Bloodline

by J. J. Bonds

  “So how are things going?” she asks, tucking a stray curl behind her ear and fixing me with that penetrating stare of hers, the one that knows when I’m lying and when I’m holding back. “Ready for your final exams?”

  I roll my eyes. “Really? You brought me down here to talk about my finals?” I ask, scrunching my nose. Since when does Anya stick to safe subjects like schoolwork? Then again, if she’s been talking to Professor Schmidt, she knows that chemistry isn’t exactly a safe subject. More like one I’m at risk of failing.

  “All right, then.” She folds her hands on her desk and peers out the window. From her office, she’s got a picturesque view of the Green Mountains, which are lush and ripe from the spring rain. It’s actually kind of beautiful with the morning sun shining above. It reminds me that I won’t be doing any hunting this summer since I’ll be stuck on campus. Talk about sucktastic. “How are you feeling about your first year at Crossroads?”

  “I survived,” I quip, though it’s not really funny. It actually is quite a feat, considering all I’ve been through. I try not to think about Luka and Damian, but their deaths weigh on my mind, and every now and then I dream about them. Truthfully, they’re more like nightmares. Which is why we don’t talk about it much. And why I don’t think about it, I remind myself, pushing the errant thoughts from my brain. I prefer to remember Damian as the rosy-cheeked boy he was before Luka turned him into a monster like me.

  Anya shoots me a disapproving glare and changes course once again. She’s a master at keeping me off balance. “Have you and Nik talked about what happens after graduation?”

  A slow flush creeps up my neck and bleeds into my cheeks as I nod in confirmation. I know she’s talking about Nik joining the Linkuri and not sex, but I can’t help it. Her question just goes to show where my brain’s been lately. Nik and I haven’t done it yet. We haven’t even really talked about it, which sort of makes me wonder if he doesn’t want to. But he’s a guy, right? All guys want to do it. Don’t they? Not that I’d ever ask Anya. Still, with the graduation ball looming and Nik’s departure, it’s been on my mind. A lot.

  “How do you feel about Nik leaving?” Anya asks, trying as usual to get me to talk about my feelings. But that’s just the opening I need, isn’t it? Maybe this will open the door to something I’ve been dying to learn more about: the Order of the Red Dawn.

  “I don’t know,” I say, twisting a loose strand of hair around my finger. It’s the truth. I don’t know how to feel about Nik leaving or what it means for us. “I know Nik can take care of himself, and I know that joining the Linkuri is his dream, but with everything going on with the Order, I am worried about what could happen to him.”

  Anya shakes her head silently, encouraging me to keep talking.

  “Have you heard anything new about the Order lately?” Anya has a direct line to Aldo, so there’s every possibility he’s keeping her abreast of their activity, if only so she can use the knowledge to keep me safe and out of trouble.

  She smiles, and unfortunately it’s the ‘gotcha’ kind. She’s not falling for my act. “You know I can’t talk about the Order. Aldo would have my ass.”

  “Come on,” I plead, blowing out a frustrated sigh. “I’ve heard whispers from other students. Why should I be the only one kept in the dark?”

  “First of all, you know better than to listen to rumors,” she chastises me. She’s making her authoritative face now, the one with the flattened brows and pinched lips. I smile inwardly. Anya is far from intimidating. “Besides, you’ve done your part, warning Aldo and the other Elders. Now it’s up to the Council to find the Order and destroy them.”

  I cringe at her words.

  Anya tilts her head thoughtfully. “This must be difficult for you, being of mixed blood yourself.”

  “Yes. And no,” I tell her, realizing just how screwed up my feelings really are when it comes to the Order. Then again, is it really any surprise my feelings on the matter are a mess? A mixed-blood masquerading as a pureblood, I’m inextricably tied to both worlds. “The Order is right about one thing. Mixed-blood vampires are treated like complete crap. Based on my experience, being pure sure as hell doesn’t make one vampire better than another. It’s ridiculous. Honestly, even humans have figured out the concept of civil rights and equality.”

  “But?” Anya asks.

  “But I don’t condone unnecessary violence or the murder of innocent vampires.” I sigh, my heart spiraling into the pit of my stomach at the thought of so much death. “There has to be another way.”

  **********

  I quickly scan my notes one last time as we wait for Professor Schmidt to pass out the chem final. I am so screwed. The formulas all look the same, and I keep reversing ionic and covalent compounds. I take a deep breath and exhale, desperately deploying the meditation techniques Anya’s taught me. This is not the time to freak out.

  “If you don’t know it by now, you’re wasting your time,” Jade says, sliding into the desk in front of me. I’m not sure if she’s commiserating or condescending, so I just nod and resume skimming my notes. Either way, I don’t have time to chat, although deep down I hate that she’s right. Cramming was probably not the best approach. I should have studied more when I had the chance.

  Jade turns around and looks at me expectantly. Unable to ignore her, I relent. Better to just get this over with. “Yes, Jade?”

  “So I heard you’re going to the graduation ball with Nikolai.”

  I wait for the usual smart remark to follow, but it never comes. Finally, I answer. “Um, yeah.”

  “That’s cool. I’m on the committee. It’s going to be the most amazing ball any graduating class has ever hosted. And I got the most incredible little black dress. Emphasis on the little!” she says, laughing conspiratorially. I’m at a loss for words, but fortunately she’s done chatting and turns back around to face the front of the room.

  Schmidt enters then, clearing his throat loudly to announce his arrival, as if we could have missed it. “Please clear your desks. If you have not already mastered the material, you are unlikely to retain it now.”

  Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Schmidt. I sigh and shove my notes in my backpack as he begins passing out the exams.

  “It’s about time,” Jade grumbles, flipping her glossy hair over her shoulder. It lands on my desk, fanning across the flat surface like something out of a shampoo commercial. I roll my eyes and sweep it aside with my pencil. As an afterthought, I scoot my desk further back, putting more distance between us. Jade slaps an exam down on her desk and turns to pass me the remaining stack.

  “Good luck.”

  “You too,” I respond, wondering why she’s being so pleasant today. It’s way out of character. Last I checked, she thought I was her mortal enemy, and maybe I am since she still has designs on my boyfriend. Not to mention highly questionable morals. Have I slipped into an alternate universe? Jade being nice? To me? Hell, maybe I will pass my chem final after all.

  “Clock’s ticking, people,” Schmidt announces, taking a seat behind his polished desk. “Get busy.”

  Then again, maybe not. I quickly scribble my name in the top left corner and scan the first page. True and false. At least I have a fifty-fifty shot at getting this part right. Encouraged, I read the first question and hastily circle true before I can second-guess myself.

  Thirty minutes that feel like an eternity pass, and there’s a sharp knock at the classroom door. Without waiting for permission to enter, our guest yanks the door open and steps into the room. Curious and happy to have a distraction, I raise my eyes to study our visitor, as does most of the class. Guess I’m not the only one struggling with compound equations.

  The woman who enters is tall and thin, her sleek blond hair pulled back in a ponytail that hangs halfway down her back. Her eyes are sharp and sweep the room in a heartbeat, assessing the student body and instantly dismissing Schmidt. Dressed all in black, her leather jacket screams ‘Screw with me and I’l
l kick your ass. Hard.’

  “May I help you?” Schmidt asks, sounding more than mildly annoyed at the interruption.

  She ignores him and addresses the class. “Katia Lescinka?”

  Eff. Of course she’s looking for me. I wonder what I’ve done to warrant the visit. I doubt this is a social call; they never are.

  “Right here,” I say, rising from my desk. I cringe inwardly, hating that my voice sounds unsure. I don’t want her thinking I’m easily intimidated.

  “Come with me,” she orders me, turning back toward the door. She offers no further explanation, clearly expecting me to comply without argument. Not bloody likely.

  “In case you haven’t noticed,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest, “I’m in the middle of an exam.”

  “Not my problem.” She casts a cool gaze at Schmidt, daring him to challenge her unknown authority. Her jacket shifts, revealing a pistol tucked in the waistband of her jeans. Who the hell is this chick?

  “Go ahead, Miss Lescinka,” he agrees with dismissive wave. “We can sort out your exam later.”

  As I stand there debating my next move, Anya enters, confirming the request is legit. Her face, which is usually an open book, reveals nothing. My heart skips a beat. What could be so important she’s pulling me out of a final exam?

  I give myself a mental shake. Why am I even arguing? I should be grateful for the reprieve because, now that I’ve seen the exam, there is no way I’m going to pass. Not today anyway. I scoop up my bag and exam and beat feet to Schmidt’s desk where I drop the incomplete pages. I follow Anya into the hall without a word. Whatever this is, it’s serious.

  We make our way through the halls, the silence shattered only by the echo of our heels meeting the polished hardwood floor. Two right turns later and I’m convinced we are headed for the main entrance. Definitely not a good sign.

  My suspicions are confirmed when we reach the main lobby. Anya opens the heavy wooden door to reveal a midnight-blue Ford Explorer idling in the driveway. There’s a meaty-looking vamp standing guard. He gives me a once-over, and I do the same to him.

  Like the blonde, he wears a surly expression, and although I can’t see his eyes behind the dark sunglasses he wears, I know without a doubt they are cold and hard. His dark hair is cropped short, and he has a tattoo climbing his neck that I can’t quite make out. He’s dressed all in black. Black boots, black jeans, black T-shirt stretched to its limits across his massive biceps. He has a holster at his waist and a big-ass knife strapped to his thigh. Either these two have just come from a Hells Angels convention, or they’re Linkuri. My money is on the latter, and that has my curiosity piqued.

  “Get in.” The blonde tips her head at the waiting vehicle. Mistaking my silence for obedience, she turns to Anya and thanks her for her assistance.

  “Yeah, I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

  Miss Bossy Pants shifts her attention from Anya and levels her stony glare my way. Anya shrugs as if to say, “I told you so.” Not exactly the vote of confidence I was looking for, but I stand my ground.

  “We’re wasting time.”

  I give her an icy glare of my own. I am definitely not getting in that truck without an explanation. She growls in frustration, but eventually relents.

  “My name is Alex, and that,” she says, acknowledging the meathead leaning against the SUV, “is my partner, Vincent. Michael DeVanie sent us.”

  “You’re here on behalf of the New York coven?” I ask, unsure why DeVanie would be sending Linkuri for me. I’ve only met the guy once. He seemed nice enough, but it’s not like we have ongoing business. “Why?”

  “Look, we don’t have a lot of time. You need to get in that Explorer right now.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask, panic rising in my throat like bile, thick and sour. Something is very, very wrong. “I can’t leave now. I have finals. And what about my stuff? This is crazy. I need to speak with my uncle.”

  “What part of ‘we’re leaving’ don’t you understand?” Alex asks, planting a hand on her hip. She’s losing her patience. No surprise there. I have that effect on people.

  “Look, Alex,” I say, raising my hands and showing her my palms in what I hope is the universal sign for totally cool and nonthreatening. “You’re kind of freaking me out here. My friends are here. Are they in danger?”

  Alex doesn’t miss a beat. “Only as long as you’re here.”

  “I have to warn them,” I argue. She can’t seriously think I’m just going to abandon them to… whatever it is that’s coming.

  “Look, Katia,” she says, mocking me with a dangerous smile. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I prefer the easy way all day long, but it’s up to you. Vincent is always up for a little tussle.”

  He grunts his affirmation. Guess he’s not big on words. Any other day, he’d be my kind of guy.

  “Ha!” I challenge them, posturing, despite the realization that I’m outnumbered and quite possibly outmatched. And this is why I’ll never be in politics, I remind myself. Most days I have more bravado than actual common sense. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “So the rumors are true then.” Alex studies me with a raised brow. It’s as though she’s seeing me for the first time.

  I lift my chin defiantly, refusing to yield.

  “You’re a spoiled rotten pain in the ass.”

  Anya snickers behind her hand. We both ignore her.

  “You want to keep your friends safe?” Alex continues, her gaze boring through me as though she’s assessing my intentions. “You put as much distance between them and yourself as possible. Now.”

  “I’m not unreasonable,” I say, doing my best to keep the edge from my voice, “but you can’t seriously expect me to just jump in that SUV without an explanation. Tell me what’s going on, and I’ll go with you.”

  “We’re not exactly sure,” Alex admits, running a hand through her hair and tugging her ponytail. Uncomfortable is probably not a look she wears often. She’s hedging. There’s something she doesn’t want to tell me. “It may be nothing.”

  “So this is precautionary, then?”

  “DeVanie will fill you in on the plane,” Alex assures me. “Just get in the truck, be quiet, and keep your head down.”

  “On the plane? Where are we going?”

  “New York.” Alex takes a step toward the Explorer, as if assuming I’ll follow. “You’ll be safe there. For now.”

  Vincent opens the back door of the SUV and holds it open for me. “Get in the back and stay down.”

  “Katia, please,” Anya says, weighing in for the first time. Worry creases her brow, and her touch is feather light on my arm. “Everything is going to be fine, but you need to go with them now. There’s no time to waste.”

  I trust Anya implicitly. If she wants me to do this, I will, even if it goes against every fiber of my being to run. I pull her in for a quick hug, wrapping my arms around her delicate frame.

  “Be safe.”

  Chapter Three

  Lying on the back seat, it becomes painfully obvious that Vincent wasn’t kidding when he told me to stay down. The one time I dared sit up, they bit my head off. Talk about a united front. It doesn’t matter, though. My mind is reeling. I need to understand what’s happening. It must be the Order, but what would they be doing at Crossroads and why would they want me? To get to Aldo?

  I take a deep breath and try to relax as a million unpleasant and bloody scenarios race through my brain. I hope I’ve made the right choice, that I haven’t put my friends in danger. It’s not like I have many to start with, and the last thing I want is for them to be at risk because of me. Unable to help myself, I glare at Alex. Not that she notices. She’s staring out the front window. To be fair, I’m sure she’s focused on her assignment, which apparently includes keeping me safe. But still. Talk about a stone wall. She’s given me nothing but fear, and I kind of hate her for it. I hate being afraid, of losing c
ontrol.

  Patience, I coach myself. The airport is a short ride, and surely Michael will be more forthcoming. I take a deep breath and count to ten. Everything will be fine. I cling to the notion like a lifeline.

  Fifteen minutes into our ride, Vincent breaks the silence with a single word, the muscles of his arms and shoulders going rigid. “Alex.”

  I’ve already guessed that she’s the senior partner, but this confirms my hunch.

  “I see it. Be cool,” she orders, her words cold and velvety at the same time. Although she continues to gaze out the passenger window, seemingly with little interest in the passing traffic, I can’t miss the unmistakable sound of a round being chambered.

  We have company. Fear grips me. I’m trapped in this truck, I have no idea what’s going on or who’s after us, and I have no weapon. Hardly an ideal situation for a control freak like me. I am entirely dependent on Alex and Vincent, and I don’t like it. Not. One. Bit.

  The vehicle shakes with the force of… one, two, three cars passing in the opposite direction. They’re heading for Crossroads. There’s nothing else on this road. My heart slams in my chest, threatening to explode leaving only a pulpy mess on the pristine leather seat.

  Vincent’s eyes flash in the rearview mirror. “We’re clear.”

  Alex nods.

  “Three cars,” Vincent muses. “Maybe a dozen or fifteen vamps?”

  “Too many for us,” Alex warns, casting him a dark look. “Besides, they’re not our concern. We got what we came for.”