Matters of the Blood

by Maria Lima

"I won't be by myself,” I said. “Tucker's here. Besides, I doubt that whoever did this will come back. Somehow, this reeks of the Albrights."

  I opened the front door and Bea scrambled to follow me. Tucker followed at a more leisurely pace.

  I took a deep breath before I flipped on the inside light, halfway expecting the room to be in a shambles. Nothing. The living room looked just as I'd left it: newspapers stacked on the floor by the couch, junk mail in the trash. I dropped my backpack on the recliner as I went into the kitchen.

  "How about I pour us each a big glass of wine?"

  "Sure,” Bea said, perching on one of the kitchen stools. “But aren't you going to call Adam Walker and tell him you're going to be late to dinner?"

  "Yeah, Keira, aren't you going to call?” Tucker smirked at me, his eyes dancing with humor. One of these days, I was just going to—aarrgh. Brothers—no matter how powerful, how supernatural, they were still all the damn same.

  "Shit, I was just there, too. Here.” I tossed Bea the opener and reached for the phone. “You open the bottle."

  "You were just there?"

  I shook my head at her and put a finger to my lips as the phone began to ring. He picked up almost immediately. I could hear some talking in the background, but couldn't make out any words.

  "Hey there,” I said. “Sorry to bother you."

  "Did you change your mind?” He sounded disappointed.

  "No, I didn't change my mind. It's just that I seem to have had a visitor at my house. Someone left behind a really nasty present.” I quickly described what had happened.

  There was absolute silence at the other end of the phone.

  "Adam?"

  "I'm here, Keira.” He voice was brusque and commanding. “Look, you wait right there. As soon as I'm finished here I'll bring dinner to you. Don't go inside, you don't know if it's safe."

  "Too late,” I said, “Already inside. Adam, really, I'm fine, my friend is here and the house is okay. I'm sure it was just some sort of sick joke by the Albrights."

  "You think it was them?"

  "Who else?” I asked. “Unless you know something I don't."

  "I'd still like to come over and bring you dinner,” he said. “The chef was already putting together a great meal. It won't be any trouble to bring it to you."

  I could hear the promise under the words as his voice worked its magic. My body started to respond almost instantly, as if he were already in the room with me. Despite the frustrating anger I still felt, I blushed and glanced over at Bea, who was pretending not to listen while pouring the wine.

  "Your friend can wait with you until I get there,” Adam continued. “I won't be long."

  Bea put a glass of wine down in front of me. She whispered, “Things are looking up. Let him come over. He can help with the clean-up."

  I made a face at her and turned away, gulping my wine. It was as if he and I were speaking intimate, suggestive words in front of strangers. But we were only talking about dinner.

  I nearly capitulated, half kicking myself mentally for giving in so easily. “No, please. Don't. Let's just reschedule, okay?"

  There was no sound on the other end of the phone.

  "Adam?"

  "If you insist, Keira,” he said. “I'll respect your wishes and reschedule dinner."

  "Thank you,” I said. “Why don't we plan on dinner tomorrow night?"

  "Certainly,” he said. “I'll see you."

  He hung up without additional fanfare.

  Well, hell's bells, after all the emotional waltzing we'd been doing, I expected a little more protest from him.

  "Boyfriend not coming?” Tucker was definitely enjoying this way too much.

  "No,” I said, “and he's not my boyfriend."

  "Stranger things have happened, m'hija.” Bea joined in on the teasing.

  "Great, you're both too damned funny for words,” I growled. “Now who's going to help me clean up the mess?"

  "Here.” Bea reached over and put a glass of wine in my hand. “Let's drink up before we even think about that."

  I did as she suggested, glaring over the rim of the glass at the two seeming co-conspirators.

  Maybe after some more wine I could start seeing the humor in all of this. My new suitor, a vampire, didn't believe in werewolves or shapeshifters. My girlfriend, who was scared by the fact that vampires existed, was pushing me to date one, with my brother's help. Of course, I wasn't exactly planning to spill the beans about Adam's little secret to Bea. That was probably a little more than she could handle right now. Talk about complications.

  * * * *

  Tucker gallantly dragged the deer head into the woods behind my house and the three of us had made a decent dent in the bottle of wine when I heard the gravel crunch under a new set of wheels. Oh, fucking hell. Now what? Probably Carlton. That would just be dandy.

  A black SUV was just pulling out of the drive as I reached the front door. I caught a glimpse of pale hair on the person at the wheel: Andrea.

  Adam stood at the edge of the porch, a look of disgust on his face as he stared at the bloody warning. He looked up and saw me.

  His eyes held something new. Not the insides-twisting clarity that had intrigued me since we'd first met, but instead, a subtle darkness clouding the crystalline green. It was as if someone else was looking out from the inside, someone whose purpose and intent was much grimmer.

  But this darkness wasn't tainted like Gideon's had been. I didn't feel contaminated. It was like a breath of shadows and night whispering behind the sea green.

  "I thought I told you not to come."

  He smiled at me, the darkness vanishing as if it had never been there. “I said I would respect your wishes. Tell me you don't really want me here."

  I couldn't say a word. Bea shoved a full glass of wine into my hand, which I then automatically held out to Adam.

  He paused a moment and I held my breath. Oh, crap. Had I committed a faux pas? The vamps at Night Moves had always carried around flasks of blood, I never really paid much attention to what else they'd been drinking—if anything.

  He reached for the glass, grinned at me and went for the obvious.

  "I really like ... wine."

  I grinned back like a fool, trying not to giggle, conscious of Bea and Tucker behind me.

  Adam walked across the letters, being careful not to step on any of them, and stopped just short of coming inside. I stayed where I was, up against the open screen door. The night had gotten cold; a chill slipped up my right arm, raising goose bumps.

  "Hello."

  He was so close his breath teased my hair, drifting across my scalp. Suddenly, I didn't feel the cold anymore. It was as if there was some sort of fire arcing between the two of us, a space heater at full tilt, the warmth of it wrapping both of us up in its electric hum. I'd always assumed that vampires would be cool, lacking the normal energy and temperature of the living human body. I guess I'd been wrong. Or maybe this was something else entirely. Something I'd started by sharing with him earlier, opening up the barriers between us. Once you cross that line with a person, it's almost impossible to completely close yourself off again. But I didn't want to close off.

  I stood transfixed, reveling in the sensation of power. He'd relaxed a little and let go some of his shielding. His was one of the strongest auras I'd ever sensed. I could feel my own power starting to stir, responding to him, the heat building between us.

  "Aren't you coming in?” Tucker's voice cut in like the slap of a cold wet towel.

  I startled and almost dropped my own wine glass, which had been hanging loose in my left hand. I was glad it was almost empty. Small drops of wine splattered the porch, red liquid glistening in the light, their color redder than the now-brown words scrawled so cruelly across the wooden flooring.

  Adam looked at Tucker, then at Bea, then turned back to me with an enigmatic smile. He gave a brief nod, almost a half-bow. For a fleeting moment, in my mental haze, I flashed back and instead
of Adam, I saw a tall, pale young man with red-gold hair. The guy in the hallucination. I gasped and stepped back away from the door. D?j? vu all over again.

  Adam whipped around to peer out at the darkness beyond the porch. “Did you see something?” His voice rang, a steel trapdoor slamming shut, cutting off our connection. All the energy I'd felt from him was gone, giving way to a complete blankness, smooth and featureless like opaque glass.

  "No, nothing, it was just something ... else.” I stammered out the words, disconcerted that anything about Adam had reminded me of that uncomfortable vision. “Please, Adam, come in. Let's go inside."

  He turned back to face me, smiling.

  "Are you sure?"

  So, was that part true, too, then? Could he not come in without my invitation? I wondered, but didn't hesitate.

  "Please, come in."

  My brother took a step back to let us enter, but stared at Adam with a slight smile, lips pressed together carefully. No baring of teeth here. I knew he was being careful.

  Adam spoke first, still staring at Tucker. “I didn't realize you were so ... well protected. In fact, I'm beginning to think there's a great deal you haven't told me, Keira."

  Adam's expression mirrored that of Tucker's. They recognized each other as predator and were both treading lightly, assessing each other, trying to figure out where each of them fit in my life.

  The silence stretched out, both men silently appraising, Bea's gaze darting between the two, not sure of what to do. I just stood there, wine glass in hand, wondering what would happen. I began to feel a surge of power, of energy, emanating from my brother.

  "Interesting,” Adam finally said, backing down, his expression relaxing into a gentle smile. “To borrow a phrase, I suppose you have a reason to hire ... non-traditional security?"

  "Hire? Not exactly,” I said, laughing a little with relief. “Adam Walker, meet my brother, Tucker Kelly."

  "Your brother. Hmmmm. Definitely not traditional, then."

  "Not,” I agreed. “Right now, though, he's basically a babysitter. My granny is a little too overprotective."

  "My ass,” Tucker exclaimed.

  "Such a nice one, too.” Bea's sotto voce remark wasn't meant to be heard by anyone. She didn't count on all of us having preternatural hearing ability.

  Tucker grinned widely and turned to my friend, a silent question on his face. Bea matched his grin, staring at him, frankly appraising. This was most definitely getting interesting. From Bea's expression, she was thinking the whole idea was pretty nifty. Well, at least I wasn't the only one whose hormones were taking over.

  "Look, Tucker, why don't you take Bea home?” I didn't want Bea to have to deal with Adam. She'd already been put through enough weirdness on my behalf. Besides, from the looks of things, my brother wouldn't mind in the least.

  "Keira, are you sure?” Bea frowned, looking first at me, then at Adam.

  "I'm sure, Bea,” I insisted. “You need to go home and get away from this."

  Tucker came to me and gave me a hug. He whispered, “You'll be okay?"

  I nodded, answering him in the same low tone. “I'll be fine, really. Take her home. Keep her safe. I don't want her involved in this."

  He kissed me on the cheek. “I keep her safe. She'll be okay with me...?"

  I giggled, knowing what he wasn't exactly asking. “She'll be just fine. She's not into commitment, either."

  He grinned and kissed me again. “Take care, little sister."

  "I will, bro. And thanks.” I squeezed his arm, grateful he'd taken me at my word. He didn't know Adam from, well, Adam, and I was afraid he'd insist on sticking around. Unlike some of my other brothers, though, Tucker did tend to trust my judgment. Most of the time.

  My brother took Bea's arm and headed out the door. Before he reached it, he paused and turned.

  "Oh, by the way, you should ask your boyfriend about the blood."

  "Blood?"

  "The writing on the porch. It's not deer blood."

  Adam stared at my brother for a long moment, but said nothing.

  Tucker ushered Bea out the door. With a smile and a nod to me, he let the screen door slam behind him.

  Adam and I both watched the little red sedan speed away. My best friend and my 1200-year-old brother off for a night of what I hoped would be full of fun and unbridled sex. Of course, I wasn't sure where she was taking him, since her aunt and uncle lived with her and I didn't see them going there, but I didn't worry too much about it. They were both grown-ups. They'd figure it out. And I hadn't been kidding when I'd told Tucker that Bea wasn't into commitment. She'd been married once, to someone who treated her poorly. I didn't know the whole story as she'd hadn't wanted me to know. I hadn't found out until after it was over and I'd come back to Rio Seco. I still didn't know all the details, but since then, she preferred to keep things simple. No commitments, no risks.

  After a few moments of watching the empty night, I asked the question that still needed an answer.

  "So ... when were you going to tell me?"

  "About the blood?"

  "Well, yeah."

  "I'm not sure."

  "What about it?” I asked.

  He spoke without looking at me. “It's human."

  I turned to look at him, didn't say anything for several long beats, just stared at his face, wondering what this meant.

  "Were you planning to tell me?” I finally asked.

  Silence.

  "You weren't, were you?"

  He still said nothing.

  I shut the front door and stepped around him into the house.

  "Damn it, you're all the fucking same."

  "All?” Adam's voice was quiet, as if he were afraid to say much of anything.

  "Men,” I said. “Human, vampire, whatever the hell you are doesn't matter. You all act the fucking same. My family sics my older brother on me, under some ridiculous notion that I can't take care of myself—"

  His soft words stopped my tirade in midstream. “It's because we ... care for you. Nothing more."

  My head whipped around. “Well then stop it, damn it."

  "Stop caring?” Adam followed me into the living room. Before I could stop him, he picked up the wine bottle, grabbed my empty glass from my hand and refilled it.

  I took it back from him and took a big gulp.

  "Stop patronizing me,” I said, exasperated at his cool smoothness.

  "That, I will do,” he said, smiling back at me.

  I flopped onto the couch, glaring up at him, not really knowing why I was angry.

  "That was your ... brother, you said?"

  "Yes, half-brother, actually,” I said.

  "He's a predator?"

  "Hellhound,” I replied. “Shapeshifter, were, whatever you want to call it."

  "I see.” He watched me, his face expressionless as if he were processing the information.

  "Some more wine, then?” he asked.

  "Sure.” I was relieved. He seemed to be accepting all this new information.

  Adam pulled a fresh bottle from my small wine rack, then came over to join me. He sat to my left, putting the bottle on the coffee table, then lit the candles I kept there. I reached over and turned off the table lamp. He smiled as he caught my eye but said nothing.

  I watched as he opened and poured the wine with the efficiency of an expert. He'd chosen a Syrah and its garnet-red glowed in the ivory light. I let my eyes narrow to enjoy the play of the candle flames on the shimmering liquid jewel of the wine. I sipped it slowly, savoring the flavor. I'd always preferred a full-bodied red over the sharper whites.

  "So you think the Albrights left the deer head?” His question certainly broke the mood.

  "Yes,” I said. “It wasn't the head that bothered me much in itself, but the fact it was so intensely vicious and nasty. I'm positive they were trespassing on the Point that night and took advantage of the situation. They probably realized their mistake later when they took the heads to Marty ... h
e would have known he couldn't sell them for trophies."

  I took a sip of wine. “And the blood, Adam?” I asked. “Human?"

  He nodded. “The blood used to write the words, yes."

  "Marty's?"

  My memory called up an all-too-clear image of the decomposing head as it lay against my front door, superimposing it with an image of my cousin's lifeless body lying pale and bloodless in the mortuary prep room. Behind that was my dream memory of stalking the beings that had hunted the deer.

  I was curled up in my favorite corner, cradling the wineglass stem in both hands. Adam sat at the opposite end, staring straight ahead, as if captivated by the candles. Neither of us spoke as we enjoyed the wine. It was odd, but I felt completely comfortable sitting with him this way. I'd always felt silence was much more intimate than conversation. I'd never been able to sit this quietly with anyone else, not Carlton, not Bea ... not even Gideon.

  "I don't know, Keira,” he said softly. “I never met your cousin."

  "Oh,” I said. “True."

  "You couldn't tell?"

  I shook my head. “No, I'm not ... well, it's complicated, but I'm not exactly like my brother. I can't distinguish scents that well."

  "Could your brother not recognize the scent?"

  "I doubt it,” I said. “He'd have said something. Marty wasn't ... well, he wasn't close to anyone."

  "I see,” Adam said. He fell silent again, sipping his wine, watching me watching him.

  He had a strong face marked by experience, not age. I had no idea how old he was, but he could pass for thirty-five, maybe thirty. High cheekbones set off a nose that didn't quite make a straight line, but was well defined and matched his square chin and finely-cut lips. Black hair waved back from his forehead and fell well past his shoulders. Taken separately, none of his features were particularly remarkable, but the whole was definitely greater than the sum of its parts.

  I could hear Bea in my head. “This is a good one, m'hija.” I shifted in my seat and reached for more wine. He was there ahead of me, his hand closing around the bottle as mine closed over his.

  "Let me.” He spoke softly, not quite a whisper.

  I pulled my hand away, reluctant to break contact with his skin. It was smooth and rough and everything in between and held the heat I'd felt earlier.