Half-Blood Secrets: A Paranormal Series (Half-Bloods Book 2)

by Natasha Brown

  The disjointed movement evolved into fluid speed when he had fully transformed into the wild cat. Deane pressed his paws into the earth and flexed his muscles, catapulting him past the moat where Julian was stumbling over the cement wall. Deane didn’t slow as he made for the opening in the growth of trees and bushes.

  Ahead of him, Dolan looked over his shoulder at Deane and dove under the car just as he reached the driveway. When Deane neared the SUV, he noticed a body on the ground near the back of the vehicle. Blond hair splayed out from a woman’s still body. Verity. He rushed to her side and lowered his muzzle to her chest. The gentle rise and fall of her ribcage told him she was alive.

  Deane turned to sniff the place Dolan had disappeared. Then he raised his jaw to stare at his striped reflection in the SUV’s shiny paint, and he let loose a rumbling roar. He raised up on his hind legs, pressing his forepaws onto the side of the car. Muffled shouts came from within. It was a voice he recognized well.

  Deane tried looking through the tinted glass just as he heard a door open from the opposite side. The light revealed Dolan climbing in before the door slammed shut. The tires spun and lurched forward, kicking up rocks.

  Deane’s heart raced. Fear gripped his soul as he chased after. The SUV turned off from the long driveway onto the highway, nearly hitting another car. Deane pressed his paws against the pavement, racing to follow the vampires. The vehicle picked up speed as he began to lose his burst of power, and they pulled away.

  Oncoming traffic screeched to a halt and started honking, but he barely heard it. It was only when the SUV disappeared on the horizon that he finally stopped. And he knew in his heart that he’d failed at protecting the one who’d needed it most. Again.

  Thirteen

  Deane sat on the front porch steps in shock, wearing a pair of Julian’s shorts. Birds were chirping from the trees, and the wind was rustling the leaves and fronds as if nothing was wrong. But it was.

  Riley was gone. Taken by the vampires. Proof he was incompetent as a father figure. He’d failed yet again to keep those in his charge safe.

  At the other end of the porch, a doctor from the Miami lodge was tending to Georgina’s injuries. Her eyes were empty of emotion as she slouched on the wicker sofa and pressed an ice pack to her swollen cheek. They’d tried to treat Deane, but he’d waved them away. He didn’t care what his face looked like or that he could barely see out of one eye.

  Cruz breezed outside, followed by his cleanup crew, who were carrying a body bag. The Miami lodge leader sighed heavily and went to sit beside Georgina. “He was a good man and a great enforcer. He will not be forgotten.”

  Deane eyed the people carrying away Beck’s body, braced his elbows on his knees and clenched his jaw.

  “At least I got one of them.” Georgina’s voice was filled with spite and venom. She looked over the porch at the crew who were loading the dead vampire into a van. “He dropped to the ground like a bag of rocks. Michael, I think they called him.”

  Cruz cupped his hands together and nodded without a word.

  “A rock to the temple,” Georgina mumbled. “The light went out in his eyes.”

  Deane rose to his feet and went down the porch steps. He needed to call Alaric to tell him what had happened. There wasn’t time to waste. Barefoot, he went across the parking lot, which was now filled with cars, to the entrance of TailGators. He made his way to the gator enclosure at the far end of the property and looked for his phone.

  He peered into the gator enclosure. Julian’s “girls” were sunning themselves in the water, floating innocently, yet he felt their eyes on him. Deane lifted the latch to the gate and went inside. Shreds of his clothing had been dragged into the pond and were submerged at the bottom. A gleam caught his attention from the sand, and he went to pick up his phone.

  Deane sighed and dialed Alaric’s number as he exited the gator’s home.

  “What’s up?” the Denver leader answered.

  Deane blurted, “Riley was taken by the vampires.”

  Silence echoed back.

  Deane rushed to explain what happened, “Verity and Julian’s family came to retrieve them. A fight ensued. One of Cruz’s enforcers was killed, along with one of the vampires.”

  “But what about our blood-suckers? Verity and Julian?” Alaric’s voice was strained. “Are they available to talk? The Grand Consul is expecting to hear from them.”

  “Aye, they’re safe.” Deane looked up at the clouds in the sky through the palms. “Verity’s recovering from a blow to the head.”

  Alaric breathed out. “Thank God.”

  Deane shared in the relief that Verity and Julian were safe, although he was confident that wasn’t Alaric’s concern. His agitation roiled to the surface. “Did ye hear me when I said Riley was kidnapped?”

  Alaric ignored the question. “Are the blood-suckers alert enough to speak to the Grand Consul? It should be any time now.”

  Alaric’s singular focus only pissed off Deane even more. He held the phone away from his ear and yelled at the receiver, “I am responsible for that boy. My foster son was taken. What are we going to do about gettin’ him back?”

  “Listen up,” Alaric’s voice fired back. “I can’t risk triggering a war going after Riley. It’s up to the Grand Consul now.”

  Deane put the phone back to his ear and said through clenched teeth, “I recall ye had a wee bit of a different attitude when it was yer child who was abducted.”

  “That was under different circumstances, Deane, and you know it.” Alaric’s tone was maddeningly calm. “That was at the beginning of everything. Now we’re at an entirely different point with all of this. It would be improper to act now that the Grand Consul’s involved.”

  “But I swore to his mum I’d protect him. I swore to her, the government and myself. I won’t let that lad down—he needs me.” Riley had gone through so many transitions and so much trauma over the last weeks, Deane hated to imagine how he’d fare under these new circumstances.

  “We’ve known each other a long time—I consider us friends,” Alaric answered. “You were down on your luck when I met you, and I gave you a place to belong. The Society gave you something to live for. Gave you purpose. I’ve never known a better enforcer than you. But the time’s come when I need your help. I need you, Deane. I value the Consul, and they need my wisdom and knowledge. If I am to become an elected representative who has a voice in our future, I will need you by my side.”

  Deane closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. It was true, he owed Alaric a lot. The man had helped him when he was at his lowest, and they’d known each other for most of his life. He’d considered him a friend. Deane tried to stay calm, but the amount of anger and frustration pumping through his system was making him shake.

  Apparently unaware of the turmoil on the other end of the line, Alaric continued without getting an answer from Deane, “I will call Cruz when the Grand Consul’s ready to speak to the blood-suckers. Stay tuned.”

  The line went dead, and Deane was left staring at the screen. He clamped his fingers around his phone and roared so loudly, the birds went silent. A series of heavily accented swear words filled the air as Deane rocked his head back. For the first time since he’d joined the Genus Society, he questioned his loyalties.

  Emery had just finished bandaging up Verity’s ankle and was sitting on the piano bench while Julian poured some club soda into a glass for her. Verity had regained consciousness with a wicked headache, lying on the driveway with her brother staring down at her. She remembered the events leading up to the point Opal hit her on the temple with the chair leg but couldn’t recall how she’d come to be deposited on the driveway.

  “Is Riley okay?” she asked once again. Everyone was avoiding eye contact.

  She could hear the voices downstairs and understood the Genus Society had sent a crew over to handle the situation. While Julian had led her upstairs, she’d seen the crumpled form of the wolf and the bloodstain on the rug. No
one had to tell her Beck was dead. The image of Opal pressed to his furry neck flashed in her thoughts. He’d died protecting her from being taken. Guilt filled her heart as she took a shaky breath.

  Julian approached with a glass of bubbly soda and handed it to her. He caught Emery’s eye and dropped his focus to the floor. She didn’t like this. Something was wrong. Beyond the fact that Beck was dead.

  Footsteps came from the stairwell and hallway. She looked up and found Deane standing in the threshold, wearing only a pair of shorts. His dark features were grim, and her stomach dropped, making her feel sick. Tears traced down her cheeks. “Just tell me. Is he dead?”

  Deane addressed his partner. “Why don’t ye leave us? Georgina could use some company, I think.”

  Emery nodded and got up. She left the room, casting a sympathetic frown at Verity before she went. Julian sat down on a padded chair, clasping his hands together and staring at his linked fingers. Deane joined her on the settee. His brown eyes were cloudy and morose.

  Verity swallowed and wiped away her tears. She needed to be strong. She reached out and clasped his hand in hers. “I’m ready.”

  “They took him,” he said hollowly.

  The words filtered in, and she sought clarification. “Is he alive?”

  Deane shrugged. “As far as I know.”

  She sighed in relief and looked at her brother’s scuffed-up cheeks. Julian took a shuddering breath. “If I had learned how to protect myself, then maybe I could have kept Riley safe. I tried my best…”

  “It’s not yer fault, it’s mine.” Deane’s face was twisted with grief. “I’m an enforcer—I’m trained for this. I should have done more—better. Maybe if I’d shifted sooner.”

  There was no doubt in Verity’s mind how much the shifter cared for her nephew in that moment. It was clear. They were unified in their love for Riley.

  Julian got up and dragged his fingers through his hair. “If I hadn’t gone into the enclosure—”

  “Stop,” Verity said. “It’s Lycos’s fault. We can’t blame ourselves.”

  As if he hadn’t heard her, Deane mumbled, “They never should have let me foster him. He would have been cared for better with someone else.”

  Verity stared at her brother until he met her eyes. “Give us a minute?”

  He nodded and left the room in silence.

  She gave Deane’s hand a squeeze, drawing his attention back to her. “I wouldn’t have thought a shifter would be able to care for a vampire like you have. But it’s clear how serious you are about providing for him.”

  “Ye can have good intentions but be bad at the follow-through.” Deane’s expression was hardened. “I wasn’t meant to be a father.”

  “How can you say that?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Ye don’t know all there is to know about me. It was my fault my wife and unborn baby died. I can still smell the smoke in my nose when I think about them. It follows me wherever I go.”

  Deane freed his hand from hers to drop his forehead against his palms and stare down at the floor. “If I’d just listened to Kristie and looked for a respectable job, but I liked fightin’. I liked the roar of the crowd, the smell of sweat and blood in the air and the feel of cash in my hand. It was my damned pugnacious instincts that led me to the ring. My manager told me to take my competitor out of the running, so I did. Did a right good job of it, paralyzing the man from the waist down. Though I knew it was wrong, I did what I was told. And because I did as I was told, our apartment was lit aflame by the ruined boxer’s syndicate while I was out drinking in celebration of my win. So pleased was I to have that cash in my hand until I returned to the charcoal remains of my home. Damned fool, I was.”

  Verity stared at the Deane’s solemn profile and felt the pain and guilt rolling off him. She laid her hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Aye.” He turned to meet her eyes. “But not as sorry as Kristie must’ve been marrying a fool like me.”

  Verity didn’t know what to say in response. He’d been carrying around his guilt and angst for so long, it had become a part of him. The way he saw himself was nothing like how she perceived him. He’d clearly grown from his mistakes and cared deeply about being an honorable man. “You’re no fool. You’re principled and rational, and together we’ll figure out a way to get Riley back.”

  Deane stood with clenched fists and pointed to the horizon out the window. “Watching that damned car drive away was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Everything inside of me is telling me to go after them, to get Riley back, but I’ve been told to stay put, to let a bunch of people I don’t know decide his fate.”

  “Who?” she frowned, beginning to grow more anxious.

  “The Grand Consul, Society leaders from around the world, are meeting now to discuss yer kind’s existence.” Deane glanced at the clock on the wall. “They should be calling anytime to speak to ye and yer brother.”

  No sooner had he said so than Julian appeared in the doorway with Cruz beside him. She could tell her brother was concerned. His brows were furrowed the way they looked when he was thinking about all the ways things could go wrong.

  Cruz cleared his throat and took a step into the lounge with a tablet in his hands. He touched the screen and directed his comment to the enforcer. “Sorry, Deane, but I’ve got Consul Beaumont here. They’re ready to speak to Julian and Verity—privately.”

  Deane frowned and stood up, catching her wrist with his fingers. He cast a sideways glance at Verity, which made her pulse quicken. Before he walked away, he mumbled, “Make sure ye have assurances that ye will be protected if ye answer all their questions. Look after yerselves—no one else will.”

  Julian’s brown eyes watched him walk past, then settled on Verity. She took a deep breath, feeling herself getting backed into a corner. It had been her idea to approach the shifters to see if they could come to an understanding, a peaceful coexistence. She hoped she hadn’t been naïve to think it was possible.

  Cruz arched his brow at her. “You ready?”

  She inhaled deeply and let the air from her lungs slowly. Julian took his place beside her on the settee and held her hand. She didn’t want him to worry. They might be waist-deep in trouble at the moment, but the only way through was forward. Verity offered her brother a reassuring smile. “We’re ready.”

  The Miami Genus Society leader pressed his finger to the screen, holding the tablet before him, and spoke aloud. “Hello, Consul Beaumont?”

  A man’s voice echoed through the speaker. “Yes, we’re here. Are the blood-suckers with you?”

  Cruz looked at them. “Yes, we’re in a secured room.”

  “Good,” the man responded. “Please leave us in privacy so the Consul may speak with them.”

  “Of course, sir.” Cruz handed them the tablet and went to the door, closing it behind him.

  Verity stared at the screen and was amazed to see a room filled with faces. There had to be nearly two hundred people sitting before gold placards, labeling names and nations. Her heart raced until she took a deep breath and closed her eyes to collect herself. The Genus Society was larger and more organized than she’d expected. She cleared her throat. “Hello, my name is Verity Blackwood, and I am a vampire.”

  Murmurs filled the room, and Verity noticed a middle-aged man dressed in a suit approach the camera. “I am pleased to meet you, Verity. My name is Consul Beaumont, and I represent the United States in the Grand Consul for the Genus Society. I am not alone, as you can see. I am joined with other Consul men and women from across the world. Who do you have with you?”

  Her brother squeezed her hand before answering, “My name is Julian Vega.”

  Consul Beaumont raised his dark brow. “Are you a blood-sucker as well?”

  Verity didn’t know who’d coined the term blood-sucker, but she didn’t like it. She could tell Julian didn’t like it either as he answered with restraint, “I am a vampire, yes.”

  “I am t
old you’re related?”

  It was Verity who addressed the question this time. “Julian is my little brother.”

  Consul Beaumont tilted his head and pressed his fingers together. “With such different names, is it by blood or choice you call him your brother?”

  She sighed. “We share the same father, but it was our mothers who named us.”

  Consul Beaumont was quick to fire off another question from a sheet of paper he was holding. “Are all vampires related? How many are there?”

  Verity shared an uneasy look with her brother before leaning forward, recalling Deane’s departing advice. “My brother and I cannot answer any further questions until we are given certain assurances.”

  Voices broke out into a cacophony of noise. She reminded herself that their house was filled with Society members, and if they wanted to, they could do whatever they wanted to with Julian and herself. The only thing that kept that from happening was the information and knowledge they were offering in exchange for their freedom and safety.

  The people seated in the room on the other end of the video conference spoke to one another with animation until Consul Beaumont turned his back to the camera and requested the delegates quiet down. He then faced Verity and Julian once again to question, “What assurances?”

  She took a deep breath before answering, “My brother and I wish to live in peace. We have no part in the conflict with your kind. We want our freedom and to be safe from retaliation from the Society as well as from our family. And if we answer your questions, we don’t want the information used for the sole purpose of slaughtering our kin.”

  A woman’s accented voice rose from the buzz of conversations. “How is it worth the risk if we cannot use the knowledge to neutralize the threat?”