Alex sobbed and covered her face with her hands, trying unsuccessfully to block the memory of the attack. “Why?” she whispered into her hands. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“To help you.”
Her anger flared, bright and hot. Chains rattled and groaned as she gained her feet and cast her chair aside, shouting, “How is torturing me helping? How is keeping me chained helping?”
“He is the one who has bound you, not I. He bound you to him. He wants to control you, limit you.” The voice drew closer and the unseen hands returned to briefly grip her shoulders before sliding lightly down her arms. “I would free you. No restrictions. No boundaries.”
The video screen flickered, refocusing her attention on the still image of a savage and bloody Varik crouched over her.
“No pain,” the voice whispered in her ear. “Accept me and I will make certain he never harms you again.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will. In time.”
The video sprang to life once more, playing out a memory Alex had tried very hard to forget. Unable to look away, she sank to her knees and wept.
Tasha sat in front of a closed-circuit video monitor and watched a clearly distraught Piper Garver attempt to pull herself together. She couldn’t blame the girl for being upset. It wasn’t every day someone watched a person—even if the person in question was a vampire—kill another human with their bare hands.
Sighing, she turned in her chair to face Damian and Varik, who were speaking in hushed tones a few feet away. “So what happens now?”
They looked at her.
“What’s going to happen to Piper now? She’s clearly a victim here.”
“She’s also an accomplice,” Damian said. “She admitted to recruiting girls for Beljean’s operation.”
“He forced her. He took every opportunity to abuse and threaten her.”
“He paid her,” Varik snapped. Ever since Alex was taken, his normally dark eyes had remained a bright gold, evidence of his intense emotional state. “The Bureau will take her situation and relationship with Beljean—all aspects of it—into consideration, but we can’t let her walk. We have to charge her as an accessory.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Her anger flared. “That girl is an emotional wreck and if you charge her with anything, she’s likely to shut down completely and not give you any more information.”
“Don’t tell me how to run my investigation!”
“I would never consider telling the great high-and-mighty Varik Baudelaire how to wipe his ass much less run an investigation! But I am telling you that you’re making one hell of a big mistake right now!”
“Lieutenant Lockwood makes a valid argument,” Morgan said as she entered the small observation room, cutting off Varik’s potential response. “It would be more logical to cut a deal with Ms. Garver in exchange for information.”
Varik rounded on her. “I don’t recall asking for your fucking opinion on the subject.”
Morgan’s brows rose sharply as Damian laid a warning hand on Varik’s shoulder. Her voice sliced the air like a blade made of ice. “I will remind you once more to whom you are speaking, Director Baudelaire.”
“I know perfectly well to whom I’m speaking, and you aren’t going to intimidate me, Morgan.” He brushed away Damian’s hand. “So drop the SI shit.”
As Morgan closed the distance between her and Varik, Tasha scooted her rolling chair as far away from the two vampires as the small room would allow.
“You seem to be laboring under the false impression that I answer to you,” Morgan hissed. “Enforcer Sabian’s abduction doesn’t negate my role here. I will continue following my orders to find evidence of corruption, and if that means calling your actions into question along with Sabian’s, which I’m beginning to suspect would be a fair assessment, then so be it.”
“You fucking bitch. You have no cause to open an inquiry on me.”
“Oh, really?” Morgan’s gaze slipped to Tasha.
Tasha’s blood turned to ice, despite her racing heart, as three sets of golden eyes shifted their focus to her.
“What did you do?” Varik rasped, taking a step toward her.
Tasha stood and maneuvered her chair to stand between them. She glanced at Morgan, who nodded her encouragement. “After you cornered me in the break room, Morgan approached me, told me I should—”
A continuous loud beeping filled the room. Varik swore loudly as he ripped his cell phone from the holster at his hip. The anger in his face drained away as he checked the display.
“What is it?” Damian asked, moving to stand next to Varik.
“It’s a text from Emily but—” A techno beat sounded from his phone. He pushed the button to answer and raised it to his ear but didn’t speak. Seconds ticked by in silence.
Tasha dug her fingers into the fabric of the chair back, anxious to know what was happening.
Varik and Damian were suddenly in motion, reacting to something she hadn’t heard. Varik darted from the room with Damian only steps behind, his own cell phone now glued to his ear as he shouted orders.
Tasha found herself alone in the observation room with Morgan. “What the hell just happened?”
“I couldn’t hear everything, just enough to know that call was from Emily Sabian,” Morgan answered. “Apparently she and another woman are being held at gunpoint.”
“Shit.” Tasha raced to catch up with Varik and Damian with visions of blood-spattered walls and crime scene tape already filling her head.
* * *
Pain seared Kirk’s side whenever he moved. The stitches were holding and the blood loss had stopped but his entire side felt like it was on fire. Adding to his unhappiness was a growing blood-hunger. He’d have to feed soon if he wanted to heal properly.
Luckily, there was a donor nearby.
He focused on the sight of Janet on her hands and knees, wiping up droplets of his blood. He watched as she helped the woman who’d stitched him up, Emily, clear away the remaining bandages, supplies, and blood. Both women made certain to stay well out of his arm’s length.
He smirked. The older vampire had nothing to fear from him. At least not yet. As for Janet, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t already had her in nearly every way a vampire could take a donor. His fangs had been in nearly every one of her veins. Until she turned straight and went to work at Crimson Swan, she’d been his number one blood bunny, earning him an assload of cash. Only reason he’d let her stay gone was because he’d found Piper.
Piper. The bitch. He still couldn’t believe she’d gotten away from him. If only that stupid-ass truck driver hadn’t interfered.
Kirk lifted his shirt and checked the bandage covering the surprisingly deft stitches. No blood showed yet. That was good. He’d need to leave soon if he was going to make it out of town before Piper undoubtedly finished spilling her guts to the cops. But first …
Janet picked up the bowl that had once held warm water but now only contained a wad of sodden pink rags. As soon as she was close enough to him, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him.
She screamed and dropped the bowl, trying to free herself from his grip.
Laughing, he fought for control of her arms, pulling one behind her into an awkward angle and she stopped her struggles. His stomach rumbled as he brought her other wrist to his lips and inhaled. “I’d forgotten just how sweet you smell.”
“Let her go,” Emily said in a low, even tone.
He glared at her. “What’s the matter? Afraid there won’t be enough to share?”
“You said you wouldn’t hurt her if I helped you.”
“Fuck off, bitch. I lied.” He bared his fangs, preparing to bite into Janet’s tender flesh.
A hand came between his mouth and Janet’s wrist. “I said, let her go.”
“Don’t ever tell me what to do!” Kirk grabbed a fistful of Janet’s hair and used his free hand to backhand Emily across the face. She care
ened into a set of cabinets and then crashed to the floor.
Janet wailed as he forced her against the wall near the back door and sank his fangs into her neck. Blood—warm, thick, and sweet—pumped into his mouth. He greedily gulped down a mouthful, then another.
Memories that weren’t his flooded his mind. Random images from Janet’s life flashed before him. A vampire with blond curls and a wide grin talked with customers from behind a bar. The same vampire lay in a hospital bed, surrounded by flowers and balloons. Emily and a younger red-haired vampire stood nearby.
Kirk felt a stirring of recognition with the memories. The blood flow seemed to lessen even though he drew on the wound. Growling, he shook his head, ripping flesh, and was rewarded with more of the sweet liquid.
More of Janet’s memories filled his mind. The image of the red-haired vampire stuck with him as recognition finally settled over him. He withdrew his fangs and staggered away.
Janet moaned and crumpled to the floor, unmoving.
He wiped the excess blood from his mouth and loomed over Emily, who had managed to push herself into a seated position. Squatting beside her, he cocked his head and grinned. “I know who you are now. You’re that Enforcer bitch’s mother.”
The distant wail of a siren shot a flood of adrenaline into his system.
Emily smiled. “Time’s up.”
The first siren was joined by others and their cries grew louder. “You called them.”
“Don’t be stupid. You had Janet check me for phones. She didn’t find any.”
“Yeah, but she’s also a fucking liar.” He leveled the revolver with Emily’s chest and used his other hand to quickly inspect her pockets. Somehow either she or Janet must have contacted the police. He was certain of it.
His search revealed nothing, just as Janet’s had, until he shoved his hand down her shirt and felt the hard sleekness of a cell phone nestled between her breasts. Her defiant stare never wavered as he pulled the phone from its hiding place.
Kirk checked the display, saw the counter ticking away on an open call, and growled. He pressed the button to end the call and touched the barrel of the .22 revolver to her forehead. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”
She met his gaze with pure amber eyes. “Go ahead,” she murmured. “Kill me. Kill Janet. You’ll be dead before you can even set a toe outside this house.”
Tires screeched and sirens and shouts erupted from outside. Cursing, Kirk pulled the revolver away, rose, and ran for the windows in the living room that overlooked the front of the house. He cautiously moved a section of the miniblinds and assessed the situation.
Uniformed human officers were busy setting up barricades in the street. Others were ushering neighbors across the street out of harm’s way or telling curious gawkers to move back inside their homes. In the center of the action stood a tall, dark-haired vampire and even from a distance Kirk could see the burning gold of his eyes and the rigid set of his jaw.
Kirk let the blinds fall back into place and returned to the kitchen.
Emily now sat beside Janet with a towel pressed firmly against the unmoving girl’s neck and shoulder. “She’s badly hurt. She needs help.”
“Sew her up like you did me.”
“It won’t work. She’s lost a lot of blood and she’s human. The wound is too deep. You have to let me take her out of here.”
Kirk shook his head and checked the revolver’s cylinder. Only five bullets remained. Not nearly enough to shoot his way out. “Move her to the living room and do what you can for her if you must, but you may as well settle in because this could take a while.”
“She’s going to die if you don’t let them help her.” Emily gestured to the front of the house with a bloodied hand.
He snapped the cylinder into place once more. “No one leaves.” He strode toward the front windows again, throwing his final words over his shoulder. “Not without a tag on their toe.”
seventeen
PETER HID IN A CORNER OF THE SHADOWLANDS ROOM he’d constructed to detain Alexandra’s consciousness while he worked to sever her blood-bond with Varik. He remained motionless, watching, learning, and waiting.
She lay curled on the floor with her back to the video monitor. The chains binding her wrists and legs weren’t true physical restraints but they were restraints nonetheless. Only he could release them, and he wouldn’t until the bond was broken.
The monitor behind her continued to play scenes from both hers and Varik’s pasts, with the attack that had forged the blood-bond repeated frequently. Reliving that moment was eating away at her willpower. Soon it would be easy to snap the bond and then she’d be wholly Peter’s. That same memory was playing even now. Her pleas for Varik to stop turned to strangled gurgles followed by sharp snarls as Varik savaged her neck.
He watched as she fingered the scar that remained. It was time to show her something of what he could offer her, and he focused on the monitor.
One final soft plea to Varik played over the monitor before the sound of a heavy foot crashing into a door filled the room. Peter shouted his rival’s name and his voice overlaid her brother’s in the memory.
Alexandra rolled onto her back, staring up at the monitor.
On the screen, Peter stood in the place of Stephen.
She frowned and sat up, intensely watching the altered memory.
“Step away from her,” Peter said, following the memory’s dialogue like a script.
Varik glared at him with bright golden eyes over her motionless form and growled.
On the screen, Peter moved forward and Varik retreated, hissing like a cornered cat. He continued to move away as Peter confidently closed the distance. Once Peter reached Alexandra’s side, Varik lunged. Instead of following the memory’s script, Peter changed it. He grabbed Varik’s throat and one arm, holding him in check as Varik’s other—clawlike—hand ripped at Peter’s arms and chest.
“You will not have her,” he said, jerking Varik to one side. A sickening wet pop sounded and Varik ceased his attack.
“No!” Alexandra gasped and reached for the monitor as she watched Varik’s lifeless body crumple at Peter’s feet.
The picture paused, showing a frozen image of Varik’s bloodied face.
“That’s not the way it happened!”
“But it could have,” Peter whispered, projecting his voice to appear as though he stood beside her. “It still could.”
“You can’t change the past.”
“According to whom?”
She didn’t answer.
“Who says the past cannot be changed?” he asked again. “Humans? Their gods? Your father?”
Color tinged her pale cheeks, and he felt the heat of her anger. “Don’t talk about my father.”
He chuckled, adding fuel to her anger.
“It’s impossible to change the past, not without altering someone’s memory.”
“Nothing is impossible when you believe anything is possible,” he quipped. He’d learned long ago that he was limited only by his imagination in the Shadowlands. The environment was different for each individual who found their way here, unless they knew how to manipulate its energies in such a way as to project their perception onto another individual. It was a skill he’d mastered, and one he would gladly teach Alexandra in time.
She searched the room, looking for him. “If you believe that, then show yourself.”
“No.”
“Are you afraid of me?”
“Far from it.”
“Then why not reveal yourself?”
“In time.” He projected a phantom version of his hand brushing her cheek and she flinched. “You aren’t ready.”
“Coward.”
Peter ignored her attempts to provoke him into revealing himself. “He doesn’t deserve you, not with the way he’s treated you.”
“Varik doesn’t hold me prisoner, doesn’t torture me.”
“Torture isn’t my intention. I merely wan
t you to see the truth of what he’s done to you. How he’s corrupted you. You were pure and innocent until he seduced you and twisted you.”
Alexandra laughed and it was sharp and derisive. “That’s what you think? That Varik seduced me?”
“He corrupted you,” Peter insisted.
“I seduced him, you jackass!” Her laughter took on the strained notes of one close to madness as tears rolled down her cheeks.
Peter shook his head, refusing to believe her. “No, you were pure, innocent, and he—”
“He resisted,” she interrupted. “He tried to keep our relationship professional, but he eventually caved.”
“Stop it! He twisted you with his perversions.”
She flashed a cruel smile. “He didn’t twist me. Hell, he wasn’t even my first, but he’s certainly proven himself to be the best.”
Peter snarled and directed his attention to the monitor, shutting it off to reveal a flat black surface.
Alexandra glanced at her reflection. Her smile vanished, replaced with a look of horror.
In her reflection, a large gaping wound slashed across the left side of her neck from below the ear to her collarbone. Bruises, cuts, blisters, and bites covered her face, arms, and the upper portion of her chest visible above her shirt’s V-neckline. However, when she raised her hands to her neck, confusion replaced horror and she looked down at herself and then back to her battered reflection.
“I’ve shown you every injury you’ve sustained as a result of his callousness,” Peter said. “Will you continue this foolish assertion that he cares for you?”
Alexandra didn’t respond. She covered her face with her hands, turned from the monitor, and lay down once more.
Peter turned the monitor on and her scream filled the small room. Soon she’d see the errors of her ways and renounce her blood-bond to Varik. Once she did, they would be free to start a new life.
Together.
Emily held the towel against Janet’s neck, making sure to keep the pressure constant. She’d bandaged the wound as best she could but blood continued to weep through the dressing. The girl was pale and pasty and her skin was cooler now than it had been an hour ago. Janet was not only going into shock but was slowly dying in her arms. She had to convince Kirk to let her summon the Enforcers and get the girl the help she needed.
Alexandra Sabian 2 - Blood Secrets Page 21
