Blood Will Tell

by Colleen S. Myers

  “Should be. That isn't reassuring, Alex,” Isa grumbled. She and Roke lay facing each other. Inches separated her face from Roke's and their bodies pressed against each other. She flushed at being so close. No matter how many times Jack cheated, she never did. It felt odd to lie this close to someone else. Ever since she lost her mom, she'd only ever let Jack close and ended up regretting it. It was easier to stay numb, not to feel, not to trust.

  Roke stared at her. His eyes sparked and drifted over her face. “You have freckles.”

  Isabelle kicked him. “No talking.”

  “But...”

  “Stop.”

  “Freckles. It is like cinnamon on top of hot chocolate.” She rolled her eyes and he chuckled. “I can hear when they're coming, you know.”

  “If you can hear them, they can hear you.”

  “Not with the engines. Relax. I won't let anything hurt you. That is why I'm here.”

  Her gaze flicked up to his. “Why are you doing this? How do you know my mother?”

  He hesitated. “When the cities were formed, I helped in the labs. I was a chemist. Your mother worked there as well. They took her there after they took her from you. They ensured her cooperation by keeping you safe. She wasn't allowed to see you, but she watched you. All the time, she watched the video feed as you grew up. When she could, she waited outside places where you couldn't see her just to catch a glimpse of you. They wouldn't let her near your wedding. We got the tapes and watched them together. I don't think you knew your rooms were bugged and monitored, did you?”

  “No.” She breathed out, trying not to feel violated. Also trying to remember everything she had ever done that could be used against her or embarrass her. Like that time she ran around in her undies. Oh god. She let her head fall against the box.

  “Jack knew. He was given a choice early on. You two bonded when you moved in the tenement. So they offered him a deal. If he helped control you, he would have power and pleasure. He put in the devices himself.” Roke's lip curled. His hand settled against her face. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over her mouth. “Shh now. They're coming.” His hand didn't move.

  She opened her mouth and he shook his head. The pad of his thumb rubbed back and forth across her lower lip. Tingles blossomed in the path of his finger and she swallowed, her mouth closing over his thumb inadvertently.

  His eyes darkened, watching her mouth. His thumb followed the movement, pulling down slightly, tugging.

  She bit the end of his finger. Warm skin and a faint pulse, salty and real. Again, she was struck by what she thought it would be like to be near a vampire and the reality of it. He seemed so... normal. Like a man. But he wasn't a man, he was a vampire. She needed to remember that.

  His gaze followed her, tender in the darkness. Unnecessary breath drifted across her face and his hand shook against her cheek.

  The heavy metal door squealed on its hinges as it opened. They both froze.

  “This is the body room.” Alex’s voice. “We're taking them down to New Orleans after a quick stop in Louisville.”

  “All the bodies are appropriately drained and tagged?” a bored male voice asked.

  “Yes, you have the paperwork in your hand right there, sir,” Alex replied.

  Paper shuffled. “Well, everything looks in order. Let's see the boxes.”

  Alex groaned, and boxes skidded along the floor. Nails squeaked. A thud sounded.

  “This one looks clear.” Another voice, this one younger.

  “The others,” the first man said.

  More squeaks and thuds sounded. When their box shifted, Roke's hand moved to cover her mouth. They were on the bottom, so the inspectors didn't need to lift them, just move around the other boxes to see in better. The weight would have given them away.

  A sword thumped between them. Without Roke's hand there, she would have screamed. As it was, the blade almost nicked him. Her panicked eyes met his. He shook his head. The sword withdrew. She breathed deep, closing her eyes.

  “Dead,” the young one said again. Thin, clear liquid leaked down from the body above them. Not blood but— Oh god, the smell was awful. A thick rancid taste flooded her mouth. She absolutely could not vomit.

  Alex's tone suggested he was angry. “Are you going to cut up all my wares? If so, this is going to take a long time because I have a large cargo. Let's get this show on the road, shall we?”

  “Mr. Bodry, I would urge you to keep your comments to yourself. You are here at the request of the clan, but that doesn't mean I have to put up with your shit.”

  A snort. “Like hell. You absolutely must put up with my shit if your precious masters want their little luxuries. They don't run the waters. I do... Remember that.”

  A growl. More thuds.

  Dying in a coffin would suck, convenient, but sucky none the less. She closed her eyes and her stomach settled. Roke had plugged the hole above them with his hand, no more drip. Breathing through her mouth helped.

  Feet shuffled and the door slammed. Voices faded down the hallway. Roke shook his head at her again when she went to open her mouth. “Not yet,” he mouthed at her.

  Several tense moments later, he whispered, “Pocket.”

  She narrowed her eyes and lifted her shoulders. His hip bumped hers. “Pocket,” he mouthed again.

  Her hand slid along his thigh. A grunt sounded from him. She looked up and stopped. “Pocket.” Nodding, she continued. Her hand caught the edge of his pocket and reached in, wiggling. He closed his eyes. Nothing.

  “Other one,” he mouthed.

  Shaking her head, she moved her other hand. It tingled from lying on it. Flicking it, she reached into his other pocket as her prior hand slipped along his thigh. Her fingers found a handkerchief. A handkerchief, really? All this for a cloth? She glared at him and pulled out her hand. Her elbow slammed into the box and they both froze.

  Heart racing, she waited. His eyes remained closed; she could practically see him listening. Green eyes popped opened. Funny, one of the random beams of light bathed his face in golden light and her breath caught. His eyes were pure green with just a few tiny flecks of gold. He had a few laugh lines around eyes, precious few. The scar on his forehead pulled up his eyebrow slightly, making his expression always somewhat inquiring. His jaw was smooth and his lips looked so soft. His pupils blew wide as he focused on her, head tilting. He leaned forward, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. His breath fanned across her face even though he had no need to breathe. Was he going to kiss her? What would that be like?

  Hands slammed down on top of their boxes making her jump.

  Alex's voice again. “You two okay in there? I was worried when they pierced the coffin, but there wasn't any blood. They would have been on you like piranha.”

  The engines had started back on full. They hadn't noticed. Isabelle cleared her throat and glanced up.

  Roke still kept his hand over the hole. “We're fine. Just get us out of here.” When Alex opened the compartment, the light almost seemed too bright after the darkness. Roke got out with his typical grace. He kept his hand on the hole, readjusting his position. Once up, he kicked Isa. Nice.

  She wiggled out through the thick liquid. Gagging, she got out just in time to lean out of the box and vomit.

  Alex jumped back. “Oh gross, cupcake. You think I'm kissing that mouth until you brush your teeth, you're wrong.”

  Roke growled. “You aren't kissing her at all.” As he bent down and rubbed her back, he said, “Pocket.”

  Her face flamed as he handed her the handkerchief.

  Chapter Eight

  Gods, the smell. It was awful, and it clung to her like an oily sheen. “I need a bath.”

  Alex lifted his chin at one of his men. They hurried out into the hall.

  She stood up and tried not to swallow or inhale through her nose. Roke held his hand out. Their skin touched and warmth filled her. Small things added up. She found herself looking at him differently. Maybe vampires were not
all bad.

  They followed Alex to the cabin.

  She was duly impressed when she saw a bucket filled with steaming hot water steaming and new clothes laid out on the bed. That was service. Roke halted at the door. Alex slammed into Roke. He pushed back against him. “Let her bathe.”

  “What, we don't get to watch?” Alex asked.

  “No. You don't get to watch.” Roke shoved Alex back, who tried to peep over his shoulder. Like Roke would let him stay.

  “Okay fine.” Alex's grumbling followed Roke down the hall.

  Alone at last, Isabelle sighed. Since the moment on the docks, she hadn't had a moment to herself to really process what was going on. Hell, she didn't know precisely what was going on. She slid her jeans and t-shirt off. Alex had them lay out some khakis and a tank top for her, probably from another crew. With the temps in the eighties and having been bathed in corpse juice, the gesture was appreciated.

  She grabbed a washcloth and began to bath starting at her feet, all the way up to her hair. There wasn’t enough water to wash her hair. Too bad. Not a scratch on her as well despite the day she had. That was because of Roke. He saved her for whatever reasons. They’d set her up for Jack’s death. Why couldn't she get Jack out of her head?

  He had been her savior and her downfall all in one pretty package. He used to laugh so damn much. At everything. Nothing was off limits. Right after they married, they would lay in bed for hours and just talk. Jack never tired of hearing what she thought, or so she believed. He called her gatito, kitten. For a few shining moments, she thought the cities weren't that bad. If she had Jack, she could be content. Isn't that what everybody wanted, someone of their very own to love and cherish? And the sex. Amazing. Or at least she thought so. Since he strayed, probably not so good for him. Tears burned in her eyes. His naked body, neck ravaged, flashed behind her eyelids. Roke said Jack put in cameras. That he had betrayed her from the get-go...probably true. What went wrong?

  She remembered playing in the hallways. They did everything together after that first day. She'd wake up and head down to his apartment with his parents. Mrs. Jenkins always had breakfast waiting. They had rations, but she made extra for her. At the time, she thought Jack ate less so she had something to eat, but that was most likely wishful thinking. The rest of the day, she spent working with everyone else. After the Madness, well, schools closed.

  Cattle didn't need a full education, after all. It angered her mother, and she wasn’t about to let her daughter lose out on learning. Every night, even though it wasn't encouraged, Rosa would have her read. She wanted her to follow in her mother’s footsteps. Her literature skills sucked, but Isabelle could name all the bacteria and their classes. She knew most viral designations. She also liked to think she was a computer guru.

  Computers. Information technology. That was the job assigned to her after the wall was built and the cattle reassigned. She handled data reconstruction and recovery for the clan. How many times had she been tempted to look for information on their system? Hell, she helped design the system. She could have slipped in and out without detection. She knew she could have. But any attention she garnered was bad attention. Everyone knew what happened to dissenters. They were cast out and/or killed. Ironically enough, here she was trying to escape into the exact wilderness she feared so long ago.

  She sighed and washed her face. After she was finished, her skin was rosy and clean. She brushed her hair and dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed. What would she do now? Was her mother alive like Roke said? Against her own wishes she found herself believing him, but anger stirred. No matter the excuse, her mother could have contacted her, should have contacted her. Let her know she wasn't dead. Maybe then she wouldn't have been so alone. Maybe then everything Jack did wouldn't have hurt so much.

  Roke opened the door slightly. “You decent?”

  “Yeah,” she rasped, pulling her legs up to rest her head on her knee.

  He walked in slowly. Like her, he had changed. Ha, they matched. He wore cargo pants and a t-shirt. The material clung just enough to illustrate his six-pack. His palms slid down his sides. He sat next to her on the bed. An arm drew her close to his side. “You okay?”

  She leaned on his shoulder. “I don't know.”

  Roke turned and kissed her head. “I'm sorry.”

  “About what, stealing me away? I wanted to leave anyway. You got me out. I wouldn’t have been able to get out on my own. I'm not stupid, I know that. “

  His hand gently caressed her back, slipping under his hand to her neck. “About Jack, about dropping your mother being alive on you.”

  Isabelle turned to him, intent. “Tell me about my mother.”

  He hesitated. “I can tell you some of the story, but not all. Like I said, it’s not my story to tell.”

  “You got to spend time with her, though, in the labs you said.”

  Nodding, he answered. “Yes, my job was there initially. Then I was made a guard. I spent my days in the labs or training.”

  “So you weren’t a simple lower?”

  “Lowers are not simple. It is just a designation. Anyone below the age of one hundred is considered a lower. Unless they are a newly made. But there are distinctions within the designation. If you were made on purpose, you had more status. I was made by accident, but one of the elders took a shine to me. So yes, I had more status than most lowers.”

  “It’s almost like a caste system then?”

  “Pretty much identical. Some of the elders are old enough to remember those times. There are uppers, lowers, newly made, clan elders, clan dams, clan leaders, council members. There are a lot of different kinds of vampires.”

  We were getting off track. “What does that have to do with my mother?”

  “Well they had her working on the Inmortalus virus. They wanted to see if it could be strengthened. For years, people studied it. What did it do? Why were some vampires stronger than others? Why did some people get gifts but others didn't? They kept a crop of minds working on it. After everything that happened after the Madness and so much death, a lot of that knowledge was lost. To preserve what they had, they rounded everyone up. Food and talent. Your mom is exceptionally brilliant woman. She was also...” His words trailed off.

  “Also, what?”

  Clearing his throat, he continued. “Let’s just say she, and by extension, you, are special. Even with the loss of resources, in the past five years, they made great strides in understanding the virus, mainly due to your mother. They had other researchers working. Geneticists, doctors. Her work shined. A little too much. She attracted a lot of attention. The Romeran clan, they are not the strongest clan. Far from it. When such splendid results came out from here, it attracted undue attention from the wrong people. The European clans wanted her, and they were going to get her. But she couldn't bear being separated from you.”

  He gazed into her eyes, his expression earnest. “At least here she could see the feeds and if you truly needed her, she could get to you. Overseas, she couldn't, so she schemed. She hadn't just been working on the virus. She mutated other viruses; she made compounds based on what she knew of vampire physiology that could hurt us. They never guessed at her secondary research until she disappeared while being transferred to her new masters. I don't know how she did it, but she contacted me several months after she was gone. She hacked the system. A skill she attributes to you. We both used to watch you. You were close to my age. She used to tell such stories. Rosa loved you more than anything.”

  “You seem to care about her very much.” Her eyes dropped to the floor.

  “I do…” He laughed and tilted her chin up “Oh no, not Rosa, she was like a mother to me. The one person in the world who was kind to me. The vampire clans are not friendly places. And I loved seeing how much she loved you and wished it for myself. My own mother sold me to the vampires when it became known I had the marker.

  “Before everything, the vampires had their own little communities, you know. Clan hom
es up in the mountains or other secluded spots with strictly regulated populations. Human Servants around to take care of them night and day, help them get blood, feed. I grew up in one of those communes and I never felt safe.”

  Isa’s heart ached for young Roke, but… “How old are you?”

  “Sixty-five. Right when science got going and the vampires started identifying the marker.”

  She blinked and looked him over. “You don’t look a day older than twenty, twenty-five.”

  “A benefit of being a vampire.” He smiled and leaned back. Patted the pillow next to him. “How you doing?” he said in a horrible Joey impression from Friends. Awful. His smile grew at her perplexed expression.

  Her thoughts scattered. Jack's favorite impression was Joey. Used to do it all the time and drive her freaking crazy. Said he could get any woman he wanted and proved it many times. Sadness tugged her down and she pulled back.

  He brushed a hand down her face as a tear streaked down. “I’m sorry for making you sad.”

  “No. No. Just remembering. Tell me more about my mom.”

  “I think the rest of the talk should wait until you get more sleep.”

  Isabelle glanced at him. “Are you really sleeping in here with me?”

  “I’m with you till the end.”

  Huh. “That’s a funny way to put it.”

  She gave him the stink eye.

  He batted his eyelashes.

  She pointed to the floor.

  He batted his eyelashes more but when she wouldn’t budge on the matter he conceded “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “Want to join me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, son.”

  “What?”

  “Did you never watch the show Psych?”

  “No. What’s that?”

  She grinned. “It was my dad’s favorite show. If we ever have the chance to get to a computer or TV, I’ll show you.”