Blood Trouble

by Connie Suttle

  "My brother wanted to discuss business. It took up the whole night and my mother let me have it afterward because Breanne got tired of waiting and left without me," Jayson went on.

  "Nobody asked you for a play-by-play," I said. "I don't feel good. I'm going home."

  "Baby, you're too tipsy to go home by yourself," Hank said.

  "Really? Watch me," I rose again. Hank pulled me back down.

  "Breanne bought the house down the hill from me," Jayson said, as if someone had asked him to empty his mind of all the information he had on me. "Paid cash."

  "Fuck you, Jayson Rome," I repeated. "I'm going home. Feel free to discuss everything you think you know about me after I leave."

  "Bree, you don't look good," Hank said.

  "I feel like shit," I said. "You can thank asshole Rome for that. I sure as hell won't."

  "Bree? Is that your nickname?" Jason asked.

  "My nickname is none of your fucking business. I want to throw up. Where's the bathroom?" I staggered to my feet.

  "Let me take you," Hank stood and took my hand.

  "I don't need your help," I jerked my hand from his. "I can take care of myself. Always have." I stalked away from him, the restroom sign wavering in my vision as I made my way across the bar.

  * * *

  "Go ahead, tell me I fucked up."

  "You fucked up. But I fucked up first," Hank mumbled as his sandwich, fries and half-order of onion rings was set before him. "And I still want to kill you. What the hell did you say to her?"

  "I told her the truth—that I don't usually date and I prefer big, curvy women."

  "That's always an icebreaker," Hank said, lifting his sandwich. "And do I understand correctly that she did this as a favor to you, so you'd have somebody on your arm for your parents' party, and then left her by herself the entire night?"

  "I had no idea Jamie wanted a meeting. He didn't email me beforehand."

  "And you just dance to his tune, is that it? How rude are you, Rome? Your mother is likely wondering why both her sons weren't at her anniversary party."

  "Yeah. I just—yeah. Look, what's Breanne to you?"

  "She owns half my club. I didn't tell her what kind of club it was—I was waiting to do that, she got called to fucking Somalia, was somehow mixed up in that mess there, came home exhausted and because the music was vibrating her apartment over the bar, she came down to see me. Walked right in on a flogging. I never want to see that look on her face again." Hank bit into his sandwich and chewed determinedly.

  "You're the reason she wanted to buy a house so fast and didn't even dicker on the price."

  "Yeah. I guess I am. Half owner of my bar isn't all she is to me, either."

  "Planning to bring her into the community?"

  "That will never happen. You didn't see the look on her face. Something happened to her somewhere along the way, Rome. She's not cut out for it."

  "Hell, she's not big enough to take it, anyway."

  "Say that again and I really will kill you."

  * * *

  Normally I wouldn't have misted from the restroom after heaving up the contents of my stomach, but I still felt awful and I wasn't in the mood to face Jayson or Hank again. Let them wonder how the hell I got out of the bar—I'm sure Hank was waiting for me to come out so he could start making excuses again. I made it home—barely, fell face-first on my bed and passed out, fully clothed.

  * * *

  Forcing myself to wake Saturday morning before nine, I made a cup of coffee and then sat at the kitchen island in a stupor while it went completely cold. My new mattress was scheduled to be delivered around ten, and all I could do was feel sorry for myself while a headache pounded through what little brain matter I had left. When the doorbell rang, I heaved myself off the barstool I'd camped on and went to answer the door.

  It wasn't the delivery truck. Hank stood on my doorstep, a box in his arms. "Go away," I snapped and attempted to shut the door.

  "No you don't," Hank forced his way in, hefting the box (and his shoulders) right past me. "I brought the rest of your stuff from the apartment."

  "Throw it out. I don't need it," I said.

  "Baby, I brought your stuff. And I'll add your rent you didn't use up to what I owe you."

  "No, you won't. I already said we're even, Hank. Take yourself and your kinky ways right out that door again."

  "People ask for what I do," he said, setting the box down on my kitchen floor.

  "Please stop talking." I rubbed my forehead with shaking fingers. The doorbell rang again.

  "Get out. I'm having a new mattress set delivered," I pushed past Hank and went to the door. Trina stood on my porch with a foil-covered plate in her hands.

  "Trina, I owe you an ass-kicking," I said as she placed the plate in my hands. I did. I had no idea she'd set up that location app on our phones.

  "I'll just pass the ass-kicking to Mr. Jayson Rome," she said. "So make it a good one."

  "Look, why don't I cut out the middleman and give it straight to him. I think he needs it," I said.

  "You're right about that," Trina agreed. "Who's this?" her eyebrows lifted as she caught sight of Hank, who'd found my coffeepot and coffee. He was busy brewing a cup of coffee for himself. "Hey, handsome," Trina called out. "I could use a cup, and I brought the best oatmeal cookies you'll ever eat with me."

  "Sounds good," Hank said, handing the freshly brewed cup to Trina, who settled onto a barstool, grabbed the plate of cookies from me and proceeded to remove the foil. Hank pulled another cup from the cabinet and started brewing more coffee.

  "Unbelievable," I sighed, rubbing my forehead again.

  "She has a headache," Hank said, grabbing a cookie and biting into it. "These really are the best," he nodded to Trina.

  "Told ya," she nodded. "Coffee's good."

  "Look, I'm going to the store for ibuprofen," I told my uninvited guests. "If the mattress guys show up, just tell them the master bedroom is down the hall at the end." I waved my hand vaguely in the proper direction and pulled my purse off the kitchen counter.

  "Baby, I'll get it for you," Hank stood up.

  "No, stay there and be eye candy for Trina. I reckon she's mighty tired of looking at Jayson Rome. I got tired of him in thirty seconds flat last night." I stalked toward the garage.

  "Where did that drawl come from?" Trina asked as I walked toward the back door.

  "Texas," Hank replied.

  * * *

  When I got back from the nearest pharmacy after buying the biggest bottle of ibuprofen they had, the delivery truck was blocking my driveway. What wasn't already taken up by Jayson's Mercedes, that is. At that point, I was so out of sorts and my head hurt so badly that I was tempted to throw everybody out of my house. As a vampire, I was strong enough—and pissed enough—to accomplish it without much effort.

  "What the hell are you doing here?" I snapped at Jayson Rome, who sat at my kitchen island, drinking coffee and eating oatmeal cookies with Hank and Trina as if he belonged there. He didn't answer, so I went to the cupboard next to the sink, grabbed a glass, filled it with water and washed down four ibuprofen, hoping that would be enough to stop the pounding in my head.

  "How did you get out of the bar last night without us seeing you?" Jayson demanded.

  "You think I'll tell you anything?" I said. "Get out of my house. I paid for it. It doesn't belong to you anymore. Go get some of those women you're so fond of. Do you pay Hank a finder's fee for pointing them in your direction?"

  "You really did fuck up, didn't you?" Trina eyed Jayson distastefully as she crunched into another oatmeal cookie. "Is it your job to ruin all my friendships?"

  "Mattress and foundation are on the bed," one of two delivery guys shoved a clipboard in my direction for a signature.

  "It looks good—I checked," Trina said.

  "Fine." I signed and handed the clipboard back. "If you all will excuse me, I'm going to put sheets on my bed and then do a faceplant. Please be gone whe
n I wake up." I walked down the hall toward my bedroom.

  "Bree," Hank's weight on my new bed forced my eyes open—I'd been trying to sleep and hadn't had much luck at it. A large hand rubbed my shoulders gently. "Baby, I will never ask you for more than you can give. I promise I'll never hurt you or raise a hand against you. I think I know better than that. I just want you back. Like we were. Go to sleep, now. I can see the pain behind your eyes."

  * * *

  "Bob," Ross Gideon spoke with the private detective he often hired to tail politicians and to do discreet research, "Find out everything you can on someone named Breanne Hayworth. Something about that name bothers me."

  "Do you know where she's from? So I can narrow the search?" Bob Sullivan asked.

  "Somewhere in west Texas. I heard a story from her last night at a party about Everett Williams and it rings true, I just don't have any idea how she might have come in contact with the Senator before his death. She doesn't look to be more than twenty-two, which would have made her sixteen when he died. We both know he was in poor health and didn't socialize the last two years, so that puts her at fourteen. Too young, I think to be working anywhere near him. Find out what you can and get back to me. Pronto."

  "Will do, Mr. Gideon."

  "Thanks, Bob."

  * * *

  "Teeg, what are we here for, again?" Stellan asked. "Ferdik was a criminal. Most of the population of Theele knows that. Why are they insisting on a memorial?"

  "No idea, but they are, so it's my duty to show up." Teeg San Gerxon gazed out the window at the fading light over the city of Thelik, capital of Theele. A statue and a plaque would be unveiled the following morning and Teeg, as Founder of the Campiaan Alliance, was expected to say a few words. Teeg, who'd once been Gavril Montegue, already had a short speech prepared. It had to be short—President Ferdik's tenure in the highest office on Theele had also been short and filled with graft and corruption.

  All four Starr brothers were with Teeg, to guard him while he was away from Campiaa. Teeg had only asked Astralan and Stellan to come with him, and intended to leave Galaxsan and Celestan with Dee, to guard the old vampire who was Teeg's assistant as well as his foster-sire. Astralan argued that Theele might be considered unfriendly territory, since Ferdik had been murdered while visiting Campiaa. Some Theeli still held Teeg responsible for Ferdik's death, although Ferdik hadn't been a stellar politician in anybody's eyes and Teeg hadn't been anywhere near Ferdik when he'd died.

  Nall Seak had never been captured, and he was the one responsible for Ferdik's death. Teeg still had a bounty on Seak's head, but he hadn't been seen since his escape after plotting Ferdik's demise.

  "We'll be out of here right after the luncheon with President Houx tomorrow," Teeg sighed. "I promise."

  "Good. Because I don't like staying on Theele one tick longer than necessary," Astralan walked into the room.

  "Look, I know all of you are antsy, I feel that way, too," Teeg offered.

  "Antsy?"

  "One of my mother's idioms."

  "She has a lot of those. Did she give them to you for a birthday or something?" Astralan grinned.

  "Don't be an ass," Teeg growled.

  * * *

  Breanne's Journal

  I woke up after midnight and found only four cookies left on the plate Trina brought me. She, Hank and Jayson had consumed the rest. Pouring out a glass of milk, I settled on a barstool to have a cookie or two. They really were good, and I was on my third one when prescience kicked in.

  I wouldn't have saved Teeg San Gerxon. Probably. The one I would save, however, even if he didn't remember me, was Stellan. While the freak sandstorm razed Thelik, I was screaming mentally and hauling Teeg, Stellan and his brothers away in my mist.

  Chapter 7

  Breanne's Journal

  "Breanne, I'm asking you nicely to please reconsider. Mom and Dad are coming to the game. They have a suite reserved and Mom is expecting you." Jayson almost sounded as if he were begging. I wasn't buying it.

  "Take Belinda or one of those other women," I huffed. "I don't do much in the leather department. I'm a vegetarian, remember?"

  "Mom loves that about you."

  "I'm sure she does. Her son, however, finds me grossly inadequate and walks away whenever he gets a chance. As much as I like your mother, I don't feel good about stringing her along. I'm just a front for you—admit it."

  "Bree, I'll invite Hank to come, too. I promise one of us will be with you."

  "Sure. That sounds so comfortable," I said. "Your mother will wonder what the hell is going on when Hank pays more attention than you do. Frankly, I don't want anything from either of you."

  Jayson was still trying to convince me to go to the basketball game the following evening, and he'd shown up at my front door to do it. I'd been grumpy ever since I'd come back after saving Teeg San Gerxon's ass. Sure, it would put the Campiaan Alliance in chaos, but for a blink, or maybe half a blink—I'd considered saving Stellan and his brothers and leaving Teeg behind to be flayed and swallowed by a sandstorm that had destroyed most of Thelik.

  "What can I possible do to convince you to come? Donate to Mercy Crossings or some other charity? What?" He'd arrived at my front door as if he'd been invited. I made him stand at the door instead of inviting him in.

  "Give Trina a raise. That car she's driving really needs to be retired."

  "What?" Jayson almost shouted.

  "Okay, the price just went up. Buy her a new car." Did I realize he'd take the bait? No.

  "All right. I agree, that piece of crap needs to go to the salvage yard. I'll buy her a new car."

  "A good one. She doesn't want a TinyCar, I know that much."

  "You think I'd let anybody out of the driveway in one of those things? I saw yours and almost gagged."

  "But since I'm nobody important to you, I can drive whatever the hell I want," I pointed out. "Besides, I got my car from a vending machine. Put in a dollar and it dropped out. It was too bad, too—I wanted a soda."

  The corners of Jayson's mouth threatened to turn up. Schooling his face, he said, "I never pegged you for an extortionist," instead.

  "I never pegged you for an asshole, either, but disappointment abounds. Sell that Mercedes you have and buy four decent cars with the proceeds. See? Everybody's happy."

  "That's a Mercedes McLaren," Jayson howled.

  "Then buy eight decent cars."

  "If you weren't so smart and my mother didn't like you so much," Jayson threatened.

  "You'd what? Have one of those bigger, taller, better-endowed women beat me up? Jayson Rome, feel free to bring anybody you want against me. They won't last ten seconds."

  "You'll come to the game? I still plan to invite Hank. I usually sit courtside, but since Dad's coming and bringing Mom," Jayson didn't finish.

  "Just don't make an ass out of yourself this time." I shut the door in his face before he could sputter a reply.

  * * *

  Lissa's Journal

  "Mom, I don't know why we're still alive. Everybody in a click radius died behind us. Somebody misted us away from there—Astralan and Stellan both say their power died when the winds first reached us, and I couldn't even turn to mist. I thought it might have been you." Teeg watched my face carefully—he'd asked me to meet him at his office in Campiaa City.

  "Honey, it wasn't me," I said. Worry almost made my voice shake. I hadn't even known he was in danger, and that shouldn't be. Just like the sandstorms I'd witnessed with Merrill, Kiarra and Adam in the Dark Realm, I'd had no warning of this one, either, even with my son's life in danger. After the destruction of Yigga Prison and the resulting deaths around it, I'd hoped for no more sandstorms. Instead, things were ramping up in the Light worlds. Thelik served to spook the population in both Alliances, and I couldn't say I blamed them. I was spooked, too.

  "What's the problem?" Gavin and Merrill both appeared inside Teeg's office. At least Merrill's radar still worked, and he'd likely hauled Gavin along wit
h him.

  "I'm still trying to get used to this," Gavril waved an arm in Merrill's direction.

  "It should have always been," Merrill growled. "And would have been, without your grandfather's interference."

  "Look, this isn't the time for a family fight," I pointed out judiciously. "We have to figure out who's causing these sandstorms, and devise a way to save the cities and the people they're destroying."

  "I have no idea how to do that—we were barely able to fold away before," Merrill agreed, sitting beside me on Gavril's guest sofa. Gavin, arms crossed tightly over his chest, chose to remain standing.

  Gavin was still angry that I hadn't remained in contact with him, and he was angry with himself (although he wouldn't admit it) because he'd fallen victim to a mind cloud and didn't realize it. He still wouldn't discuss Breanne with me. It shamed him, and he knew he'd damaged any relationship I might have with my half-sister.

  Kiarra had placed Gavin on probation, so any wrong move on his part in the next three years would see him kicked out of the Spawn Hunters. I hadn't taken Gavin's side in this, and he understood from that just how pissed I was over his behavior.

  Gavril, too, had mistreated his aunt, and he skirted the topic, just as his father did. It made me sigh—I hadn't even gotten to talk with her before she disappeared. When I'd asked Erland to arrange a meeting with my father in Rylend's private study, I'd informed Griffin then that he'd fathered a second daughter. That meeting hadn't gone well and he'd disappeared.

  Later, he'd asked Erland to arrange a second meeting on Karathia. He wanted to ask questions about Breanne, but I had very little information to offer. She'd gotten away from Le-Ath Veronis as quickly as she could, and I couldn't blame her in the slightest.

  "I've talked with my father, and he's understandably upset that we didn't recognize her. She was Karathian after all—enough to be the Q'elindi Erland suspected," my father muttered, turning away from me. "Where is she now?"

  "I have no idea," I'd told him. "You know the Larentii say she's the Vhanaraszh, too." His shoulders drooped and he'd sighed heavily before disappearing again. That was Griffin—never taking responsibility for his actions until long after the fact. I'd ended up tossing a hand in the air in resignation and folding back to Le-Ath Veronis.