Blood Red Ashes (Dying Ashes Book 2)

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Blood Red Ashes (Dying Ashes Book 2) Page 19

by Annathesa Nikola Darksbane


  “And yes, that detective was clearly fucked up on Sang Juice,” Tamara shuddered. “He had all of the physical signs of having been…injected…with their venom. Poor guy didn’t have much self-control left; they’d obviously taken most of it away from him.”

  “He did smell like one of those blood vampire guys,” Rain said, returning from Charles’ bathroom with Jason in tow. He crinkled his now-human, freshly washed face in disgust. “And sweat, and gunpowder, and other stuff.”

  “Sanguinarians,” I corrected. I was glad I didn’t have a sense of smell that strong. Then again, if I had, we’d have been in a better situation weeks ago. “And why are you guys wearing different clothes?” I added curiously, noticing they’d changed out of the nondescript sweat clothes for jeans and T-shirts. When two coyotes had asked to use Charles’ bathroom, I’d figured it was just nature calling after all of the excitement.

  Rain blushed heavily, fair skin going bright red. Jason just held up one of the little drawstring bags he’d had me fetch from Charles’ truck earlier. “It’s weird. We can change shape, and our clothes go with us…” He chuckled. “But for some reason, they don’t always come back. So when we go out running or whatever, we wear Thrift Store disposables and carry extras.” He grinned, even as Rain tried to nonchalantly hide his blushing behind a raised hand and fake cough.

  “So you guys are okay and all? I know shit really hit the fan back there, but you two kinda saved my undead bacon.” I gave them a friendly smile. “Oh, and him too.” I pointed at Charles, who turned up a bottle of whiskey in response until Tamara took it away from him.

  “Concussion, sedative overdose, and Jack Daniels? Please stop.” She put the bottle out of his reach, ignoring his glare of protest.

  Jason shrugged, shuffling toward the abandoned whiskey bottle. “No prob, chica. All in a day’s work.” He winked at Tamara, who grinned in response.

  “Yeah! We wanted to help. I mean, it was dangerous, but kinda cool and really exciting, and it’s not the first time we’ve had to run from police…” He blushed again. “No—not like that. Nothing bad! Just some, uh…”

  “Disturbing the peace,” Jason finished, and Rain nodded furiously. Nostrils flaring, Jason located the hidden bottle of whiskey, picking it up and glancing over the label.

  Charles grunted without looking up, “Go ahead. Not like they’re gonna let me drink it.”

  Jason grinned and saluted the back of Charles’ head before taking a long draw. Rain eyed him disapprovingly, but said nothing.

  I wasn’t going to say anything either. Hell, for that matter, I wished I could join him.

  Just the thought of drinking something made my stomach rumble dully. On one hand, I was surprised I was hungry again so soon after my double feeding a couple of days ago. But then again, it wasn’t the first time I’d noticed that using my powers a lot ran me through my supply quicker than normal. And since my last feeding I’d fought Sanguinarians, been beaten up by a troll, called shadow from Next Door repeatedly, been shot, tackled a freaky ghost, fought a blood golem, and had to put up with Charles. All the fuel for that personal awesomeness had to come from somewhere, I figured. Besides, the hunger never really went away completely, not even at the best of times.

  And that was without considering what my close encounter with the Blood Man might have done to me. I shrugged mentally. I’d have to feed again soon, no two ways about it. Just not right now.

  “So why weren’t there more Sanguinarians there with Salvatore?” I glanced at Tamara and Charles. “Or more police, or more signs of vampiric influence?”

  “Solo act, sounds like,” Charles grunted.

  “That would fit with what we’ve seen from him so far,” Tamara concurred. “My guess is that he’s got a lack of support, something to prove, or both. Most older Sanguinarians don’t like to dirty their hands directly though, so it might be more than it seems.”

  I glanced at Rain and Jason. “Did you guys see or smell any more of them around?”

  They glanced at each other for a moment, then shrugged at the same time. “No,” Rain said. “Not anywhere we went on that floor or out in the parking lot or anywhere else.”

  “Interesting.” I tried to decide what that meant.

  “You know.” Jason put the bottle quietly back where Tamara had stuffed it, a bit lighter than when he’d found it. “It’s actually really cool to just be able to, well, talk about this stuff.” Rain nodded, and I shot them a curious look.

  “Our powers, what we really are…” Rain hid a shy smile beneath messy brown-black hair. “That kind of thing. First time we’ve been able to just...talk about it, I guess. Almost like it was normal.”

  I smiled. I understood what it was like not to fit in anywhere.

  “Do you not know many more Changelings?” Tamara asked, trying to wrap a fresh bandage around Charles’ head.

  Rain and Jason both shook their heads. “We’re the only ones we’ve ever seen, and we only met by chance,” the younger boy said. “And we never knew about that Bookbinder's place to try and find more.”

  “That’s odd,” Tamara mused, absently holding Charles’ face still with one strong alabaster hand. “I could have sworn there was a wolf-shifter pack somewhere in the metro area.”

  The boys exchanged another unreadable look; I wasn’t certain whether they liked that idea or not.

  “So how’s Charles?” I asked, changing the subject for them. I eyed the wizard. His breathing, heart rate, and typical irritability all seemed to have stabilized.

  “I’m right here, you know,” he responded.

  Ignoring him, Tamara stepped away from the magician and wiped her hands on a clean cloth. “I’ll remind you again that I’m not a doctor,” she said. “He still has a grating attitude, no sense of humor, and, as far as I can tell, a concussion.” She looked down at the wizard with his feet up on the coffee table, his body draped across his vaguely-comfortable looking old couch. He picked up a floppy, weathered bush hat from an equally weathered end table and put it over his face. “Exactly how severe, I don’t know. All I do know is that it doesn't appear to be life threatening and he seems to be recovering quickly.” She eyed him. “The drugs seem to have all but worn off too.”

  I tucked my phone away, leaving it on in the hope that there wasn’t going to be any more spell slinging in the immediate future. “Well, the internet seems to concur with you,” I rasped. “About the concussion, that is. And I’d be surprised if you didn’t know first aid,” I gave her a lopsided, fanged grin, “Because of all the hearts you stop.” I blinked, as the words left my mouth without me even thinking about them.

  “No, I’m just full of surprises.” She cocked a hip and grinned back. “My family just expects a certain level of competency from their main line. Things like basic martial arts, first aid, law, economics...” She made a face. “Well, we’re supposed to know all of that, anyway.”

  “Martial arts,” I mused. The closest I knew was a little rusty self defense and what I’d learned from watching a ton of old school professional wrestling with my dad and uncle. “Should get you to teach me sometime.”

  “God and the spirits save us,” Charles grumbled from under the hat. “That’s the last thing we need. For you to have more reason to throw punches first and ask questions eventually.”

  “That’s okay, Charles, I remember the Rawhead too,” I grinned. “We all know you love me.” My smile slowly faded. “But…” I turned my attention to the two boys, my reluctance crumbling under the weight of necessity. “I think we need to get going. That trail you guys found isn’t going to get any fresher.”

  “We’re going back out?” Jason asked, glancing at Rain, his voice hesitant, cautious. “I guess we have to, don’t we?”

  Rain nodded. “Those little kids out there need our help. We can’t back out now, no matter what.” His voice was nervous, but his words were resolute.

  “Well, you’re not going anywhere without me,” Charles stated firmly,
trying to rise, hat still stuck to the front of his head. Tamara, perched on the arm of the couch, pushed him effortlessly back down and he didn’t try again.

  “That’s exactly what we’re doing,” I commented. “Unless you’re magically one hundred percent in the next half hour.” He grumbled something indistinct and uncomplimentary under the rumpled hat. “Tam, you’ll have to stay too and make sure he doesn't do anything crazy, like drive after us with a concussion and drugs in his system.”

  She didn’t look happy about it, but she nodded. “Well, first things first. I’ve got an info dump for you.”

  “Oh? Let’s hear it.” Anything to shine more light on the whole murky situation.

  Tamara took a deep breath. “So, all the victims? They’re related to the Keys, the original victims, even if only indirectly. Neighbors, friends, even the doctor that delivered Maggie.”

  I frowned, considering. “Makes me think about what Mama Flora said,” I directed my words at the old hat resting on the couch. “Not that I get all of that still, mind you.”

  Charles sighed. “I’ll get back to you when I have less of a concussion. For now, we should probably just follow the physical trail we found.” I noticed he still said we.

  I crossed my arms. “There’s something I don’t get though,” I rasped. “These connections...you don’t exactly need Moroi-level contacts to figure all of this out.”

  “So why haven’t the police done it by now?” Jason jumped on my line of thought, his voice heavy with suspicion.

  “Maybe they have,” the bush hat commented. “And someone in the department kept it quiet.”

  “Like the one that tried to shoot Charles tonight,” Tamara stated.

  I nodded, grinding my fangs. “Which means they’ve still got a dog in this fight too. Somewhere.” The room fell silent for a moment. I knew there was a piece missing, something obvious staring us in the face that would make this whole puzzle snap together. Something to link all the dead ends together into some kind of trail we could actually—

  With a sharp snap of my fingers, I figured out what it was. “I’ve got it.”

  Charles lifted the hat enough to eye me. “Gonna share?”

  I glanced at Rain and Jason. “I don’t normally dream. I can’t.” They nodded. “But the last couple of days, I’ve been having...let’s call it assisted dreaming.” I glanced around the room. “I’m pretty certain the Blood Man—the thin man in the coat and hat, Maggie’s real murderer—has been using his pet ghost to infiltrate my dreams and pass along a message.”

  “Oh?” Tamara was watching me with concern and curiosity.

  “Well, today, he wanted my help.” I clipped the words, edging them in disgust. “Tried to convince me how alike we were, and…”

  “Go on,” Tamara urged softly, reassuringly.

  “He said someone was controlling him. He wanted me to help him get rid of them. Said it was in my own best interest, because that individual also wanted to use me.” I held up a finger. “What one person do we know who has a personal interest in me and keeps showing up every step of the way and interfering?”

  “That vampire guy!” Rain exclaimed.

  “Salvatore,” Charles growled from under the hat.

  I nodded. “He keeps trying to put the nail in our coffins, but what reason does he have to do away with Charles and risk the wrath of the Magisterium, if all he wants is me?”

  “I’m in his way,” the magician stated flatly.

  “Exactly.” I was almost restless enough to stand up and pace. “But in the way of what?”

  “The abductions,” Tamara said, looking angry.

  “Right.” I looked to Rain and Jason. Did you get a good whiff of the Spanish-looking guy in the waiting room back at St. Valentine’s?” They both nodded immediately. “But you didn’t smell him at the Redgraves’ home.”

  “No, not at all,” Rain looked perplexed.

  I grinned, triumphant. “So Salvatore’s not the abductor—”

  “—But he’s protecting the abductor,” Tamara finished. “By interfering with our search, by attacking Charles. Why?”

  “And then there’s the fact that we’ve uncovered something in three weeks that the police managed not to uncover in seven years,” I added. “Almost like someone’s been using influence to keep them from looking into it properly.”

  An angry noise emanated from the hat. “Dammit, you’re right. This whole thing fits together too well—and is too fucked up—for you to be far off the mark.”

  “But how does this connect back to Dani?” Tamara demanded. Rain and Jason both looked at her, perplexed; it was the first time they’d heard the name of the missing Moroi. “Someone kidnapped my youngest sister,” Tamara said softly, her voice mostly masking the hint of anger and fear. “And we don’t know who or why, but I’m worried the Sanguinarians did it to pressure Mother.”

  “What does that mean?” Rain asked nervously. They didn’t seem to know who Tamara was, but the weight of the matter was abundantly clear.

  Tamara’s beautiful alabaster face turned grim in an instant, her eyes glittering. “A supernatural street war, if we’re lucky.”

  “And if we’re not?” Jason asked. Now he sounded nervous too. Two Changelings with no protective ties to the Treaty in Blood and no big organization that had their backs? It wasn’t a pretty picture for them.

  She shook her head in response. “Ask some of the people in South America, like Colombia...or hell, even in Detroit what it’s like to live in a city where there’s no other power in place to check Sanguinarian influence. A war would be ugly, but that would be worse. They do as they like, and damn anyone who gets in the way.”

  “Growing their influence all the while,” Charles commented.

  “Unfortunately,” Tamara sighed,” We’re still no closer to finding her than we have been. I’m starting to wonder if all of this is even connected or simply conveniently distracting. All we can do is follow the current trail of clues and hope it leads to my little sister.” Her deep blue eyes flickered, lined with wetness.

  This time, it was I who stepped over and laid a comforting hand on her arm. After a moment, Tamara squeezed my cold, rough hand appreciatively, seeming grateful and not quite as upset. I leaned against the couch. “How likely is a war? And how bad would it be?”

  Tamara looked sad. “Overall…I don’t know either answer. But I’ve been thinking about it and listening to my family talk. And if you want my honest, personal opinion?” She went still. “I don’t think we’d go to war at all. If something puts the screws to Mother hard enough to back her off of Birmingham, I think we might just pull everyone out completely.”

  “Why?” asked Rain.

  Tamara’s pale, flawless face was creased with grim, anxious lines that didn’t suit her at all. “Because I doubt we could win.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Following bloody footprints

  Tamara wasn’t happy with me about my insistence that she should stay behind, and to be honest, I wasn’t happy with myself for insisting. I’d never had a sibling, but if I had, I figured I’d want to be out there confronting the assholes who’d abducted her too.

  I’d made certain to gently tuck Charles in before I departed, leaving him with a nicely fluffed pillow and fresh ice pack. He’d called me a few creative names as I left, and insisted he’d catch up before we found our prey. I half hoped he was right, but I didn’t expect it.

  Someone had to stay with the injured wizard, and not just to keep him from hurting himself further somehow. Charles had fried his crappy phone while fighting off Salvatore’s ambush, leaving us with no way to easily contact him for help or advice until it was probably too late for either. I was also much more durable than my mortal friends, so if someone had to go out there and get sucker punched by whatever the Blood Man really was, better me than them.

  I also wasn’t certain how much longer I could have kept standing around smelling Charles’ blood.

  If I
could have left Rain and Jason behind too, I would have in an instant, but unfortunately they were more essential to our success right now than anyone. We’d picked up the trail right where they had lost it earlier in the day and followed the old, bloody scent down some very dark and very not-safe back alleys and streets. I kept a strict vigil over the two teenagers, ever wary for another ambush.

  I glanced at my phone again as we passed another darkened intersection, then powered it back off. The night was over halfway gone already thanks to Salvatore’s antics at the hospital, and I was getting antsy.

  I’d made the Blood Man a promise, after all, and I was eager to keep my word.

  When I looked back up, I found Rain checking his phone too, swiping out a quick text with a light sigh. “Things okay with your dad?” I asked.

  He blinked, caught off guard. “What? Oh. I just don’t like lying to him is all.”

  It seemed I’d guessed right. “You don’t owe me an answer, but I’m curious…” I frowned. “Does he not know about your abilities? And nighttime excursions?”

  Rain shook his head, his shoulders slumping.

  Jason grunted. “I keep telling Rain he should just tell him and get it over with. Garibaldi’s the best guy I know. He’ll be cool with it, if anyone will.”

  Rain shook his head more firmly, then looked at me. “Mitchell Garibaldi. He’s my adopted dad, and I…I just don’t want to let him down or anything. Or drag him into the whole ‘magic, ghosts, and the supernatural’ thing. He’s just a businessman, you know?”

  That name, Mitchell Garibaldi, sounded really familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

  “So what’s it like, being a coyote?” I changed the subject, glancing off to our right at the massive, ominous junkyard we were trying to circumvent.

  “Really, really fun,” Jason was quick to reply.

  “It’s like…” Rain frowned and trailed off, going quiet for a long moment. “Wow. Way harder to explain than I thought.” He smiled softly. “I guess, you know, what’s being a human like?”

 

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