ones.

  "I'll heal. You?"

  "I'm fine."

  "I'm Daniel."

  "I know. Zack told me." I would have guessed something exotic and Goth, maybe Lucien or Erebos--a name befitting a vampire who'd turned to the side of Light. Though I supposed I could be overthinking it. For all I knew, he'd gone vamp in the 50s. He did have a James Dean bad boy thing going on. Throw a leather jacket on him and he'd be set.

  "Where's...Zack?" he asked, struggling to get the words out.

  "Rude Dude took him. He threw him in the van before they took off. I'm sorry we couldn't save him, too."

  Daniel's brow furrowed. "Who?"

  "Big guy with an attitude."

  He sighed and closed his eyes, sinking back onto the couch. His breathing sounded ragged, a little labored, though I wasn't about to put an ear to his chest to find out for sure. My throat didn't need to be that close.

  I glanced at Libby. She shook her head, still looking confused and worried. We were way out of our depth here, but wasn't this what I'd wanted my whole life? To find someone who could give me answers?

  Was it tacky to question a beat-up immortal being who just saved your life?

  "What do you need?" I was raised on the run, not in a barn.

  "Water."

  A glass water cooler sat on a table by the wall, next to the coffee Thermoses and tea bags. I filled a cup and brought it back. He nodded thanks and drank every drop.

  "Another?"

  I filled the cup twice more before he stopped looking like he was going to drop dead on us any second. He still looked wrung out, though.

  "Better?"

  "Yes, thank you."

  A complete sentence, no weak or breathy pauses. Standing and walking might still be a pipe dream, but talking didn't seem to tire him out anymore. A good thing for us, but if his speedy recovery was common to all Pretty Boys, we were in deeper trouble.

  Daniel glanced around the lobby as if just realizing where he was. "How did you evade...the others?"

  "Inspired creativity. Who is after me and why are they so obsessed with my blood?"

  His eyes widened the teeniest bit. That surprised him. Good to know. "How...?"

  "I pay attention. Are they drinking it?"

  "I have to go after Zack." He leaned forward, winced, and fell back down, pressing a hand to his ribs.

  "You can barely move, and your buddies could still be out there looking for us. The safest thing right now is to stick
together."

  Daniel shook his head, but he didn't try to move more than that. "You're not safe if he knows where you are."

  "Who is he? What does he want with my blood?"

  "You need to run," he said. "How do you feel about The Bahamas? Or Scandinavia?"

  Libby huffed and rolled her eyes. Not her usual level of sass, but getting there. "He's as bad as Cavanaugh."

  "Who's Cavanaugh?" Daniel asked.

  I crossed my arms. "Someone who sucks even worse than you do at giving straight answers. Come on," I cajoled. "We saved your life, you owe us."

  Daniel shook his head.

  I looked at Libby. "I was wrong. He's worse than Cavanaugh."

  Karma was real. Perfect. "Talk or we're out of here. I need to know where my father is. How I get him back. Why you're protecting me. I'll settle for just answers to the first two, but I'm running out of time to save him."

  He took my hand and covered it with both of his. His fingers trembled softly, almost a vibration under my skin. I should have felt the same itch of spiders, but I didn't. Maybe my warning signal didn't work with the Pretty Boys trying to help me. "Grace, you can't save him."

  I snatched my hand away. If only I could take back his words as easily. "You don't know that."

  "I don't know where he is."

  "I'm working on that."

  "I've been chasing them for decades and I still don't know where they are."

  "Bullshit. You found me, you can find him. We're close. I know we are or there wouldn't be so many of them."

  "Perhaps." He hesitated and looked away. "Kokabiel was here," he mumbled.

  "Koka-who?" I leaned forward. "Is he the one who took my father?"

  "Why won't you listen? Your father did, and it kept you safe for years."

  The truth of it stung. Dad wanted me to stay safe, to change my name and run, to live and let him go.

  Hang on a sec...I rewound the conversation. Chilled. Burned as Daniel's words sunk in. He knew Dad. Knew me.

  "You're the one who saved me and my father when I was little." Just like he'd come for me in the parking lot outside a dive bar in Florida. And come for me here in the desert when he had no idea I'd even be here.

  "Yes."

  "Why?"