Blood Legacy: Adult Urban Fantasy (The V V Inn Book 5)

by C. J. Ellisson

  His words don’t affect me as they probably should. When I think back upon those dark years, it seems like what I’m remembering happened to another person. “Should I quote a popular song and remind you that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?”

  “Or crazy,” Rafe says with a wicked smile. “Or maybe a little of both.”

  “Seriously, though,” Jon says, “it was dark and depressing. After the first journal, I couldn’t read anymore. I don’t know how you survived to become the person you are.”

  I look away, unwilling to allow any of my past to crowd my mind and drag me back to the edge of darkness again. “I did survive. So let’s move on.”

  “Well, that’s where I read the phrase ‘never turn a witch.’ It was in a section where Mikov explained some rules of existence you’d needed to know as a newly changed vampire.”

  I nod to indicate I understand, but I’m glad I can’t recall the original conversation any longer. I wrote those entries almost twenty years after the events occurred, which was still over five hundred years ago, and I’d rather not revisit them for anything in the world. I look to Rafe, hoping he can change the topic and save me from further discussion of my early years.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Rafe

  I see the expression in Dria’s eyes and on her delicate face. She’s struggling to maintain a hold on the present. Having her slip back into those dark memories would not be good for any of us while we’re in a public place. Not that I think she’d hurt anyone, but if I can spare her pain of any kind I will.

  “Okay,” I say, “now we know where you read it—let’s move on to what we’re going to do next and how we can find more information.”

  Jon looks like he’d like to discuss the journals more, but after a glance at me and Dria he nods once and settles back in his chair, content to let the topic drop for now.

  “Rolando, when we finally find him, might have the answers we need regarding the phrase,” Dria says, her voice steady with no trace of the distress I read in her eyes a moment ago. “Or maybe I can contact someone at the Tribunal and ask.”

  I reach for my wine glass. “Have they been forthcoming with this type information in the past?” I take a sip, examining the small plates stacked on the table, debating to search for more food.

  Dria raises a hand, signaling the waiter for additional plates to be brought. “You know how they are. Some days they will talk to you… other days they shut you out completely.”

  “During my stakeouts, I witnessed the protocols we’ve dealt with for years at the Tribunal abandoned. No one is manning the phones—I called a half a dozen times. Non-vampires are not permitted in the house at night, with the exception of bonded mates. I didn’t seen any blood donors like we saw at the party, either. It’s like the whole place is in lock-down mode, functioning on a skeleton crew under strict orders.”

  The waiter brings six more plates filled with delectable food. Jon reaches for two, saying, “What about Justin? You said you’d tracked where he lives. I think we should start with him.”

  I nod, grabbing two plates for myself, he’s echoing what I’ve been saying all night.

  “I still feel Rolando should be our main target, not the wizard,” Dria says, squirming in her seat. I bet her hunger is rising again, and not the one for blood. I stifle a smile at what that means for me.

  “I agree, darling. Eventually he will be the one we need the most, yes, but maybe Justin can lead us to him.”

  “Why would that bastard care?” my volatile wife hisses. “He was the one who helped them catch me in the first place.”

  I settle a hand over hers, attempting to send calming energy to her. “He did what he was paid to do, having no idea what they planned when taking you. I’ve told you, he was the one who helped me locate you in the underground warren of rooms. I could have searched for hours and never found you before the sun set. And by then I would have been dead.

  “I trust him. Not with my life or yours, but I do trust he won’t deliberately try and sell us out or hurt you again.”

  “Hmph,” Dria mumbles, turning her hand over to clasp mine, her thumb teasing a circle in my palm.

  Jon finishes scarfing down the rest of his food and cleans his mouth with a napkin. “I don’t have much input on what happened before I got here—and based on past experience, I’m inclined to let Vivian trust her gut—but I do agree he sounds like a good person to question.”

  “Well, that’s settled then,” Dria says when I indicate to the waiter we’d like a check. “We’ll visit him first and then see the new digs.” She glances at her watch, horniness making her movements jerky. “Let’s go.”

  I smile, glad she’s able to push past her doubts and go with the majority.

  The quiet hum of the expensive motor idles at the curb before I shut it off. “We’re here.”

  Dria shifts in her seat, her rampant arousal slowly leaking through our connection. She had an extensive internal debate going on while I drove, where she was seriously considering asking Jon to get out and walk so she could ravage me in the new car. The feel of the leather under her hand almost did her in. Damn, it feels good to have her back.

  I smile to myself, glad to have the shoe on the other foot. A little pent up lust will be good for her. I got the distinct feeling before that I missed her more than she missed me. Childish, I know, to be pleased she wants me, but we’re both feeling vulnerable after her close call.

  “Which house is his?” Jon asks, popping his head between the front seats from the back.

  I point to the right, ahead of us. “His house is the blue one with the lime green shutters.” Thanks to the streetlight on the corner, and our excellent night vision, we can make out the colors of the small abode.

  Jon asks, “Are we knocking like civilized visitors, or breaking in and surprising him?”

  Dria arches one dainty brow. “Really? Break into a wizard’s house when he could have the place wired with magical traps and wards? That doesn’t seem like the smartest choice.”

  Before we can decide, his front door opens and Justin’s tall form fills the doorway. He looks our way, unsurprised to see us there. He’s once again dressed all in black, his shoulder length hair looking cleaner than when I last saw him. If I had to cast him in a role, I’d say he looks like a younger, handsomer version of Professor Snape from the Harry Potter movies. But I keep the observation to myself, knowing I’ll get an eye roll from the two I’m with for a movie reference.

  Jon climbs from the car first, ready for action should the wizard cast a spell, and I follow, opening my car door. “Looks like the bugger had detection wards farther out than we bargained for and he knows we’re here.”

  Dria huffs out an impatient breath while exiting the car. “Well, can’t change that now. Let’s go say hello.”

  The three of us walk toward Justin, trying our best to look casual—our hands are empty and none of us are projecting anger or displeasure. Thankfully, he’s able to read our body language and doesn’t bolt for an exit. Then again, who knows whether he would run or not when he’s got the benefit of protective wards at his back.

  “Hi, Justin,” Dria calls once we’re closer. “Do you remember me?”

  He nods, his stoic expression revealing nothing. “Not every day you get tricked into helping abduct a master vampire, so yeah, of course I remember you.”

  “We offer no retaliation, I promise.” Her hands are open, arms spread at her side in a non-threatening gesture. “We came to talk.”

  Justin’s eyes flick to Jon. “He’s new. Don’t recall him from the Tribunal that night.”

  Jonathan tilts his head in acknowledgement, but remains a step or two behind Dria and me to ensure our safety and keep a look out for associates of the wizard we may not know exist.

  “Yes, he is,” Dria admits, but doesn’t expand further. “Would you like to go inside to chat or would you feel safer here on the street?”

  Justin smiles, a lazy ove
r-confident grin if I ever saw one. “Please, join me inside. I have your word you intend no harm?”

  Dria’s answering smile is brittle, allowing no room for humor. “If I did, you’d be dead already.”

  The wizard’s aplomb looks shaken for a second, but he quickly hides it behind a mask of indifference. “Please, come in.” He sweeps open the door behind him and ushers us in with one arm.

  We file in, one at a time, with Dria in the lead. I know she’d prefer to meet any threats head on, protecting us from the worst of whatever might await us. As much as it triggers my own fears, I don’t even bother arguing about her safety or any possible dangers we might be walking into. She’d do whatever the hell she wants anyway.

  Her blasé attitude makes her hard to protect, but I’ve adjusted over the years to recognize I have to let her have her way in matters such as these. Arguing with her in front of someone would undermine not only her authority, it would make me look stupid as she is clearly the strongest of the three of us.

  I pass over the threshold, feeling a tingle run over my skin. Another protection ward perhaps, I’m not sure. The living room beyond appears normal enough, a couch, two chairs, small TV, everything in drab, dark colors. The man obviously likes black. No sign of the magic the wizard wields or items he might use in spell preparation. Then again, what the hell did I expect? A staff of magic or a pointy hat? Maybe a black cat lingering on a cushion? Wait, that’s a witch, right? I shake my head at my fanciful rumination. Need to focus.

  Justin shuts the door behind Jon and proceeds to the center of the room. He motions toward the small grouping of furniture. “Please, take a seat.”

  Jon stays near the entrance, his stance revealing he’s too keyed up to sit, while Dria and I sit on the couch, and the wizard selects a chair facing the door.

  “What brings you to my home? And should I even ask how you found it?”

  Dria nods toward me. “Rafe has been keeping tabs on the comings and goings of anyone associated with the Tribunal. As I’m sure you can imagine, we’re looking for Rolando.”

  Justin tenses in his seat, perhaps drawing the correct conclusion that he led us back to his home, an unwanted occurrence for anyone who wants to maintain privacy from vampires or anyone else in the supernatural community. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

  My deadly wife cocks her head to the side and stares deeply into the wizard’s eyes, “Can’t help us, or won’t?”

  “I assure you, madam vampire, I have no idea where he is. I would help if I could.”

  “And why would you help us?” I ask. “You were helpful weeks ago when you didn’t have to be, and yet you still work for those in charge at the Tribunal.”

  “As far as working for them, I didn’t have a choice in the matter. We’ve got a signed contract. And if I break it, my name in magical security will go down the tubes.” His open expression bespeaks of truth, but only Dria will know for sure if he’s lying. I may be experimenting with learning mind control on the inn’s employees, but I would never attempt to enter a wizard’s head without more practice. If I messed it up, he’d go on the defensive and Dria would be even more annoyed than she already is with what I’ve been attempting on the side.

  Jon speaks up near the door. “So you were hired to set up the wards and protect the vampire’s territory in the city?”

  Justin nods, angling his body to partially face Jon and us at the same time. “I installed wards for danger, magical use, unannounced supernaturals—that one was tricky, had to meet all the vampires in the immediate area and make sure the spell included them. But the wards don’t really cover a ‘territory,’ just the property surrounding the Seat of Darkness. They control the whole city, but that’s too big for me to cast around.”

  “What does that phrase even mean, ‘the Seat of Darkness’?” Jon asks. “I’ve heard it used several times, but no one has clarified.”

  Vivian answers, “It refers to where vampires originated from. No one kept written records thousands of years ago, but when we first organized to form a governing body it was here. There was the highest concentration of vampires living here—long before the city was called Buenos Aires.”

  Jon nods, scoping out the rest of what he can see in the small house, appearing to pay more attention to our surroundings than the three of us.

  “What made you take on the task of helping to catch Vivian?” I revert back to using my wife’s nickname as that is what most everyone has called her for the past century.

  “Same as I told you that night—money. If I had any idea what they were really planning I never would have agreed to the job. Which is exactly why I led you to her when I found you in the underground halls.

  “Coraline was always rather intense. I hadn’t realized her obsession with your wife was borderline crazy until it was too late.”

  “Fair enough,” Dria says. “How deep does your involvement go with the Ancients? Or do you mainly work with underlings?”

  “Coraline was the highest ranking person I worked with, and she was part of the inner circle, as I’m sure you already know.” He lifts his shoulders in a show of nonchalance. “What can I say? I never even saw Rolando involved. I’m just the hired help.”

  “Do you know what he looks like?”

  “Nope. Never met the guy.”

  Dria’s eyes glint. “So he could have been involved in the abduction and you wouldn’t have known?”

  “I guess that’s possible. Coraline handled my security contract. I also met a dude named Lucas and was always supervised by different sentries when I came back to renew the wards.”

  Jon begins an entirely different track of questioning. “What do you know of the recent murder on the news? The one involving an animal attack.”

  Dria glances at the Were, but remains quiet. A tingle of sensation indicates my wife is about to communicate with me telepathically. Let’s see where he’s going with this, love. Maybe he senses something.

  Whatever you say, liebling. I’d just assume any line of questioning could help.

  “Nothing, man.” Justin sits up straighter. “I know the same as you do from the news. Happened a couple of blocks from here, in El Centro I believe. No one I know, I don’t think.”

  He’s lying, she says. He knows something, but I can’t tell what without going deep into his mind.

  Save that for later, I reply. I don’t trust he doesn’t have security measures in place that could reveal your attempts.

  Oh, he does. On that, I’m very sure.

  Jon doesn’t always possess the same degree of subtly that Dria does, and calls Justin on what he sensed. “Your scent changed, Justin. Like you might not be telling us everything you know.”

  Justin clams up, his entire posture indicating he’s said all he’s going to say tonight. “Think what you want. I don’t know of anyone who has the capability to kill so ruthlessly.” Sweat breaks out on his forehead. He looks to my wife. “Except for the city’s deadliest predators. Any chance one of you could be behind it?”

  Dria tilts her heard while answering. “Until I learn more about the attack and the victim, there’s no way I could answer that. But if you’re asking could a vampire kill someone and make it look like an animal attack, then the answer is yes.”

  “I thought so,” the wizard says. “It could easily have been a four-legged supe, too.” He pointedly looks at Jon, making us aware that he does indeed know our companion is a werewolf. Could be the odor. Jon is a musky son of a bitch.

  “Do you know of other large Weres, besides werewolves, in the community?” Dria asks, no longer pretending Jon is human.

  “I’ve heard of a tribe of snake shifters in Brazil, ones that can become as large as anacondas. But the wounds inflicted on that poor guy could never have been made by a snake.”

  Jon pipes in with, “Assuming the perpetrator was in animal form when the killing took place.”

  We’re all quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. A supernatural shifte
r is naturally stronger than an average human. Strong enough to have inflicted deadly, animal-like claw gouges and knife wounds without ever having to change shape.

  Dria smiles, looking like she’s hoping to diffuse the tension in the room. “Good thing we’re not here to solve a crime. What I really need help with is finding Rolando. Think you might be interested?”

  “Me?” Justin’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You barely know me, and I helped them catch you a few weeks ago. Why would you want to hire me?”

  Dria looks deep into his eyes, by my guess she’s attempting to slip into his mind. “Because you’re wearing an amulet more powerful than I’ve ever seen a witch make—and it’s keeping me from controlling your mind.”

  A slow arrogant smirk turns up one corner of the wizard’s mouth. “It’s the only thing keeping you bloodsucking bastards honest. If not, I’d probably never get paid.”

  Jon takes a step closer, one hand raised in a stop motion. “Wait a second. You can’t read his mind, therefore you trust him? Seems counter intuitive.”

  Dria nods. “You bet. If I can’t get into his head, then that means neither can the others. And his motivations for striking a deal are more clear cut… more pure.”

  “I bet I can guess what his motivations would be,” I say, running a hand over Dria’s knee. “Money—and lots of it.”

  Justin’s look, if possible, becomes more smug. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Oh, please,” Jon grouses. “You’re like a prom date up for bid, willing to put out when the magic number is reached.”

  “Jon! A little decorum, please.” Dria returns her attention to the wizard. “Can you help me find where his non-Tribunal home is?”

  “You’re asking me to find and reveal a vampire’s daytime resting location, and one of the inner circle at that?” Justin shakes his head. “I’m not so sure that’s a smart job to take on—for any price.”