“I meant no harm.” He sniffled.
Dash shook his head. “Deal with him however way you see fit, but do it later. We have a job to do, and it’s almost ten am. I don’t need to return you to the Red Veil burned and weak.”
His eyes met Finn’s. “If you were a Were, your testicles would be ripped from your sack and fed to pigs.”
Abigail laughed. “I’ll have to remember to share that tidbit with Mairé.” Her eyes narrowed and she tapped the black ledger with the ruler. “Where are the donors?”
“In their berths,” Finn replied. “Or still with their regulars.”
“Berths? What is this, a ship?” Dash asked.
“The building is a vintage landmark. We maintain the guise of a chic downtown hotel for appearance sake.” She gestured toward Finn. “It’s one of the reasons we keep a human proprietor.”
“And?”
“A century ago the building was a safe haven for sailors. We keep the rooms in the same fashion, with berth-like bunks for the resident donors. We also have donors who have retired from the lifestyle, but they still come when called.”
“Then I suppose Micah’s script when he met me at the door is the standard when humans call for reservations,” Dash said, impressed.
She nodded. “Yes, but we do allow humans and other supernatural species to stay from time to time. It’s good for business, and keeps our undercurrent out on the street without raising too much suspicion.”
“Other species?”
With a shrug, she waved absently toward the upstairs before picking up a small stack of unopened envelopes on Finn’s desk “The Fae and of course, blood witches.” She sorted through the mail. “Not the Harry Potter wannabes or those who fancy themselves mystical. I mean real witches, the ones whose families carry true magic in their blood.”
She grinned, showing more than a bit of fang, her eyes dilating with remembered pleasure. “Their kind is only accommodating when they need something from us, and their blood is a true delicacy in return.”
“Unlike Were blood,” he baited.
Her smile disappeared and she slipped off the desk to walk around and stand beside Finn, ignoring the little man’s obvious cringe. “Enough chat.” She opened the ledger with a muffled thud.
“We’ll deal with the house residents first.” She slid her eyes toward the sweaty little human. “Rouse them. All of them. Have everyone gather in the bar. I want every donor downstairs and ready for a spot check in ten minutes. Understood?”
He bobbed his head, pushing back on his chair with such force it was clear he wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and the vampire.
Abigail smirked at his obvious escape.
“Making friends and influencing people everywhere you go, huh?” Dash chuckled.
“I don’t need friends. Least of all among your kind.”
“My kind? Do I need to remind you why we’re on this little venture together?” Dash raised an eyebrow at her, watching as she fidgeted with the pages in the ledger. He squelched the smirk itching at the corner of his mouth. He made her nervous.
Inhaling, he raised an eyebrow, surprised at the unexpected trace in her scent. Nervous, yes. But also aroused. Abigail the vampire bitch queen was turned on, despite all her bravado. His cock thickened with the knowledge.
“And for the record,” he continued, “my world is just as full of the natural and unnatural as yours.”
She froze, semi-distracted by the bulge at the front of his pants. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me,” he replied, consciously not letting on he caught her checking out the goods. “You think we’re so different, but we’re not. Weres and vampires, Fae and witches—we all hide our true natures in one way or another. It’s what makes us the same, regardless of our differences.”
He moved around the desk and took the ruler from her hand, taking a moment to push a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s also what should bind us together, but it doesn’t.” He dropped his hand, his arm brushing her breast in the process.
She pushed him away, the reaction almost kneejerk. “Don’t touch me, dog! There is nothing about us or our worlds that is similar, and there is nothing that entices me to bind anything to you.”
Dash put his hands up. “Have it your way, Abigail. Keep telling yourself that. It won’t change the truth.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at her. “And scents don’t lie.” He paused. “Still, neither Sean nor Sébastien can say I didn’t try.”
“Try what?”
He sighed. “Forget it.”
She opened her mouth to retort, but the office door opened.
“They’re all assembled,” Finn interrupted, holding a bloodstained handkerchief to his throat.
“What’s all that?” Dash asked, pointing to the mess at the man’s neck.
“I had to disturb a few of our…our…members when gathering the donors. One was not quite finished and took the balance of his need out on me.”
Abigail burst out laughing. “Karma is a real bitch, isn’t she, Finny ole’ boy?”
She moved to the door with sudden speed and turned an icy glare toward Dash. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
5
“You’re infected,” Dash kept his face composed and his tone calm, but even so, he watched as confusion and then fear crossed the young woman’s face.
“Infected with what? How? When?” Her voice hitched.
“You have HepZ. A form of viral hepatitis. It’s a rare strain that attacks both humans and the paranormal. It’s a long story, but the good news is there’s a cure.”
“What do you mean Leah’s infected? This shadow house was cleared early last spring.” A young man complained, moving protectively to where the stunned girl stood. “A different set of wolves swept the entire place. Anyone with even a hint of disease was removed.”
“That’s right! We were told everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about.” Another added “What are you telling us now?”
Leah’s eyes flew to Abigail and then back to Dash, her words halting in her fear. “Does this mean I’ll be…be…changed?”
Abigail blew out a disgusted snort. “Of course not, you silly girl. Have you learned nothing in your time here? We’d sooner end your pathetic existence.”
The girl burst into tears and the first young man gathered her to his arms, shooting Dash a desperate look.
Dash raised both hands to try and diffuse the growing commotion. “There’s no need to cry, and no need for worry. No one is ending anyone.” He shot Abigail a dirty look before shifting his attention back to the terrified girl.
“Leah, once your body starts making antibodies on its own, you’ll be as good as new. The same goes for anyone else who becomes infected, but it does mean you probably spread the virus to whoever you’ve been with.”
Leah balked. “Been with? I haven’t been with anyone.”
Dash looked to Abigail who looked to Finn for explanation.
“Leah hasn’t been assigned to anyone yet. She’s new and still being screened,” the sweaty little man answered.
Abigail snarled and the room cringed. “Screened! You call letting an infected donor through our doors, screened?”
“Abigail—” Dash tried.
Her eyes flashed red. “This is none of your business, wolf. Just use that snout of yours to point out the infected lot and I’ll do the rest.”
“Really.” He laughed at her. “And what is it you think you can do besides terminate every infected member of this household?”
At his words the entire room panicked and he shook his head, hoping they understood he was simply making a point.
He held up his hand and continued, looking to calm their fears. “If donors are infected, then it follows so are the vampires. Are you prepared to destroy your own kind or are you going to shut up and listen for a change?”
She ignored him, instead turning again to Finn. “Was she infected when sh
e came to us?”
He shook his head. “No. Her test results are in her file.”
Abigail thought for a moment. “Have they been given sample doses of our blood to see how it affects them?” She gestured toward the gathered group. “You know we have no tolerance for addictive personalities, especially not in our shadow houses.”
Finn nodded. “Of course. That’s protocol with any new donor. It’s why Leah is still being screened.” He visibly flinched using the word again.
Abigail’s mouth opened, but she closed it again. She turned to Dash. “Well?”
He considered her. “Well, what? We thought we caught every case last spring, but this new outbreak means one of two things: either we missed a dormant strain or the entire virus has mutated. Based on the weak scent of disease in Leah’s blood, my assessment is she has a mild case, but the entire house needs to be quarantined, regardless.”
He shifted his eyes to Finn “I’m assuming the test samples fed to donors are a mixture of vampire and human blood in graduated strengths to ensure against addiction.”
“Yes. That’s exactly right,” Finn replied.
Dash exhaled. “Then I’ll need access to everything you have in storage, both the test sets and every bag of donor blood used for—” he hesitated trying to remember the term Sébastien used. “For sustenance.”
Finn nodded.
“In addition,” Dash furthered. “I’ll need access to every vampire who either donated or drank from the source.”
Abigail shook her head. “This is much more than anyone anticipated. More than even Sébastien anticipated, I’m sure. I’ll have to get permission from him before we can formally begin.”
“Of course. I’ll need to contact Sean, as well, and discuss how to proceed from here. I can’t very well detect the virus through sterile plastic. It’s impermeable.”
A dull hum rose from the donors and Finn looked to Abigail.
“Silence!” she yelled.
When the room quieted, she looked at each donor, her eyes moving from face to face. “No one is to enter or leave the premises until the wolves have done a full assessment of everyone. If you leave we will find you and bring you back, and whether or not you survive the return trip—” She shrugged, letting the full meaning behind her clipped words sink in.
“However, if you stay and cooperate, once this matter is cleared you will be given the choice to continue with us or move to a shadow house of your choosing or leave of your own free will. No harm will come to you if you decide to return to your previous lives.”
Abigail turned on her heel and stormed out of the bar, not waiting for a reaction.
“Abigail—”
She waved Dash off, turning the corner toward the office without a word.
He looked at the sets of eyes all focused on him. “Finn, I suggest you put in for supplies. I have no idea how long this assessment is going to take. Everyone needs to be evaluated and then inoculated, but I’m going to need all records, official or unofficial, of any contact anyone here has had with anyone else. Supernatural or human.”
Dash let his eyes travel among the group. The donors were every color, shape and size, all young, all beautiful, and most likely all sick. “I need you to be honest with me. If you switch hit lovers or met anyone on the sly, I need to know. I promise the information will stay with me and only me.”
Some were crying openly, others angry, but there was nothing left to say. It was what it was. He left the bar and headed to the office after Abigail.
The door was ajar and from just outside he heard her on the phone. She was doubtless talking to Sébastien. It was well past noon, and from the muffled yelling coming from the receiver, the master vampire was not a happy camper.
“No, sir… I know… Yes. I’ve got the situation well in hand. No, I don’t want Sean to send for more wolves. Dealing with this one is enough, and the other is missing in action with… What? No, please don’t, Sébastien.
“We should tell Dash and his feral brother to leave. Why? Because! I don’t understand why we need them at this point. We have oral antibodies stored with the blood in the vault. Yes. he gave me some excuse about dormant strains or mutations or something or other.
“What? No, not at all…I think it’s time to call these dogs on the uselessness of their so-called scenting abilities and bring in the cougars. Maybe the big cats can sense what the canines can’t. No, please…don’t say a word to the alpha until I get back to you. Yes, sir. I’ll call you tomorrow night.”
Cougars? She had to be kidding. Wolves have the keenest sense of smell of any mammal on Earth.
Dash pushed the door open and stalked in. “Are you kidding me? You couldn’t wait five minutes to call dear old dad and place blame on the wolves for another of your houses falling sick?”
“Dear old dad?” her eyes narrowed.
“Come on, Abigail. I know from Sean and Lily both that Sébastien changed you and then abandoned you to your own devices. It’s a pattern with most of the old ones. They don’t give a flying fuck who they kill or who they change. The undead are the worst deadbeat parents in the world.”
“That’s none of your business and it’s entirely beside the point,” she countered.
“And what exactly is the point?” Dash shot back. “That I and my wolf brethren are useless? Or are my ears as inadequate as my nose?”
She met him glare for glare. “No, your ears are in perfect working order, but you and your kind are lacking. What good is your alleged skill if you can’t detect the virus in our stored bagged blood?” She stood, hands clenched. “Useless!”
He moved with agile strength and pinned her against the desk. “I can tell you what I’m good at or maybe I should just show you.” He leaned in, his lips close. “I smell your need, Abigail. Despite your posturing, you’re scent is drenched with arousal. Fury, too, but more because you want me and you hate yourself for it.”
Dash inhaled. “If I reached between your legs you’d come in my hand, right here, right now. For such an icy bitch, your panties are soaked just from my words. You can’t help it. Just like you can’t help the hunger for my hard length against your curves.
“You think my sense of smell isn’t all that? Well, it’s telling me your need is deeper than just physical. There’s something in you that’s unfulfilled. A longing that’s laced with anger. Oh, yes. Deep anger.”
Dash slid one hand over her hip, resting his fingers on her silent ribcage. There was no heartbeat beneath his fingers. No warmth. Just tense, coiled muscles ready to strike.
“What happened to you, Abigail? Rémy filled me in a little at Sean and Lily’s wedding.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t stop. “This taboo between our races wasn’t always the case. In fact, we rather enjoyed each other until your kind went all superior.”
With a snarl, she lashed out again, shoving against his immovable chest. “Better superior, than feral! You think you know so much, wolf? Well, you don’t! Not everything that bulb in the middle of your face picks up is accurate. You think you know what makes me cream? You’ll need to get a lot closer than just a sniff, but you’ll have to get past my fangs first!”
Gathering all her preternatural strength, she pushed him away and stormed out. Dash let her leave, smirking at the bang from the front door.
Like Gehrig said. Let the games begin.
Abigail tightened the top lapel of her short cashmere coat. Gusts whipped across the Hudson, funneling from the choppy water down the streets off Twelfth Avenue. Rushing headlong into the street wasn’t the smartest decision considering the traffic at this time of day, but morning bright skies had turned overcast, and despite the wind, she was grateful for the reprieve from the sun.
She snorted to herself. Today sucked, and not in a good way, but at least Mother Nature was willing to play ball. She needed to walk and clear her head.
In the park across the street, autumn leaves swirled in tiny gold and
crimson tornadoes. She slowed to watch the mini whirlwinds, letting the blend of color calm her churning emotions before she continued down the street.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”
A sharp breath caught her unaware, and she stopped short of crashing into another pedestrian.
“Abigail?” the annoyed voice asked, the tone changing to surprise.
“Henry? I…I didn’t see you. I’m sorry,” she replied.
The flamboyant vampire clicked the tips of his fangs in a smug grin. “Clearly.”
She made a face at the snarky remark and his over-the-top appearance. Was he a vampire or a member of a gothic cosplay troupe? “Nice cape and cravat, dude. Is there an elder gathering in the city or are you auditioning for a part in Phantom of the Opera?”
“Amusing, as always, Abigail.” He sniffed. “However, the question begs, why are you rushing around the streets at this hour of the day? Are you lost or just afraid the sun will beat you to the punch?”
“I’m in no mood for your silly, competitive digs, Henry,” she shot back. “No one cares how old you are, especially not me. Not when my sire’s blood trumps this sorry weather and anything else snarky you could think to say.”
“Why so preoccupied, then?” He dipped his head to sniff the air close to her. “Ah…now I understand.”
“Understand what?”
“I heard the wolves were in town again.” He shot her a knowing look. “In fact, it seems they’re all over the city.” He gestured toward a storefront on the corner. “Even the sex trade has caught wolf fever.”
Abigail looked at him. Fever? Did he mean the virus? She followed his line of sight across from where they stood, and in the window of an adult novelty store was a large array of dildos. Front and center was an enormous phallus with a sign, “Let the Wolfman unleash your inner animal.”
Henry laughed at her disgusted exhale. “Immortality is much more fun if you let it ride, Abigail.” He winked.
The Red Veil Diaries (Volumes 1-4) Page 8
