Sanguinary (Night Shift Book 1)

by Margo Bond Collins

  “Who are they?” I whispered to Reese.

  “Lane Boyd and his Claimed. He’s Mendoza’s second-in-command.”

  The group stopped in front of us, closer than the rest of the vampires but still maintaining a slight distance.

  Mendoza nodded to each of us. “Reese. Cami. You made quite a stir here tonight.”

  Reese didn’t bat an eye. “Sorry if we disturbed you,” he drawled.

  “Not at all, not at all. The performance was quite…interesting.”

  Performance?

  I was going to curl up and die right there.

  “Well, thank you.” Reese grinned and spared a glance for me.

  Boyd’s eyes narrowed. “And this is your usual experience?”

  “I like to think it’s different every time.” Reese put his arm around my waist and pulled me close. “Every time is…special.”

  “I see.” Boyd turned his back on us and muttered something to Mendoza, then walked away. The crowd melted before him. His bloodgiver trailed along behind, looking for all the world like a lost puppy.

  Mendoza smiled and rubbed his hands together. Neither of those things made me feel especially safe. He was far too predatory for my comfort. “If you’ll excuse me?” he said with a smile. “I have an announcement to make, and then I would like to speak with you again.”

  “Of course.” Reese smiled back.

  Mendoza turned to the crowd of vampires and announced, “If you please, I would like to invite everyone to join me in a celebratory drink.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. I didn’t want to celebrate anything. I wanted to go home and try to figure out what had happened to me. For one thing, it’s not like me to have sex in a semipublic place. Much less with a vampire.

  Between Reese’s possessive stance and Mendoza’s celebratory attitude, I was beginning to wonder if this had been choreographed, maybe as part of Reese’s plan to make his way into the Sanguinary.

  How much of our power swap back there had really been my idea?

  Or had Reese and Mendoza manipulated me into doing what they had planned all along?

  The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach suggested that I might not want to examine the answers to those questions too closely.

  The vampire crowd slowly dispersed—with many glances back at us. When the majority of them had turned their backs on us, I clutched Reese’s elbow and whispered in his ear, “Get our invitation to the ball so I can get out of here.” As an afterthought, I added, “Please.”

  “We really do need to stay for Mendoza’s announcement.” Reese led me slowly toward the bar, and the vampires in our path melted out of our way as if by magic.

  “What just happened?” I hissed.

  “I’m not entirely sure,” Reese said.

  “Do you feel any different?” I asked.

  “Not really. Do you?”

  “No. But those vamps in there sure were acting like you were the Second Coming.”

  He laughed out loud. “I think most of them would be a lot more dismayed by the Second Coming.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But you know what I mean.”

  His brow furrowed, the smile fading from his face. “Yeah, I do. We need to try to figure this out.”

  “We need someplace private.”

  He looked at me speculatively. “Would you feel comfortable going back to my place?”

  I raised my eyebrows at him. “After what happened in there? I don’t think going to your place is going to bother me.”

  He nodded. “After Mendoza’s announcement.”

  Before we got to the bar, though, a scuffle at the front entrance caught my attention.

  Not my problem. I started to look away, but the crowd between me and the door cleared for a moment and I got a look at who was involved in the disturbance.

  It was Chandler, the FBI agent who’d shown up at my door two days ago.

  Oh, hell. I guess we didn’t really lose that tail, after all.

  He could blow my cover with a single word, and all this would have been for nothing.

  This issue was my problem after all.

  I spun around to Reese. “Check out what’s happening in the entryway,” I said.

  He craned his neck to see above the crowd. “Damn,” he said.

  “My thoughts exactly. Shall we go?”

  But Reese was already ahead of me. As he brushed past Mendoza, he murmured, “I’ll deal with this.” He got to the entrance first, and by the time I caught up with him, he was already talking.

  “No, he’s with me,” Reese was saying. “Agent, I believe you were trying to see me?”

  Chandler stood with his back against a wall, one hand holding out a badge, the other reaching into his jacket, probably for a stake. I made a negating motion down by my waist, hoping the agent would see the flick of my wrist and interpret it correctly. His eyes flickered from Reese to me, and he slowly withdrew his hand, flashing the palm long enough for everyone to see that it was empty.

  “Yes,” he said slowly. “Yes, I was.”

  “Good, then.” Reese turned to the two vampires who were guarding the door. “We’ll step outside and speak to the agent, okay?” They narrowed their eyes at him, but finally nodded.

  With a whoosh of air, I let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding.

  We moved through the foyer. No one spoke until we were outside.

  “What was that?” Chandler demanded.

  “A private party,” Reese said smoothly.

  “What kind of party?”

  “A casual get-together among friends.”

  “Sure it is.” Chandler eyed our formal wear suspiciously. “What does this blood house have to do with the Sanguinary?”

  Reese led us out the front entrance and onto the sidewalk, countering Chandler’s question with one of his own. “Why were you following us tonight?” he asked.

  Chandler didn’t bother to deny the accusation. “I have a few more questions for Ms. Davis.”

  Reese shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Excuse me?” Chandler started to puff up, but then he looked into Reese’s eyes.

  We’re trained not to do that—to look at cheeks or noses, never eyes—but I knew from first-hand experience how easy it was to forget that training.

  Reese used Chandler’s brief moment of inattention to catch the agent’s gaze with his own. “You’ll forget all about following us tonight,” the vampire said. “You will go straight home. You’ll forget about this address, this building. You spent tonight waiting for Cami Davis outside her apartment, but she never left the complex. You finally gave up and went home to get some sleep.”

  I glanced from Reese to Chandler. Chandler’s mouth had gone slack and he nodded as he continued to watch Reese’s eyes.

  I shook my head and put my hand on Reese’s arm to stop him. He spared a glance at me, and then continued speaking. “You’ll wake feeling happy and refreshed, and forget you ever heard of the Sanguinary. Now go.”

  Chandler turned around and moved down the block. He looked like a sleepwalker, or maybe a drunk staggering home.

  I hoped no other agents saw him like that.

  “Why did you do that?” I demanded.

  “I had to,” Reese said. “He knew too much.”

  “You could have done something else. Lied, maybe? Made up some cool story? You didn’t have to muck around in his memory. That’s horrible.”

  Reese stared deeply into my eyes. “Cami, I think maybe you should forget this too.”

  I stared directly into his eyes and enunciated clearly as I spoke. “Fuck you, Reese. I will not forget it.”

  Reese blinked, and an expression like surprise crossed his face. Then his eyes narrowed speculatively. “Really? You aren’t going to forget it?”

  “No. I won’t. And I want you to quit trying to make me. You can’t make me do anything.” I turned my back on him. “God. Men suck. Especially vampire men. And vampire-addic
t men. All of you.”

  I heard Reese chuckle deeply behind me. I shook my head. “I’m going back to hear Mendoza’s announcement, and then I’m going home. You can do whatever you want.”

  With that, I stalked inside.

  Of course, my dramatic exit was somewhat foiled by the fact that Reese caught up with me in the foyer.

  “Look,” he said. “I’m sorry. If it bothers you that much, I won’t do it again.”

  “Yeah? Which part? Hypnotizing other people? Or trying to hypnotize me?”

  He grinned. “Both. Either. I won’t do either of those things again.”

  “Really?” I stared at him suspiciously.

  “Really. I swear.”

  I sighed. Who knew how much a vampire’s promise might be worth? As I’d said to Garrett earlier, they lied. But it was better than nothing. “Fine,” I said. “I accept your promise. And your apology. Don’t do it again. Ever.”

  “Okay, darlin’. I won’t.” His drawl was back. That made me more nervous than anything else that had happened all evening.

  Chapter 19

  We weren’t even halfway across the room when I saw Mendoza headed our direction.

  “I’m so glad you returned. I was worried you would miss my speech later. And after you’d had such an exciting evening already.”

  I felt a blush crawl across my cheeks. Mendoza turned his eyes toward me, taking in my flushed cheeks, then glanced back at Reese. “Oh, how charming. I do love it when they show their blood like that. Quite the aphrodisiac, don’t you think?”

  It was all I could do not to pull out my stake and do him in right then and there. Reese must have felt me twitch, though, because he put his arm around my waist and pulled me in close.

  “Remember, Mendoza,” he said quietly. “My Claim, my blood. Admiration is one thing. Desire is another.”

  With the words my Claim, my blood, the connection between us intensified. The room twirled as a wave of hot nausea passed over me. My head spun and my knees went weak. If Reese hadn’t been holding on to me so tightly, I think I might have fallen down. I swallowed hard and blinked my eyes rapidly, desperately trying to maintain my equilibrium.

  I felt a tremor run through Reese’s hand, but Mendoza didn’t seem to notice.

  The administrator’s voice dropped to match Reese’s. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Consider it a warning.”

  They locked eyes for a moment; then Mendoza broke contact. “Very well. I don’t believe I could trust a man who didn’t protect his Claims. My apologies.” He took my hand and brushed his lips across it. They were ice cold. It was all I could do not to snatch my hand back and wipe it off.

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Not that I would have known what to say, anyway. I felt a bit like a piece of meat with two dogs growling over it. And with a sick feeling in my stomach, I realized that with vampires—even Reese, possibly—that was very close to what I was. Lunch and a good lay, all in one.

  That thought made me truly ill. I looked up at Reese tentatively, hoping that snarling look would be gone from his eyes. It wasn’t. I had to get away from him for a minute. I pulled myself out of his grip—death grip, I thought, and then shook my head to dispel the image. “I need a drink. Will you go get me one?”

  “Sure,” Reese said in his usual drawl. He grinned down at me. He was beautiful. But he was also every bit as dead as Mendoza. “Want to come with me?” he asked.

  “No. I’ll wait over there by the wall.” I indicated a space between two open bleeding rooms.

  Reese frowned a little. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  I made my way to the spot I had indicated, hyperaware of not touching anyone I passed.

  The touch of cold, dead, animated flesh might make me vomit.

  I leaned back against the wall, savoring the touch of the cool wall against my overheated back. There was something terribly wrong with me—I felt feverish and sick.

  Reese returned and handed me my drink, something clear and fizzy. I sipped it gratefully. Sprite. Without the special blood house additive. Without alcohol, as well.

  “Are you okay?” Reese asked me. “You felt that, too, right?”

  I nodded. “I’m a little hot,” I said. Not that you’d understand that anymore, I added silently.

  He frowned and started to say something, but then stopped.

  I took another sip of my drink. I was beginning to feel better—the strange wave of nausea was receding. In fact, I realized, I was feeling better than I’d felt in days. “Remind me why we can’t kill them now?”

  “We want to get all the Sanguinary. They might not all be here tonight, but they’ll all be at the Halloween ball.”

  “Right. Kill ’em all. Not just some of them.” I looked out across the room and saw Dahlia heading toward us determinedly, Garrett firmly in tow.

  Hurriedly, I gulped the rest of my drink and handed the empty glass to Reese. “Go get me another drink, would you?”

  He followed my gaze. “You sure you’re up to it?”

  “Go get the drink. I’ll deal with these two,” I said.

  With a shrug and a grin, Reese complied.

  I leaned back against the wall and waited.

  “Cami, darling,” Dahlia sang out as she approached, making kissy noises at me. “I’m ever so glad to see that you and Reese are still doing well. I was afraid you might be tired after your performance.”

  Garrett didn’t say anything. He had dark, bruise-colored shadows under his eyes and his face was thin and pale.

  Looks like Garrett’s been giving blood too.

  He couldn’t afford to lose any more.

  “You know,” I said, turning to Dahlia, “you really shouldn’t abuse your…what is he? Bloodgiver? Anyway, you shouldn’t mistreat him like that. They’ll last longer if you’re kind to them.”

  Even that didn’t get a rise out of Garrett. I would have preferred a repeat of his anger from earlier in the evening. I hated seeing him like this, hated the thought of him turning into a shadow of himself.

  “But you see,” said Dahlia, in that sweet, little-girl’s voice of hers, “I don’t care how long they last. I care that they’re all mine while I have them.” She turned around and caressed Garrett’s cheek. He stared at her blankly. “And this one, you see, is all mine.”

  My nostrils flared and I fought the desire to pull out a stake.

  I’m going to kill this bitch if Reese doesn’t get back soon.

  With a flash of heat that seemed to burn across my face and leave a sick taste in my mouth, I felt him. Reese, to my left, headed my way. As if seeing double, I could see the crowd parting in front of him, see them bowing toward him—me?—see their faces looking into his eyes even as I saw their backs facing me.

  “Oh,” I whimpered, and slumped against the wall, fighting to maintain my balance.

  “Garrett, darling, your old partner can’t bear to see you with another woman,” Dahlia said. “Were you in love with him, Cami?”

  I held a hand over my eyes and tried squeezing them shut. Instantly, the double vision cleared. When I opened my eyes again, I was looking at Reese handing me a glass of juice. I reached out and took it, gulping the cold liquid gratefully.

  “I felt that,” he murmured. “Are you okay?”

  I shook my head, and then shrugged. I didn’t know if I was okay or not.

  “Your pet and I were discussing old loves,” Dahlia said. “Now what was her name again—the one you had before this one?”

  “I can’t imagine what you’re talking about, Dahlia,” Reese said. “If you’ll excuse us, please.” He put one hand on the small of my back and held my elbow with the other, supporting me as I stepped away from the wall.

  “Oh, but you can’t go,” Dahlia said, grabbing my forearm with both hands. Her voice hardened. “I’ve barely gotten started.”

  I lifted my head and stared at her. My vision blurred for a moment, then cleared. “Don’t touch me,” I grow
led, and snapped my arm out in a motion meant to merely dislodge her, to shake her off me.

  Like the vampire in Westlake had flicked the addict away and sent him sailing.

  And just like the addict at Westlake, Dahlia lifted into the air and flew across the room, landing ass-first on a small, decorative table holding a lamp against the far wall and crashing into the mirror above the table.

  As if I had tossed her with vampire-level strength.

  What have we done?

  The shards of mirror showed half a roomful of stunned humans staring back and forth between Dahlia and me. A glance at the room showed the rest of its non-reflective inhabitants, also staring open-mouthed at me.

  “Are you sure you want to stay for the announcement?” I muttered to Reese.

  He didn’t reply. I turned around to look for him and discovered him standing right behind me, mouth hanging open, just like rest of the vamps.

  Chapter 20

  The blood house stood completely silent. Not that it was ever a loud place, particularly, but there was usually a sort of general hum—of conversation, of moans and muffled screams from the bleeding rooms, of crystal glasses (with and without blood) clinking. But now there was nothing but the shuffling sound of people shifting surreptitiously from one foot to another as they tried to stand still, and the sound of Dahlia pulling herself off the table. I could hear the tinkle of glass as her movement sent mirror shards to the floor.

  Looking up, I realized that Mendoza was standing on the dais in the middle of the room.

  “Ah,” he said, raising his glass toward Reese and me. “That was quite an introduction. Thank you. Now I may begin.”

  All through the room, heads turned to watch him, and then back at us.

  My eyes grew huge, and Mendoza’s smile grew wider. Taking a drink from his wineglass, he drew a deep breath and prepared to speak.

  “As many of you know,” he began, his voice carrying easily across the entire space even without the apparent aid of a microphone, “events last summer left us with, shall we say, an opening in our administration. We lost one of our administrators when he was arrested and subsequently executed.” His eyes drifted across the room, then landed squarely on me.