Blood Judgment (Judgment Series)

by Nickie Asher

  “What are we going to do?” Vali sank his fingers into the sofa cushions to keep the others from seeing them shake.

  “First thing we have to do is report what we’ve learned.” Ashton clapped the laptop shut. “Nothing’s changed. We can lie down and wait to be victimized in whatever fashion they devise, or we can fight them. To the death if necessary.”

  He ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “But understand we’re facing something beyond what any of us expected. Our odds aren’t good.”

  “I’m not giving in,” Julian said.

  Slade took a deep breath. “I hate those bastards. I’m not quitting.”

  Vali swallowed hard. “I can’t do much, but I’ll do anything I can to help defeat those sons of bitches.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Ashton said. “You made the link.”

  Vali nodded, though Ashton would have made the connection if he’d been given the spreadsheet. Maybe Vali could do something to help, even if it was nothing more than keeping the place clean while the others fought the bastards.

  Ashton stood and paced about the room. “We’re going to have to come up with a strategy. And we’re going to have to recruit. Not right away, but eventually.”

  “This is impossible,” Vali said. “The odds were bad before we knew this. How can something like this be stopped?”

  “I don’t know if it can be stopped.” Ashton ran a hand through his hair. “But if we do nothing, we deserve what they give us.”

  “Agreed,” Slade said.

  “What about taking the books to the media,” Julian said.

  “Why bother?” Slade said. “No one would believe they were real. They would say we forged them.”

  Ashton flipped on the TV.

  “So what are we going to do about those bastards?” Slade scooped up the ferret and rubbed its head.

  “We’re not doing anything yet,” Ashton said. I’m going to report what we’ve learned and wait for orders. We can’t take the bastards out without major complications. And I’m not putting us in a position for repercussions from superiors.”

  “I didn’t know the Resistance worked like that,” Julian said.

  “You mean accountability and punishment?” Ashton said.

  “I thought every group kind of did their own thing.”

  “Most of the time, we do. But, since we were given orders to target those bastards, we are subject to following Resistance protocol.”

  “What if you don’t?”

  “Punishment can vary from being stripped of your recruits to being executed. Depending on the infraction.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “The Resistance is serious and if you want to be a candidate, you have to realize this isn’t a bunch of rogues working without cohesion.”

  Julian nodded. Shit. If he couldn’t follow the playbook he’d never be allowed in.

  “You do want in, don’t you?”

  Slade’s lips thinned, but he kept his mouth shut.

  “Yes.” No point in playing like he didn’t.

  Ashton nodded. “You aren’t there yet, but I’m mostly pleased with you so far.”

  “Mostly?”

  “You still tend to cowboy it too much. I can’t have that.”

  “I understand.” Boy, did he.

  “I think you’ll get there with a little time and training.”

  “Thanks.” Warmth spread through him. He would get there. All he had to do was control his impulsive nature.

  “I have something for you.” Ashton pulled out his wallet and took out five one-hundred dollar bills. He handed them to Julian. “We get paid, too. That’s for what you’ve done so far.”

  Julian stuffed the bills in his pocket. “Thanks, man.”

  “How are things with Saranna?”

  “Ashton!” Slade looked like someone had tweaked his nuts.

  Ashton quelled him with a glance.

  Julian shrugged. He didn’t want to go down that road, especially with Slade there. Though Saranna had permitted him in her bed and they’d shared limited intimacies before the Foster event—as he’d come to think of it—she hadn’t exactly invited him back.

  “You should give her something with bloodstones.” Ashton clicked on the Late News.

  “Bloodstones?” Julian quirked up an eyebrow.

  Ashton waved his hand. “Jasper. Vampires react to jasper.”

  “How so?”

  “They have some interesting properties. They turn red when you’re in a dangerous situation, plus they work a little special magic between mates. Give her green jasper and see what happens.”

  “Ashton,” Slade said. “Shut the fuck up, will you?”

  “No, they’re mates, might as well let them do it right. She could do a hell of a lot worse than Julian.”

  Julian stifled a grin of secret pleasure at the compliment.

  Ashton’s gaze fixed on the TV when the female news anchor began reporting a story. After a moment, he asked, “You guys want to watch some movies?”

  “Sure, if you can rip your eyes off that human female,” Julian said.

  Ashton’s expression made Julian snort laughter. “Admit it, man, you want to do her.”

  Ashton looked offended. “I watch the news to keep up with what’s happening across the country. Our people are suffering in every state. Some worse than others.”

  Julian couldn’t deny that and he wouldn’t try. But Ashton was mistaken if he thought it wasn’t obvious he had an enormous case of lust for the pretty news lady.

  THREE HOURS later, Saranna came in and quietly closed the door. Julian left the others and went to greet her. He stopped in shock. “Saranna? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m just tired.” She gave him a wan little smile that looked fake and strained.

  “Are you hungry? Can I fix you something?” He didn’t like the dark shadows under her eyes.

  “I’m starving, but I need you to take care of that upstairs. I’m sorry to ask while you’re still hurting, but I need it. I don’t feel so hot.”

  If she needed him, he would give her his last drop of blood. “I’m just a little sore. Come on.”

  “No you aren’t. You’re in pain. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “It’s okay. All that matters to me is that you are taken care of.” He took her hand and led her upstairs to the bedroom. “Want me to run a nice warm bath for you?”

  “No. I’m exhausted. I want to feed and sleep.”

  He grabbed the long tee she slept in. “Here, make yourself comfortable and let me take care of you.” He’d intentionally left most of his things in the bedroom on the hope of being invited back. He went to the dresser and rooted through his clothes until he found his favorite sweatpants. He stripped off his jeans and pulled on the sweats.

  Saranna turned her back and changed into the tee before burrowing into the bed and pulling up the thin blanket.

  He dimmed the bedside lamp to a soft glow and slid under the covers with her.

  “Wait,” she said, arranging pillows to cushion the headboard for him. He settled and held out his arms for her. “Come on, take what you need.”

  She pushed down the blanket and climbed into his arms, fitting against him like they were made for each other. Her skin brushed satin soft against his and triggered instant desire.

  He breathed in her lilac scent and the citrus shampoo she’d used earlier. “Drink,” he said.

  God, he wanted her back. He needed her. His life wasn’t the same without her.

  She nuzzled his neck, a soft touch of her lips before her fangs sank into his flesh.

  Julian groaned and his cock hardened, pushing against her stomach. She moaned, but gave no indication that she wanted him as anything but a blood source.

  His chest squeezed his heart and made it ache.

  After feeding slowly for a long while, she backed off the wound and licked his neck clean.

  “Thanks. I feel a little better.” She eased out of his arms and sett
led on the bed. A tremor ran through her body and she pulled the covers over her.

  “Can I stay?” He needed to be with her. “No sex. I just want to be with you.”

  She hesitated. “Yes.”

  Rearranging himself, he urged her to move closer. She curled into him, pushing her rump against his crotch, but made no move to initiate anything between them. He stifled a groan of frustration and slipped an arm around her. “You’re shaking?”

  “I can’t stop.”

  He swung his legs over the edge of the mattress. “I’m taking you to Jason.”

  “No. No. I just need rest.”

  “Are you sure?” He wasn’t sure of that. Not at all.

  “Yeah. I am.”

  He settled back, but he didn’t like it. Something was wrong. He stroked her shoulder and she tensed. “Shh, it’s okay. Relax.”

  After a while, her body loosened in his arms.

  JULIAN WAS still asleep when Saranna woke. She didn’t feel much better than she had the night before. At least she didn’t have to go to work.

  She didn’t know of anything going around the vampire community, but she must have come into contact with a bug somewhere. Probably from the club. Probably… Her stomach plummeted and nausea churned her insides.

  No! Dear God, no.

  It wasn’t possible.

  Was it?

  She touched her lower belly. Julian had mated with her countless times during her heat.

  He’s sterile, her mind screamed. And it had been her first heat. Females never conceived during their first heat.

  Or did they?

  She’d heard conception never occurred until the second heat, and sometimes not then, but was it true?

  What if he wasn’t sterile? What if the injection had failed?

  Oh, my God.

  His offspring was growing in her belly. That’s why she didn’t feel well. Why she was tired.

  Now she was forever tied to Julian. Even if they never worked out their problems, he would always be a presence in her life if she bore his child.

  She looked at Julian’s sleeping form with rising alarm. How would he react to this little bit of news? The scent of panic rose over the bed in such a thick cloud she feared it would wake him.

  How long before the scent of the pregnancy became noticeable? A month, maybe two?

  How could she have been so dumb? She should have made him use condoms regardless of the injection he’d been given. This was no time to bring offspring into the world. She cupped her belly in an instinctive gesture of protection. What if she had to raise her baby alone? What would she do?

  Her stomach rolled with a sickening sensation. “I’m sorry, Julian.” It came out in a hoarse whisper before she ran to the bathroom to throw up.

  JULIAN AWOKE in an empty bed. He’d hoped they would spend a little time together before he had to leave her. He needed to reassure himself she was all right.

  He slipped from the warm blankets and went downstairs.

  Vali sat on the sofa with a morose expression plastered across his face. Julian steered clear of him. Other than the droning TV, the downstairs was quiet. The others had gone out.

  He grabbed his jacket and slipped outside before Vali asked him to hang out. He wasn’t going to spend the evening watching movies and listening to Vali bitch about his life sucking.

  He headed toward downtown and, before long, he found himself outside Benaroya Hall. God, he still missed being in there.

  He bared his teeth in helpless fury. He was the best violinist in Seattle. Hell he was the best violinist on the west coast. And he would never play on stage again.

  It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t right.

  No doubt, Tommy had won the concertmaster position.

  The seat would have been his. Should have been his.

  He had no desire to be human again, but he desperately wanted the things he’d taken for granted and lost.

  Shame pecked him with a sharp beak.

  He had no right to wallow in self-pity considering what things had been like, and would be like, if he hadn’t been fortunate enough to meet Saranna and the others. Hell, he probably would have been killed if it weren’t for them.

  But not even shame was enough to blunt the pain of loss. He’d never grieved for the death of his human self and he didn’t think he could do it now. Maybe if he was able to grieve, some of the hurt and anger would be put in its grave and covered up with the sod of acceptance.

  He’d lost. Period.

  But he’d also gained.

  He was more than he ever would have been as a human. And he had the opportunity to do greater things than he would have as a musician. But it still hurt, though he would never admit it out loud. He identified himself as a musician, not a fighter. But now he had to fight and he would. He would even give his life if necessary. But, in his heart, he was and always would be a concert violinist.

  He spun and stalked around to the back of the building. Parking himself beside the damp wall, he settled in to wait for the musicians to come out. He still had a little unfinished business that had been put off too long already.

  Fifteen minutes later, the exodus began. He hung his head and let his hair fall in his face. There was only one person he wanted to recognize him. Though he was sure they all knew about him. Tommy wouldn’t have kept his mouth shut about something like that.

  He didn’t give a shit, but he didn’t want the stares and whispers. Not tonight.

  The stream of musicians tapered down to a trickle and stopped. Where the fuck was that no good Tommy? Had the bastard gone out the main entrance?

  He stepped away from the wall and stalked to the corner. Behind him, the door banged open. He whipped around. His ex-best friend had exited the building.

  Julian growled low in his throat, but he didn’t move on Tommy. Instead, he waited until Tommy crossed the street. He followed with the silence of a wraith.

  As he hoped, Tommy made the mistake of cutting through an alley.

  Julian slipped through the shadows and entered the waste container-lined passage where he no longer bothered with stealth.

  Tommy spun and shock flashed across his face. On its heels came fear.

  Julian showed his fangs.

  Tommy looked as if he was either constipated or choking on his tongue.

  Ignoring his mending but still painful wounds, Julian leapt and latched onto Tommy. Fury spurring him on, he slung Tommy against the damp wall between two AVI waste bins. Tommy grunted at the impact, but otherwise remained silent, though his eyes reflected terror. His violin case fell at his feet. Julian kicked it aside.

  “You know I should kill you. In the most painful way I can devise,” Julian said. “But I have a better idea.”

  Tommy shook his head and moaned.

  “I loved you like a brother and you sold me out to be murdered. For money! If I could turn you, put you in my shoes, I’d do it without thinking twice.” He shoved his forearm against Tommy’s throat hard enough to make him gasp for breath. “I can’t make you my vampire brother, but I can make you my blood brother. That might be even better, because your hatred is your weakness.”

  Julian brought his wrist to his mouth and bit hard.

  Tommy’s eyes bugged with comprehension.

  “Come, Tommy. Take my blood inside you and be my brother. Be one with the vampire race.” He shoved his bleeding wrist into Tommy’s gaping mouth.

  Tommy went spastic, but Julian leaned into him, trapping him. He choked on a mouthful of blood.

  Julian forced his wrist harder until Tommy had no choice but to swallow. He kept Tommy pinned for long minutes. When he pulled his arm free and stepped back, Tommy fell in a heap at his feet.

  Julian reined in the urge to kick him.

  Tommy shuddered and moaned.

  “Take care of yourself, brother.” Julian stalked out of the alley.

  Chapter Forty-three

  AFTER ANOTHER week to recuperate, Julian had one last night off and
a personal mission. Jewelry with jasper for Saranna.

  Over the last couple of days, she’d withdrawn. And though he didn’t know why, he had the feeling he’d done something wrong. He couldn’t love her the way she wanted, but she was still his mate and he wanted and needed her affection.

  Maybe green jasper, a mate’s gift, would cheer her up. She had to know how important she was to him. She needed something to make her feel better.

  If necessary, he would go to every pawn shop in Seattle to find something nice for her. The five hundred dollars Ashton had given him should be enough to buy something special.

  He left the house before the others awakened and hurried toward downtown. Once he reached the shops and businesses, he crossed the street and cut down a side street. He skidded to a halt.

  Two officers walked ahead of him. They made lots of hand gestures as if engrossed in an interesting conversation.

  He pulled the Beretta and clicked off the safety, but he didn’t fire on them. It wasn’t sporting to shoot them in the back and it went against his natural instincts of right and wrong.

  He backed away, intending to turn around and be on his way. He’d taken another step when his heel hit a discarded can. It clanged across the pavement with a loud clatter.

  The officers spun and, locking onto him like bloodhounds, went for their weapons.

  Julian raised the Beretta and squeezed off two rounds, dropping them in their tracks. The gunshots made his sensitive ears ring.

  He went to the bodies and knelt. Moving with haste, he patted them down and lifted their wallets. The second man had a leather binder with several sheets of folded paper inside.

  He pulled out the documents and thumbed through them.

  Holy fuck.

  He replaced the papers with shaking hands and lurched to his feet. He had to get out of there before anyone came to investigate the shooting.

  Clutching the binder under his arm, he pawed through the wallets as he walked. He counted five hundred dollars in one, and three hundred and twenty-five in the other. Thanks to the officers, he had intel and plenty of money to buy Saranna some quality jewelry.

  He stuffed the money in his pocket and threw the wallets through a sewer grate. As he walked, he pulled the papers out and skimmed them again.