Blood Wars: Book 4 (The Talisman Series)

by Brenda Pandos

  “It’s all set. You’ll be taken by escort in an hour.”

  “Taken where?” Phil jumped to his feet.

  “To Horace’s.” Nicholas tilted his head as if to pacify him.

  Phil’s worried look swung toward me. “Don’t do it, Julia.”

  By his use of my real name, and not my pet name, I knew he was serious. Dead serious.

  “Thanks for stopping by,” I said quickly, trying to avoid a fight. “And thanks for… saving me.”

  Phil blew out a breath when he passed Nicholas. “Remember who saved her, man. Who saves her every time.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I was there when you were picking daisies. Now you’re gift wrapping her and giving her to the enemy. That’s what I’m saying.”

  “Please, stop,” I begged.

  Sam tugged Phil’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  Phil turned to me, sadness in his eyes. “Your get out of jail free cards are running out. Be careful.” He clicked his teeth before he walked out the door.

  “What was that about?” Nicholas asked.

  “Nothing,” I said, but my stomach began to ache. What if Phil was right? What if Cain was the devil?

  CHAPTER TEN

  Wearing silky pajamas, I sat nestled in the covers of a bed so huge, I could lay sideways and my toes wouldn’t dangle over the edge. Everything screamed luxury, from the drapes to the elegant furniture to the pictures on the walls and knickknacks on the dressing table. Yet the creepy sensation that I was making a mistake wouldn’t leave me.

  During the extraction, as I called it, Mr. Cruor’s secret service whisked me out of the hospital through the basement. To my surprise, Mr. Cruor’s house was far bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside, and my room, as they called it, was larger than our entire bottom floor of my parents’ house.

  I combed my fingers through my hair again, feeling the greasy grime, then lingered on the prickly stitches on my forehead. Would it leave a scar?

  “Bangs will cover it,” a sweet voice said from the doorway. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”

  I sighed. Bangs? Heck, no. Not after I’d worked so hard to grow my hair.

  “Rachel,” I almost said and caught myself. “As good as to be expected, Raquel.”

  “Feel up for some tests?”

  She walked over, wearing the standard issue of Mr. Cruor’s staff for ladies: black heels, a black pencil skirt and white blouse, covered with a pristine lab coat. Today she had her hair wrapped in a tight bun.

  She studied my hand, then clucked her tongue. “Why didn’t they leave your shunt in?”

  I ran my fingers over the bandage where the IV had been plugged into me. “What kind of tests?”

  “The usual.” She flipped over my arm, tied a tourniquet, and prepped the soft underbelly of my arm. The alcohol felt extra cool.

  “What does that—? Ouch.” I winced as the needle pricked me. I marveled at my magical blood oozing into the tube. It would have been otherwise painless, but her hand shook. “That hurts.”

  “Sorry.” She switched hands. “I need to make sure you can travel, and just other things.”

  I didn’t like the words other things. “I should charge by the ounce.” A giggle slipped out at my inappropriate joke. Raquel AKA Rachel didn’t crack a smile. She took her blood drawing very seriously apparently.

  I pinched my lips together as the silence ticked on. “How long have you worked for Mr. Cruor?”

  “Oh, a while now. I’ve lost track.”

  “He’s a good boss?”

  Her eyes flicked up to mine. “The best.”

  My cheeks heated. She sounded like a jilted lover or something. Was there trouble in paradise? I decided to stop asking questions.

  “I’m here,” Mimi sung while pushing in a white cart. “Miss me?”

  “Almost done,” Raquel said plainly.

  Her chilly personality didn’t faze Mimi as she pulled out a variety of brushes and combs.

  Raquel capped the last vial of my blood and dropped it in her pocket. She took out the syringe, and pressed a cotton ball to stop the blood. “Hold this.”

  I accidentally bumped into her weak hand and she sucked in a breath between her teeth. “Careful.”

  “Sorry.” I picked up the cotton ball she’d dropped and placed it on my arm to catch the waterfall of blood. She tossed the tape at me.

  “That’ll be fifty thousand,” I said lightheartedly as I tried to maneuver the tape dispenser.

  Raquel glared at me. “Why so cheap?”

  I tried not to react. I’d purposely shot high. Was my blood worth more? She smirked at my silence, helped me rip off a piece of tape, and packed up her supplies, all the while favoring her right hand. Something peeked out from her cuff. A bandage? Did she hurt herself?

  Raquel stiffly grabbed her things, walked out and closed the door.

  “Frosty much?” Mimi said as she turned to me. “You’d think Horace took away her stock options.”

  I squinted in confusion as Mimi started mixing together color in a bowl. “What’s that?”

  “Oh, honey.” She waved her hand. “Just wait till I’m finished with you.”

  An hour later, she’d dyed my hair black and added in some extensions for body.

  “What do you think?” Mimi asked after handing me a mirror.

  I blinked in surprise. “It’s different.”

  “It’s fabulous. Now we pack.”

  “Pack?” I lifted my brows as she pulled open the closet. Inside were two levels of clothing, jammed packed with every color imaginable. Mimi started pulling out outfit after outfit. Every one still had tags on them. “Where did all this come from?”

  “Me, who else? I’m Horace’s personal shopper. He said you’d be joining us, so I went to work early. Good thing I did. We haven’t much time till New York. Though, I plan to take you shopping there, too.”

  “Shopping?” I blinked at her as she rolled out a suitcase. This was her job? And should I be worried at how presumptuous Mr. Cruor had been?

  “Oh, heck, yeah.” She smiled evilly as she held up differing outfits in my direction, as if to compare how they’d look on me. “I’ll have to rethink things now that your hair is dark.”

  “I have clothes,” I said. “I’m sure my mom will bring them with her when she arrives.”

  Mimi froze and wrinkled her nose. “Heck, no. You can’t wear anything from the past. New identity and new look. Have you thought of what name you’ll choose?”

  I sucked in a startled breath. “Name?”

  “You need a new identity. I like… Miranda. Or, Lexy is sexy.”

  “I like Julia.”

  Mimi tsked. “I know you do. But you can’t go by that name anymore. If they find out—” She dragged her finger over her throat. “It’s curtains, as they say.”

  I leaned into the mound of pillows behind me and groaned. This wasn’t what I’d bargained for.

  “Oh, stop it. This is going to be hecka fun. You’re going to live the life of a celebrity. People would kill for this chance.”

  Kill. The word hit hard.

  New hair. New clothes. New name. New life.

  “And what’s keeping you from just… turning me over to them?” I asked sheepishly, studying the black locks tickling my shoulder. “I’m sure they could offer you more money.”

  “What do you think I am?” She blew out a noisy breath. “Geez, Jules. I have a conscience. Besides, I like you too much to sell you out.”

  Like me too much? She barely knew me.

  Mimi finished packing my bag and zipped it up. “I need to get some toiletries. What’s your fav? Let me guess. Sephora?”

  I shrugged. “Sure.”

  “I knew it.” She grinned widely and rolled the bag into the hall. “Turn that frown upside down. We’re going to New York, baby.”

  The door closed softly with a click, and I smiled. This did sound fun. I’d never been on a shopping sp
ree before.

  I swung my feet over the side of the bed and curled my toes in the lush carpet when the urge to pee hit me. I’d had a catheter in the hospital and things down south weren’t returning to normal yet.

  Limping stiffly to a bathroom bigger than my old bedroom, I studied my reflection in the mirror. The dark hair would take some getting used to. My makeup, though, never looked more spectacular. Having Mimi around did have its perks. Maybe I should count my blessings.

  I could handle the good life until things returned to normal—I stopped the thought and reminded myself of the truth. Things were never getting back to normal. Not now. Not ever.

  I did my business and exited the bathroom. The eerie quiet of the room stole into me. How could I sleep here all alone?

  Limping over to the bedroom door, I pressed my ear to the wood, then turned the handle. It clicked open. I pulled the door open and peeked my head out.

  “Need something?” a gruff voice asked.

  I startled and jumped. Pain tore through my sore muscles. “Don’t do that.”

  “You should stay in bed. Doctor’s orders.”

  I scowled at the beefy man dressed in a black shirt that looked too small for his bulging biceps. “I can’t find my phone.”

  He stared down at me from his six-foot-infinity stature. “And how is that my problem?”

  I put my hand on my hip. “It’s your problem because I can’t call for help if I need it.”

  He motioned to the intercom on the wall. “You have one exactly like this by your bed. Use it.”

  I peered into the room, but the side table was too far away to see if an intercom actually existed. “Good to know.”

  “Go on.” When I didn’t obey his command, he gestured for me to go inside. I continued our engaging staring contest instead. He ran his hand through his dark hair. “You need to go back to bed.”

  “Actually, I’d like to walk around and loosen up these muscles—”

  “You can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “There are rules.”

  “Oh really?” My brow lifted. “A rule against me walking around?”

  “Something like that,” another voice said. Mr. Cruor rounded the corner and came into view. “But it looks like I’ve second guessed your need for recovery time off your feet.”

  I blinked at him, stunned because he looked like he wasn’t in the same accident as me. Was Phil right?

  “Love what Mimi has done to your hair,” he finished.

  “Thanks,” I think. “Where’s my mom and dad?”

  “They’re on their way. They wanted to check in with the contractor first.”

  “Contractor?” I scrunched up my forehead.

  “Yes, Julia,” he said. “I suggested they leave the remodeling to the professionals. We have important work to do—”

  I pulled my chin inward. Mimi said shopping.

  “Okay, I have work to do, and since you’re better, we no longer need to delay our trip to New York,” he finished.

  “Oh.” I relaxed, when a wicked thought popped in my head. “I’ll go on one condition.”

  Mr. Cruor’s right eyebrow twitched before he managed to grace me with a smile. “And what’s that?”

  I sucked in a deep breath. It was high time he knew my expectations. This project, as he called it, centered around my body and my blood, and I’d be the CEO of it. Period. And my first order of business was a little house cleaning.

  “Katie stays home.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Really?”

  “I don’t trust her.”

  “I thought she was one of your closest friends.”

  “She was, but I draw the line when she tells that nosey group of girls in your history class that she’s going to New York on my dime.” I let the words hang for a second, gauging his response. How Katie knew about the surprise trip before I did was something he needed to explain. He wasn’t a dummy, but I needed to prove I wasn’t one either.

  The accusation clicked and he sighed. “I see. Well, you’re right. That changes things.”

  “How long have you been planning this New York trip?” I asked.

  “I go all the time, Julia. I have business there, and my own plane. I’d wanted to reward the volunteers with something fun—but then the incident happened.”

  “Oh…” I’d assumed wrong, again.

  “But if it makes you feel more comfortable, then I’ll have her stay home.”

  I bit my lip, all my desire to gloat had vanished. Even still, she’d betrayed me. “That’s what I’d like.”

  “It’s done.” He nodded to Beef Cakes. “We leave in an hour. Notify my pilot.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Mr. Cruor turned on his heels and limped away. Apparently he hadn’t escaped being hurt.

  I stepped into my room and closed the door to a crack. Beef Cakes grunted in satisfaction and within a few seconds, I heard him mumbling something further down the hall.

  As quickly as I could manage, I slipped out of my room and hid around the corner. In front of me was one of the two entrances to the sprawling staircase that circled around and met in the middle on the ground floor. I tiptoed over, careful to stay out of view of the foyer and listened for a moment.

  Voices echoed in the halls below, but I couldn’t make out who or what they were saying. Then the front doors flew open, followed by arguing. I moved out of sight and sucked in a breath, frozen for a second

  “Let me go!” a guy yelled—Phil. “I said, let me go!”

  “What’s going on here?” Slide said.

  “I found him trespassing in the yard, sir.” His husky voice was strained.

  “I’m not trespassing. I’m a friend of Julia’s. Just ask her!”

  “Julia who?” Slide said with a small chuckle. “Take him to the study.”

  “Julia!” Phil yelled before he grunted.

  “Let him go!” I limped to the stairs. “How dare you!”

  Phil was doubled over, holding his stomach. He cursed under his breath. “You’ll pay for that.”

  A look-a-like to Beef Cakes peered up at me annoyed. “You’ll have to take this up with Cruor.”

  He pulled Phil, who was still gasping for air, into the study and slammed the door.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Clutching onto the banister for dear life, I tried to rush down the stairs. Halfway down, I clutched my sides and choked in air.

  Raquel appeared and slipped into the study with her black bag. I tried to say something, but wheezed instead. Why was she going inside?

  After a few more minutes, I finally made it to the ground floor. Stars sparkled across my vision, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I placed my hand on the knob and turned. It was locked.

  “Open up!” I pounded on the wooden frame as sweat beaded my forehead. No one came to the door. “I mean it, open up!”

  “Julia!” Mr. Cruor chastised. “You should be resting.”

  Stepping backward, I held onto the knob to stay upright and tried to meet his gaze. My brain and feet refused to cooperate with one another, making me dizzy.

  “I want inside.”

  He moved forward as if to catch me, and I held up my hand.

  “I mean it. No more blood if you don’t open these doors now!”

  His brow pitched, but he produced the keys anyway. “You don’t need to threaten me. Of course you can go inside.”

  The door clicked open. I pushed past him. Phil lay lifeless on the leather couch with slotted eyes and a goofy grin. Raquel sat next to him, blocking my view of what she was doing. She peered quickly over her shoulder and frowned, then put something in her black bag.

  I stumbled forward to see what exactly, but not before Mr. Cruor took ahold of my arm before I splatted face first on the floor. “Now that you’ve seen what’s going on, you must rest in your room. I’ll handle this.”

  “No.” I shrugged off his grip and tried to move forward.

  Raquel pocketed a
vial filled with red liquid. She looked to Mr. Cruor, nodded, then stood up and left the room.

  “Ju-u-u-u-lia,” Phil slurred. “Meet, Dumb and Dumber.” He pointed to Mr. Steroids who’d brought him in earlier and my BFF Slide.

  “What did she do to him?” I hissed.

  “Nothing.” Slide had a bruise above his eyebrow, probably where he’d smacked the girl’s locker room floor when Sam clocked him over the head. But I couldn’t tease him about that now.

  “Phil?” I asked stepping forward.

  “She put something in my arm. Something pretty nice.” He laughed, then closed his eyes and started snoring.

  I slumped onto the couch next to him and touched his damp forehead. “This is… outrageous!”

  “My hero.” He clasped my hand with his and opened one eye. “I’ve always loved you,” he whispered.

  My eyes rounded at the confession, and I pulled my hand away.

  “I swear,” Slide said to Mr. Cruor. “She just took his blood, that’s all.”

  “Thank you, Donald.” Mr. Cruor directed him to the door. “I’ll take care of this now.”

  As the two goons shuffled out of the room, I stood on shaky legs and tried my hardest to sound fierce.

  “I’ve had enough. This has gone too far. You can’t just do this to people.”

  “Do what?”

  “Drug them. Force them to…” My voice trailed off.

  “Force them to what? He trespassed—”

  “Don’t deny Raquel drugged him.” I put my hands on my hips. “He wasn’t like this a minute ago.”

  “That’s a pretty big accusation without proof. From the looks of it, Mr. D’Elia in fact is intoxicated.”

  “You and I both know that’s not true.” Mr. Cruor needed a warning sign on his fence that said: Beware of the evil doctor. “I’m calling the cops!”

  Phil snort-laughed and then I remembered I didn’t have my phone.

  Raquel returned. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. From his sample, I’ve found he’s quite intoxicated. Point one-four-four to be exact.”

  I didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t sound good.

  Mr. Cruor sighed. “Maybe we should let the authorities assist. You might want to remain out of sight though, Julia, considering everything that’s happened.”