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

by C. J. Ellisson

Jon winks. “You’re catching on. If she thinks I’m with someone more powerful than her, I will make a more tempting conquest.”

  “Jesus,” I say with disgust. “You people are more animals than I give you credit for.”

  The young werewolf walks away, laughter ringing out on the night air. “And you’re just figuring this out now?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Jon

  Despite the crazy bitch’s threat to find the killer or else she’d rat out Dria, I’m taking a chance coming back here so soon. Magdelena probably expects me to fall at her feet in my eagerness to help clear her name. Slip into line like all her packmates have with her dictatorship-like rule. I’ve got to make her work for our help a bit more.

  The sounds and smells of the bar wrap around me as I step inside. Old, stale beer—which, truth be told, often smells like vomit—smoke, and body musk, which is a unique blend of werewolf pheromones, anxiety, and frustration with daily work responsibilities. I don’t sense any underlying fear, or agitation that could be associated with the recent killings. And unless someone here is responsible, they’ll have no idea about the latest vampire death Viv and Rafe just discovered.

  I stride to the bar, thankful the same bartender is on duty again tonight. “Hey, Manny. Is Magdelena in? I’d like to talk with her.”

  He smiles, but it’s not a warm one, more of one filled with condescension. “She told us to expect you.” He motions with his head. “Go on back.”

  Weaving through the tables, I take a moment to make eye contact with any Weres looking my way. It’s a motley lot at best. I see flickers of curiosity in some gazes, resentment in others, and a few break away and look down too quickly for me to discern more. Could Magdelena be telling me the truth that a large part of her pack wants to blame her?

  I shake my head. If so, I can’t sense it among the ones here tonight.

  Striding into the back hall, I pause to knock on her door and don’t wait for a response, turning the knob and pushing the door open at once. The pretty werewolf sits behind her desk, eyes on the slim computer monitor in front of her.

  She glances up as I enter, her eyes flicking to the chair in front of her desk. “Why don’t you come on in, cowboy. Take a seat.” Her lips turn up in a soft smile of invitation. Very quickly her nostrils flare, and a look of distaste crosses her face. Good, she’s scented Vivian.

  “You do know that not all Americans are cowboys, right?” I say while lowering into the unyielding seat. I don’t like that she’s put me in a small chair and herself in a position of power behind the desk, but I’ll stay here for the moment while it suits my needs.

  Magdelena’s smile broadens, showing me her teeth—which is either a sign of aggression or she’s found my response funny. God, I hate figuring out werewolf shit. It takes way more effort than I’d care to admit.

  Guilt creeps in, teasing me with its cold and uncomfortable touch. Can I really seduce her when I’m falling for Candy?

  Can you afford not to when she could teach you a very valuable skill?

  I block out the voice in my head, aware that it’s not Vivian, but my own conscience.

  “I know you’re not all cowboys. I just love the imagery and felt you fit the word. Rough around the edges, confident swagger… all you’re missing is a sidearm and a Stetson.” She folds her hands on the desk, focusing all of her attention on me. “You’ve returned to help me find the real killer, yes?”

  “I’ve come back to learn more. I’m not sure how much help I can be on my own, but thought we could pool resources.”

  “Pool resources? As in you have useful information I might need? That would be an interesting trick since you just arrived yesterday.” She tilts her head. “Maybe your vampire friend has tapped into the local seethe and they want to know more about our petty issues? That group loves to live in their ivory tower and look down on the rest of us.”

  “I agree. The vampire community often shuts out the rest of the supernatural, preferring to be insular and protect their own.”

  Her perusal turns speculative. “And your vampire lover allows you to voice such opinions? I smell her on you—but you haven’t had sex with her recently.”

  “No, we haven’t,” the lie I have a relationship with Vivian tripping easily from my lips. I smile, a cocky grin full of promise. “She’s not here now, is she? My opinions are my own.” I wink. “And we’re not exclusive.”

  Her earlier observations about vampires in their ivory towers triggers an urge for me to speak about my dream to unite packs all over the world, but I refrain from saying anything. Especially considering it’s her skill I’d like to exploit to bring them together.

  “Let’s get down to business,” I say. “I need to see the crime scene pictures—or at least talk to someone. We need something to start on to connect the deaths and draw correlations.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. But don’t hold your breath. The police here move at their own pace, not like your American TV shows where everything happens instantly after the crime.”

  “You like to watch American police dramas?”

  “Of course. You’ve witnessed our city’s obsession with the Simpson’s, have you not?” she says with a grin. “The rest of the world, including me, feels the same way about NCIS.”

  “When I first visited the city, years ago, I thought the local bars serving Duff beer from Mo’s was hysterical.” I smile at the memory before getting back on track. “Okay, so your cops are slower, and we might not get any pictures.” I run a hand through my hair. “Can you tell me where the victims were found? I might be able to pick up a scent or follow a trail.”

  “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that already? The witches wouldn’t let us anywhere near where their coven member was beaten. They guard their barrio carefully. The scent trail from the man killed yesterday led nowhere. It’s as if the creature appeared and disappeared into thin air. And I’d never smelled the attacker before. I have no idea what did it. But I can tell you it’s not human.”

  Interesting. “Isn’t the fact there was a scent trail at all, and it wasn’t yours, enough to clear your name with your pack?”

  Disgust twists her mouth, followed quickly by disappointment. “I’ve found in this case the facts don’t seem to matter to those filled with hate. The men either resent my rule or want to bend me to their will so they can rule by my side. The women,” she lifts one shoulder, “they stay quiet for the most part, unwilling to speak out against the stronger men in the pack.”

  “So they’re essentially using the recent killings as a way to bring you down. No real motivation on their end to find out who’s behind the deaths.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I bet they’d change their tune if a werewolf was murdered.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Relax. How could it be? We’ve already established I arrived after the witch died. I mentioned it because I have news on another killing, one that hasn’t made the media rounds yet.” Before she can leap to the incorrect conclusion that it was a Were who was murdered, I say, “And it may bring the vampires out of their ivory tower.”

  “Are you saying a vampire has been killed?”

  I rise and come around her desk, crowding her personal space as I lean a hip on the corner. “Yes. I am. So far you’ve got a witch, a human, and a vampire dead—all in different, but close proximity, locations around the city. The way to finding who’s responsible is to find how they are all linked, if at all, and why.”

  “You’re saying you don’t think they were random victims, but chosen for a reason?”

  “It’s a possibility. Unless they are all victims of being in the wrong place at the right time. Which is plausible, but I’d still like to focus on finding a link first. Can you tell me what you know about how the witch died? What her wounds were like? ‘Beaten to death’ is pretty vague.”

  “My source in the M.E.’s office said she suffered multiple contusions to the head, no other injuries note
d. No claw wounds like the victim from last night. There were no bite marks. I don’t think it was a vampire, although it could have been, and obviously the local coroner would never have considered it anyway.”

  “Except in self-defense, I’ve never heard of a vampire killing a human and leaving all the blood untouched. How did the medical examiner rule the case?”

  “Death by exsanguination. She bled out from her head wounds.”

  “And what about the victim from last night? You mentioned the injuries looked different than a werewolf’s claws. Any idea what made them?”

  “No, and I smelled that crime scene myself. It was no Were.”

  “What do you think it could have been?”

  “I have no idea. That’s why I asked for your help.” She reaches over and runs a hand up my thigh. “I was hoping you’d have seen something like this from home, maybe have an idea?”

  I grunt, but don’t push her hand away. “I’m from Alaska. And before that, I spent a year in Canada. Neither place is a hot bed for supernatural killings.” I think about all the recent deaths we’ve had at the resort. “Okay, let me rephrase that. Neither place has exposed me to non-werewolf or non-vampire fatalities.”

  Her hand creeps higher, her intent no longer questionable. “We could make this arrangement beneficial to us both. I can think of a way…”

  I smile, the grin not quite meeting my eyes. “You mean a nicer way, something physical—as in, instead of you blackmailing me into helping, or you’d reveal my vampire’s resting place to the supes in the area?”

  She looks away, a shy smile on her lips. “Oh, that. Sometimes I speak before thinking things through all the way.”

  I nudge her shoulder with mine. She grants me another timid smile, almost like she’s unsure if her advances would be rebuked or welcome.

  “I think we can come to terms we’re both… satisfied with.”

  Magdelena straightens and moves between my legs, nestling herself close to my crotch, leaning her hips in to press against me. “Tell me about the vampire victim.”

  She wants to think she’s in control of this interview, that she’s seducing me and taking information in the process. Fine. I’ve got her number. I’ll let her lead this scenario and I’ll get what I want out of it, too.

  “Not until you show me that magical hand transformation trick again.”

  She looks up at me through a fringe of dark lashes, and changes both hands resting on my hips, the half-shift almost as fast as my full shift. I reach down to clasp her furry hands, drawing them higher for a better look.

  Her hands are larger than mine, covered in more muscle, and have long deadly claws at the end.

  “Incredible!”

  “Glad you like it. Do you know of another alpha who can change selected parts at will?”

  “No, you’re the first. I’ve heard of it, even seen a full transformation to a hybrid form from afar, but never up close like this.”

  Flush with my look of approval and acceptance, she transforms further, altering her torso and arms. She expands before my eyes, stretching her shirt past the limit and ripping the fabric. Hints of fur-covered skin peek through the tears, enticing me to see what she looks like in her full wolfman form.

  “Your physical mastery over your body is impressive.” I emphasize my approval by running my hands up her sides, trailing my fingers below her much higher and fuller breasts. I’m reaching up, as her partial transformation has made her taller than me. “I bet the men in the pack love it as much as I do.”

  She melts within herself, returning to her normal size and shape. “Not exactly, no. I think it intimidates them.” Sadness fills her expression and she turns naked, pain-filled eyes up to me. She comes on something fierce, pouring out the sexual pheromones when it suits her, but inside she’s a lonely woman. Maybe even a little insecure. Unless, of course, she’s playing me, and I have no fucking idea because I suck at spy games.

  I cup her face in my hands and lean close. “It takes a strong man to handle an even stronger woman.”

  Our lips touch in a soft caress. I block out all thoughts of Candy and what my actions may mean to the two of us. It’s safe to assume if I were a spy, I’d have no problems seducing an enemy and returning home to my real life at the end of the mission.

  But I’m not a spy. And she’s not an asset. This is not some game I’m playing. My heart burns in my chest, uncomfortable with what I need to do. This feels wrong. With no honor.

  She’s a fragile woman trying to lead a bunch of Weres who don’t like or respect her—her only option to rule them with fear and brute force.

  Her pointed tongue traces my bottom lip, asking me to open. I part my lips, sympathy and warmth easing the fist in my chest. I can do this. I can kiss her and turn my mind off. Her questing tongue duals with mine, darting away to skim over my top teeth.

  My hands roam down her shoulder blades, skimming to her lower back and resting there, resisting the burning desire to grab her ass and haul her closer.

  I break the kiss and whisper, “Show me again.” I finger the warm skin between the torn gaps in her shirt. “I want to see you change.” If I’m here to learn a skill, might as well try every chance I can get to watch it up close.

  The lust in her eyes clouds her gaze for a split second, then she focuses on me and smiles, this time with pure joy. “You really want to see? You’re not afraid?”

  “It’s not scary, Magdelena. It’s beautiful, just like you are.”

  Her gaze doesn’t stay on mine, but breaks away to look past my shoulder. I don’t see her lips move in a spell of any kind, but her mind is elsewhere at the moment… perhaps calling the power up from within?

  This time it’s not only her torso that changes, but her head, too. Very quickly, the shorter woman expands to loom over me, her head larger and her elongated jaw filled with sharp teeth. Her skull doesn’t transform into a wolf-human hybrid so much as it becomes a blend of the two, but more human than wolf.

  Eager to convince her the new form doesn’t repel me, I run my hands up to her cheeks again, but don’t pull her down in a kiss like before. This time I stare directly into her eyes and say, “In this body your true self is represented equally. We’re never fully human or fully wolf at any time, even when our outside shape reflects one. Like this, the real you is visible for all to see.”

  Her eyes have bled to a golden-green, looking even more alien in the mash-up of her new face. Her voice is rougher than before, but still obviously hers. “In a free world we could co-exist in our true forms.” She turns her gaze within, seeing and not seeing me again. Very slowly she melts back to fully human. “But we’re not in that world, are we?”

  I sigh and wrap my arms around the fragile woman, so different with her walls down than when she’s posturing in front of her pack. “No, we’re not. And unfortunately, we have a killer to find.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Vivian

  Jon saunters from the bar, a slight swagger in his step. Rafe chuckles under his breath, the sound echoing through the car’s interior. “He’s not looking too worse for the wear. Perhaps Magdelena may have been amiable to his… advances.”

  I stomp down the uncomfortable emotions brewing inside me, the ones I’d rather not take out into the light and examine too closely. Doing so might make me tell him to stand down and not seduce the woman. Which would be bad for the three of us, not to mention Jon’s dream of uniting the packs.

  “As long as he’s in one piece, we can face whatever the situation may bring.”

  Very soon, Jon stands outside the car, pulling open a door and then sliding in. “That was a productive meeting,” he says, closing the door behind him. “She’s agreed to no longer blackmail us and to work together. I think we’re safe for now.”

  Jon fills us in on everything he and Magdelena covered, including the beginnings of him getting closer to her to discover how she transforms.

  “Have you ever encountered something similar in t
he past—two serial killers active in the same community at the same time?” Jon asks.

  “Nope,” I say. “Never. But then again, I was never a cop investigating murders in a large city. I bet they see a dozen murders a month, some connected, most not. As far as the magical connection, I have no idea—witches kept to themselves and so did we. Not enemies, mind you, but we didn’t have cause to work together or have our paths cross often.”

  Rafe changes the topic. “Did you learn anything specific about the alpha’s ability to change form?”

  “I still don’t know how she does it, but I don’t think it’s a trait she was born with. I think she acquired it over time.” He shrugs. “Hopefully I’ll figure it out soon, so I…” Jon breaks off and doesn’t complete his thought.

  A pang of sympathy fills my chest. “So you don’t have to break her heart? I understand, Jon. Really, I do. Sometimes what we do to protect those who matter to us, means we have to hurt others. In a battle or one-on-one fight, the outcome is much clearer: win or die. But when we’re going undercover, exploiting a person’s weaknesses… it can be unsettling to the conscience.”

  Jon stares out the window, his posture and expression revealing nothing. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  Rafe starts the car and pulls away from the curb. “I won’t placate you with inane compliments and a slap on the back. It’s hard. But you do what you have to do to survive.”

  Jon’s face twists into a grimace and I know exactly what he’s thinking, his thoughts projecting clearly to me, like a neon sign. But what if you don’t need to do it to survive? Does that make it better or worse?

  I turn to face front again, watching the streets carefully. It’s not like I expect one of the pedestrians to be murdered, or to be jumpy and do something that indicates they could be a killer. Focusing on the mundane, the everyday happenings going on, helps to clear my head of the gruesome death George suffered. He was a nice guy. He deserved a chance to fight back.

  “Where are we going now?” Jon asks.

  Rafe slows the car before turning onto a narrow street. “To Justin’s. He should know exactly when and where the breach in the Tribunal’s wards occurred tonight. And who knows, maybe the ward is sensitive enough to pick up details of who passed and triggered the notification.”