Blue Blooded: Jessica McClain Book 6

by Amanda Carlson

  Trying to outsmart a powerful seer sounded a little more than tricky. “You mean like we did with the wendigos?” I asked. By changing my mind for a split second and going with my heart instead of my rational brain, I’d managed to reverse the outcome of what could’ve been a horrific death for all of us, not to mention an innocent town full of humans.

  “In simple terms, yes,” he agreed. “But this will be much more complex than defeating a pack of flesh-eating zombies. It will take finesse.”

  I coughed. Defeating a horde of reanimated bodies that had had the power to change a living creature into a mindless, deadly killer had seemed like a pretty complex ordeal at the time.

  Rourke interrupted, “Can we trust Julian, the leader of the wolves?”

  Jeb frowned, glancing at Rourke with distaste. “That is undecided.” Jeb seemed pained to have to answer my mate.

  Before Rourke could argue or give Jeb a verbal smackdown, I asked, “What do you mean it’s undecided? I think it’s important to know who we can and cannot trust.” I would let Jeb know later that my team was an extension of myself and that he needed to treat them as such. The warlock was going to have to get used to doing business a new way—like dealing with those he thought inferior to himself, which was likely everyone on the entire planet.

  “Julian de Rossi is a man after his own interests,” Jeb answered, confirming what we already suspected. “It is unclear exactly what he will do next, because he changes his mind to suit himself.”

  Rourke had been right in his first assessment of Julian. “Does that make it harder to predict what his future choices will be?” I asked.

  “Yes and no.”

  “Jesus, man!” Ray piped in, disgruntled at Jeb’s obtuseness. “I thought you were an all-powerful supe who knew what was up? Telling us if we can trust Julian should be a no-brainer.”

  Jeb visibly bristled, his spiky brown hair vibrating with anger. It was the first time I’d seen his hairdo move. “You are incredibly lucky I decided to include you in this meeting at all,” he huffed. “I could’ve very well kept you both out.” He glared at Rourke and then Ray. “The only reason I’ve allowed it is because Jessica has informed me she will be doing things differently, so I have given her the benefit of the doubt. But this is not how I’m accustomed to working, and I will not have my authority challenged by a mere infant.” His nostrils flared. “You may be a reaper as well as a vampire, which is highly unique—in fact, you are the first of your kind. But you know nothing about this world.” He paused dramatically, before adding, “I would love to answer every burning question you have, but unfortunately, Fate is complex and it doesn’t work that way.” He turned his gaze on me. “To answer your question, Julian is hard to scry for because he changes his allegiances often, but”—he raised a hand in the air—“the final outcome will never change, because he will continue to do things for his benefit only. So I say yes and no because we won’t know every detail until he makes up his mind.” His finger went back to tracing the page. “I can tell you that on this night you are safe. He is interested in learning about what has happened to you. He’s curious about your power and genuinely wants to protect you, as his allegiance is to your father, Callum. But it won’t stay that way for long. He will be tempted away.”

  “By Enid?” I asked.

  “No, by someone else,” Jeb answered after he read a few more lines. “Julian de Rossi has a very dark side, one that he’s fed for much too long. His lover will prevail. He will be faced with a choice, one that will have severe consequences. He will choose wrong.”

  “A choice between Pack or a lover?” I asked.

  “No, between power and the chance at greater power,” Jeb answered.

  I rubbed my forehead.

  The warlock was tiring me out.

  I wasn’t going to pull a Ray and insult him to his face, so instead I asked, “Why is it that you can’t be more specific? I feel like we’re dancing around extremely important issues, and we don’t really have time to waste. Enid’s note said we had to get to the Ponte Vecchio or my friends will die. I’d like to know if we’re supposed to go there right away. Or find Tally first? It’s time for some real answers, Jeb.” I refrained from adding quicklike. I didn’t know my new assistant well, but I had the distinct feeling that after working with me for a while, he was going to be at his wit’s end.

  “I understand your frustration, and it would be wonderful if I could give you all the answers.” He nodded his agreement. “But I cannot do so without significantly altering Fate’s fabric. I am only allowed to give you what is written, but not everything is contained in this book for a reason.” His tone let me know that I should know such things. “For instance, I can see here that Julian’s lover will interfere and that she is very powerful, but she is unknown to us.” He glanced over the book. “But there are ways of finding out that information. Some simple sleuthing should allow you to figure out who she is.” He lifted a single, thick, bushy eyebrow at me. “You do have a background in sleuthing, isn’t that correct?”

  Score one for the warlock.

  “Yes, I do,” I said. “It shouldn’t be hard to find out who she is. I’ll put Nick and Marcy on it. Can you at least tell us what comes next? You said earlier that if we follow Enid’s directives, I will die. How do we get around that?”

  “The key word here is you,” Jeb answered. “You will die, no one else. So, while you must not follow them, someone else may. Enid will be able to anticipate some of your moves, but she cannot see us right now, which is making her very, very agitated. By having this meeting, we have already put a rent in her plans for the evening. She will have to scramble to make new ones, which will have a ripple effect.” He grinned, clearly proud of himself.

  I examined the warlock before me, all four and a half feet of him. “Are you the only one who can mask us from Enid?” It would be handy if we could cloak ourselves as often as we liked.

  “Myself and Juanita,” he confirmed before bobbing his head down and rifling through more pages in his book. “Wait, there is one other. It was written here”—his eyes bugged in surprise, tracking up to meet my gaze—“only yesterday. A powerful supernatural lives in this city and has the capabilities you’re looking for.” He closed the book with a loud clap. “This is a sign. If you find this supe and convince them to help you, you may very well survive.”

  “I don’t get it,” Ray complained. “Why can’t you just hang with us? If you’re so powerful you can keep us cloaked, what’s the problem? Aren’t you supposed to be Jessica’s assistant or something?”

  If Jeb could’ve struck Ray down where he stood, he would have. But the warlock knew I would not be pleased.

  “Do you take me for a common supernatural?” he sniffed. “I am no such thing! If I were to ‘hang around’ any longer than necessary, my power signature would alert every supernatural in the world to my location. I risk much by coming here before the Coalition is confirmed and certain protections are put in place. I do this for Jessica’s well-being only.”

  I didn’t feel like reminding Jeb that no one knew who he was. It was clear he thought supernaturals would try to kidnap him for his power or some such thing. But since the time of the last Coalition, it had been too long, and supernaturals were not the same as they used to be.

  I did have one question, however. “So, once the Coalition is formed, then you’ll be able to stick around?”

  “Yes. The Power of Five will bind to protect me from interference in this realm, and I will be able to come and go freely. But most of my affairs will be done outside of this realm. I prefer to work in my own home.”

  Sounded good to me.

  “Okay,” I said. “So how do we go about finding this powerful supernatural?”

  Jeb opened the book, and we watched the pages arrange themselves. He laid a single finger down and said, “He can be found, and I quote, ‘Where the statues stay, he will play.’”

  I sighed. “That’s it? That’s all that
’s written? Only that it’s a he, not even what kind of supe he is?”

  “It specifies only that he is old and has kept his power in check for a long time. His help might not be easy to acquire, because if he decides to show himself, he will become a target like myself. But you must try.” Jeb shut the book with a flourish, indicating he was done. “Now I must take my leave. Enid searches for you and is close to uncovering your location. Julian’s wolves are up the road. They will take you back to the Compound. Search for this supernatural this day and then head to the Ponte Vecchio for Enid’s next clue. You will be safe there for the night. If you can convince the supe to accompany you on the next task, tomorrow morning, he will guide you and keep you cloaked. If not, send someone else in your stead.” Before I could respond, Jeb popped out of reality with an audible crack.

  It was disconcerting to see him go like that.

  Ray shook his head. “That is one weird little dude.”

  My sentiments exactly.

  7

  Julian’s wolves were surprised to see us walking up the road. The SUV’s hood was up, and they stood scratching their heads. It was a brand-new vehicle.

  But, like magic, once we came within five feet, the engine started.

  Jeb had lots of tricks up his big, baggy, white sleeve.

  The drive to the Compound was short, up a long, winding driveway lined with beautiful trees and a rolling vineyard as far as the eye could see.

  I’d forgotten how beautiful it was here.

  The old villa was typical for Italy, built out of big blocks of buff-colored stone, with enormous terraces that wrapped around the entire estate and big floor-to-ceiling multipaned windows that could be opened twofold to let the beautiful outside in. The grounds were enormous, with several outbuildings in the distance and many more we couldn’t see.

  Julian stepped onto the veranda to greet us as we arrived. “I take it your meeting went well.” He made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “Come, we are enjoying some breakfast. I am sure you are hungry.”

  My stomach rumbled on cue.

  I’d finally learned how to keep my constant craving for sustenance in check—by blocking it out of my brain so I could function—but I wasn’t about to turn down a free breakfast. “Thank you,” I said. “We are starving.”

  “I don’t need breakfast,” Ray commented. “Instead, I think I’ll head into Florence and take a look around.” He glanced at me pointedly. “Get a head start on things.”

  I nodded. “Agreed. We’ll be ready to head out in about an hour. Meet us there.” He didn’t linger, shooting up into the air immediately.

  Julian appraised us, but said nothing as we followed him inside.

  It was clear to anyone who paid attention that Ray and I were closely bonded. I was happy Julian hadn’t asked any questions. My relationship with the reaper vampire was a hard one to define.

  Ray, Rourke, and I had briefly discussed matters after Jeb had vanished. Ray was going to snoop around the city and see what he could find about a supe who played with statues, while Rourke and I informed James, Marcy, Tyler, and Nick about everything in private. Then we were going to have to make some polite inquiries about who Julian’s lover was. I was confident we could figure it out without a lot of hassle.

  I was hopeful that once we found the powerful supernatural who could cloak me, he would help us. I mean, what kind of creature would want the world to fall into chaos if they could be of service?

  I didn’t think many.

  Unfortunately, Florence was the home of statues. There would be many places to look.

  Julian ushered us through an ornate foyer, complete with a huge crystal chandelier and a set of double spiral staircases, each leading to a different wing of the house. We walked under an archway and into a massive kitchen.

  A long, ornate table was the centerpiece of the room. It was positioned in front of three sets of French doors, overlooking a balcony and the vast expanse of the vineyards. The table could seat at least twenty. The parquet floors were honey-colored, and the table appeared to be made of reclaimed wood. Off to the right was a fully functional, modern kitchen, with marble countertops and big stainless-steel appliances.

  It was a gorgeous setting.

  “Hiya.” Marcy waved from the table. “Have a seat. The croissants are to die for.” She held one out as I pulled out a chair.

  “Did the meeting go well?” Tyler asked. In my mind, he asked, What’s up? Did Jeb have any important things to share? You weren’t gone that long.

  I took the proffered croissant from Marcy and sat down. The pastry was warm, indicating it was just out of the oven. The buttery crust flaked as I broke it in half. I held my moan inside. “The meeting went well,” I told the group. “Just some routine stuff he wanted to tell me now that we’ve arrived in Italy.” My tone was light. In my mind, I told Tyler, We’re going to have to track down a supe today who works with statues. We need to feel Julian out about where to go without alerting him that we’re on a mission. Oh, and we also have to find out who he’s sleeping with.

  Got it, Tyler replied. It was hard to ruffle Tyler, which I loved.

  Julian sat at the head of the table. He picked up a fork and knife and began to cut into what appeared to be an omelet. Eudoxia was nowhere to be found.

  A chef bustled into the kitchen, complete with a large white hat. He came up to the table. “Welcome, what may I offer you? In addition to the fresh fruit and pastries on the table, we have anything your heart desires. French toast, pancakes, soufflés, bacon, sausage, you name it.” He was a wolf and didn’t appear to be older than thirty human years, which meant he was at least fifty immortal years. He had dark hair that curled under the hat at the back of his neck. His skin was a warm olive tone, and his voice was heavily accented Italian, but he looked to be of mixed heritage of some kind.

  By his scent he was a wolf…but as I inhaled I found it was mixed with something else.

  That got my attention.

  “French toast and bacon sound wonderful. Thank you so much,” I told him. I refrained from asking him to bring me a bucket full of bacon. I figured he knew how to serve a pack of wolves, so he wouldn’t skimp. He took Rourke’s order, but before he left the table, I couldn’t help asking, “Are you a hybrid wolf?” It was rude to ask, especially after just meeting him, but I had to know. Something told me it was necessary. My wolf barked her agreement. I added hastily, “I’m sorry if I’m prying, please forgive me. But your scent is so interesting, I had to ask.”

  His expression reflected he was a little shocked that I’d been so bold, but it warmed quickly. It was clear he was a good-natured guy. “Yes, I’m a hybrid. I’m half wolf, half fox. Not many pick up on that.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  Fox was the last thing I thought he’d say, as shifters usually inherited their supernatural genes from their fathers. So that meant his father had been both fox and wolf, or his mother had fox genes of some kind.

  He seemed to anticipate my next question and preempted with, “My mother was Japanese. In Japan, there are female fox shifters, called—”

  “Kitsune,” Nick finished from across the table, grinning.

  My eyes flashed to my friend. Nick was a fox, but his shifter genes came from his father, who was Inuit. I smiled, turning back to the chef. “That’s so interesting. Thank you very much for telling us,” I said. “I apologize for being so brash. I know it’s impolite to ask. My only excuse is that I’m new and very curious. It seems you have some things in common with my friend here. Nick is a fox shifter as well.”

  The cook blushed. “I picked up on that. My Kitsune genes have given me a very enhanced sense of smell. I can detect almost any supernatural by their scent alone.”

  My eyebrows shot up again.

  Nick pushed back his chair and rose, reaching his hand across the table. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Nick Michaels. I look forward to sharing stories. Being a fox in a wolf’s den is a precarious position.
I’ve never met another fox before—Kitsune or other.”

  The chef leaned over the table and shook Nick’s extended hand, grinning widely. “I’m Lucas Mancini, and I look forward to swapping stories. You are correct, it’s not for the faint of heart.”

  Julian cleared his throat.

  I glanced up. It was clear the Alpha was trying to contain himself. Lucas should be beneath our notice, and this entire interaction had taken too long. A hybrid wolf was not a true wolf, especially not to a leader like Julian. Lucas’s place was likely at the very bottom of Pack hierarchy.

  Lucas didn’t take offense to his Alpha’s interruption. Instead, he smiled, bowing his head graciously before heading into the kitchen to prepare our breakfast.

  “Julian,” I said amiably, getting us back on track while popping another piece of delicious croissant into my mouth, “I’d forgotten how absolutely gorgeous your estate is. It’s stunning in every way. You must entertain a lot.” To my mate, I said internally, We have to find a way to bring Lucas into town with us. We need him to sniff out the supe we’re looking for. Try to think of something that doesn’t seem too suspicious. I’ll talk to Nick as soon as I can.

  Julian’s demeanor relaxed as he smiled proudly. “Yes, this villa and the grounds around it have been a work in progress for many years. I inherited it all from my father, who failed to keep up with all the needed repairs. These villas were built hundreds of years ago and need a lot of upkeep, especially one of this size. The renovations are finally complete.”

  In what I hoped was a casual tone, I changed the subject with, “Are there a lot of supernaturals in the area? I mean, Florence is a big city with old magic. It would only make sense that there is a large population of creatures living here.” I reached for some apricot preserves.