Gypsy: Sons of Sangue

by Patricia A. Rasey

  She pulled a new phone out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Here’s a new burner phone. Give me the old one. We can’t leave anything to chance.”

  He handed her the cell he used to contact her on. “Did you put Blondy undercover?”

  Her brow crinkled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Blondy, man.” Draven’s eyes lit with excitement. “He’s a Devil.”

  “He would never join them. You doing the drugs you’re selling?”

  “No. Seriously. Have you seen him lately?”

  “As a matter of fact, I haven’t.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I saw him. Talked to him. He said he joined the Devils because Hawk and Viper gave Tamera back to Gypsy. That true?”

  “Viper told me he had asked his grandfather to meet with Gypsy.”

  “Then what Blondy said is true. He was plenty pissed you all turned your backs on him.”

  “Turned our backs? Is that how he sees it?” Cara pretended to ponder the news. “I’ll have to speak with Viper. See if he knows anything about Blondy’s whereabouts.”

  “He changed his name.”

  “What?”

  “He told me Blondy was dead. Said to call him Rogue from now on.”

  “Rogue.” She harrumphed. “Isn’t that fitting? He say anything else?”

  Draven shook his head. “Not a thing. And I was too taken aback to question him further. The men all treated him as one of the guys.”

  Cara looked at her watch, wanting to get through here so she could get back to the hospital. “Anything else you need to tell me about while we’re here?”

  “Just that I was introduced to the rest of the club. I gave them the list of drug runners you and Detective Hernandez gave me. They said they’d be in touch soon. Looks like we might be in business.”

  “Good to know.” Cara grinned as she rubbed her hands together. “I’ll get with Detective Hernandez and Captain Melchor. Looks like we might finally get this ball rolling. We’ll be in touch. You need us before that, use the phone I just gave you.”

  “Got it.”

  “And, Draven?”

  “Yes?”

  “For now, stay the hell away from Blondy … Rogue, or what the hell ever he now goes by.” Her lips turned down. “I’ll see what Viper and Hawk have to say about him. But if it’s true, and he flipped sides, that could only mean he’s a loose cannon. Don’t play with that fuse.”

  He nodded. “Got it.”

  “I have to go. My grandfather’s in the hospital,” she said, heading for the exit.

  “Cara?”

  She turned back before opening the door. “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you away from his side. I didn’t know.”

  “Thanks, Draven. He’s too damn stubborn to die anyways,” she managed to say without choking up. Unfortunately, she had never seen the man look so deathly ill. Cara hoped to hell he didn’t give up the fight. She couldn’t lose him. He was all she had left to her mortal side.

  * * *

  Grayson pulled his bike to a stop and cut the engine. Anton’s bike sat to the back of the farmhouse, hidden from the road. After going to the Rave and not finding Tamera, only catching Cara’s scent and that of Draven’s, his next obvious choice had been Anton’s. He had no idea if the blond vamp would take her back under his wing as pissed as he had been. Anton had come to care for her, though, and Grayson doubted he’d turn her away. Unsnapping his helmet, he hung it on the rubber handle grip and headed for the back of the house.

  Before he made it to the steps, Anton exited the back door. “What the fuck are you doing here, Gypsy?”

  “Nice to see you too.”

  “I won’t pretend something I’m not.”

  “Ouch? Really? Has it come to that?” Gypsy shook his head. “Why not just kick my ass so we can move past this and go back to being friends already?”

  Anton’s jaw tightened. “Let’s not pretend you’re here for small talk. Cut to the chase, Gypsy. Why are you really here?”

  “Dude, you really have a hard-on for me. It’s not like you slept with her.”

  “And it’s not like you didn’t while she was still my mate.”

  Grayson’s gums ached. He tamped down his rising ire and the lengthening of his fangs. He wouldn’t allow Anton to bring out the worse in him. After all, Anton had good cause to be pissed.

  “In truth, bro, she was never yours. You know that.”

  “Regardless, bro,” he damn near spat the last word in hatred. “You should’ve waited until she was yours. You made the decision to give her to me. That should have been the end of it.”

  “She would have never loved you.” Grayson hated himself for pointing out the obvious, but Anton was really stoking his ire. “Tamera has loved me from day one.”

  “And I suppose you love her now.”

  “I do.”

  “How fucking sweet.” Anton’s fangs shown below his upper lip. “Now that you said your peace, why not get back on your bike and get the hell off my property. You’re not wanted here, Gypsy.”

  “What happened between us, dude? We used to be thick as thieves.”

  “Things change. Women can do that to you.”

  Damn, he hated how this was going. Not what he wanted. “I fucked up, Blondy. Maybe one day you can forgive me for it. I’m sorry. It’s all I have.”

  “Not enough.” His obsidian gaze narrowed. “You may think you can say two little words and all will be forgiven, but put yourself in my place. I helped her through her change. I was her friend for nine months while you played the injured ass. I took her in when you tossed her out like your garbage. And what thanks do I get? First chance you got, you fucked her while she belonged to me.”

  Anton thumped his chest with his fist. “Me, damn it! The only thing in my miserable life I ever wanted. And every damn one of you turned your backs on me. Even Viper and Hawk took your side and called in the old man. Well, fuck every one of you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Anton took the cut dangling from his fingers and shrugged into it. It was the first time Grayson really looked at it. Son of a bitch. “What the fuck is that? Are you fucking for real?”

  Anton chuckled, the sound cruel to his ears. “Exactly what it looks like. You fucks in the Sons aren’t worth my time. You can all go to hell.”

  Grayson couldn’t believe his eyes. His anger hit a high note, while at the same time his heart ached for the loss. Had he really driven Anton to defect? “If this is for real, you’re no longer my brother.”

  “You stopped being my brother when you fucked Tamera.”

  “Blondy … think about it, dude. Don’t be hasty. You were there with me when we took out two of them.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s on the Sons. I was only doing as ordered.”

  “Wow.” Grayson no longer even knew what to say. The man standing before him was truly not the man he loved. “I guess that’s how it’s going to be then.”

  “Halle—fucking—lujah. He finally gets it.”

  “I got it, Blondy.”

  “That’s Rogue to you.”

  “Oh, that’s fucking fitting. You are a rogue. I got no problem calling you one. Blondy is dead.”

  His smile was sardonic. “Dead and buried. Now anything else you want?”

  “Tamera?”

  “What about her?”

  “She’s not here?”

  Anton tipped his head and howled in laughter. “Oh, that’s rich. Had her but a few days and you already lost her.”

  “Fuck you, Rogue.”

  Anton pointed at Grayson. He had to bite back the urge not to break his finger. “No, fuck you and fuck Tamera. Good luck finding her. Now get the hell off my property.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Grayson strode back over to his bike, fuming. He wanted to beat some sense into Anton. Problem was, he didn’t much think it would help at this point. With the turn of his key and p
ulling down on the rubber handle grip, his bike roared to life. He didn’t bother looking back. A sick feeling started in the pit of his stomach, which had little to do with Anton and everything to do with Tamera. If she wasn’t here and she wasn’t at the Rave, then where the hell was she?

  Chapter 28

  Defeated and having no idea where the hell to turn, Grayson walked into the clubhouse. Twelve hours had nearly passed and he didn’t have one fucking clue as to where she had gone. Kaleb, Alexander, and Grigore took up the stools in front of the bar, while Ryder stood behind it. For the time being, until the threat on Stefan was taken care of, Grayson knew the clubhouse would crawl with members of the Sons, everyone on high alert. Kaleb wouldn’t chance Rosalee coming anywhere near his son.

  Suzi sat in the living room with a few donors from the club. Grayson recognized one of them as India. The pretty, darker skinned donor cradled baby Stefan in her arms.

  “Damn. Who killed your cat, Gypsy?” Grigore asked, followed by a guffaw.

  “Fuck you, Wolf. I’ve had better days.”

  Grayson walked up to the bar and Ryder quickly slid him a tumbler full of whiskey. He tipped back the glass and downed it, welcoming the liquid fire. If one of the donors had not been used, he might just help himself to communion. He had never felt lower in his life. Gone was his woman, and now his best friend.

  “Besides the obvious, what has you all down in the mouth?” Kaleb asked, sipping his own glass of Jack.

  “Life.”

  “That mean you haven’t found her?”

  Grayson ran a hand through his hair, pushing the long strands from his face and shook his head. He supposed he looked like hell. From the time he had crawled out of bed, his day had gone downhill at lightning speed. His mate had deceived them all by the pact she made with Rosalee. After his snap decision to send her packing, she had completely disappeared without a trace. He hadn’t been able to find hide nor hair of her. Then there was Anton’s defection to the rival MC. Yeah, pretty much the day from hell.

  “Any of you assholes hear from Blondy lately?” Grayson asked. No one indicated having run into his one-time brother. Fuck, his faithlessness rankled. “I didn’t think so. The son of a bitch now wears a Devils cut.”

  “What the fuck?” Kaleb growled, his brow furrowed. “Some kind of joke, Gypsy? Because it’s not funny. No way in hell would Blondy put on one of their cuts.”

  “Serious as a heart attack, dude. I saw it with my own eyes. I went out to his place looking for Tamera.”

  “Why the hell would your mate be at Blondy’s?”

  “Thought maybe he might have given her sanctuary.” Grayson took a deep breath and placed his booted foot on the brass rail in front of the bar. “I just hope Rosalee hasn’t found her yet either. Because if she has, Tamera’s likely dead by now.”

  “Something tells me Rosalee won’t do the deed quietly,” Kaleb said.

  “I hope you’re right, P. Now what the hell do we do about Blondy?” He shook his head, then took another glass of whiskey from Ryder and downed it. “Sorry … he calls himself Rogue now. You guys didn’t see him, hear the things coming out of his mouth. He’s so focused on us all turning our backs on him he isn’t thinking straight. Do what you want with him. I’m done. I have bigger issues at the moment. Starting with the need to find Tamera before Rosalee does.”

  “I’ll call Vlad. He won’t be too happy with the bitch, considering she threatened his great grandson.” Kaleb set his glass on the counter, sliding it forward for Ryder to refill it. “Let him handle it.”

  “No fucking way, Hawk. Rosalee dies. I’m going to take her head.”

  “Think about it, Gypsy. She’s not worth it,” Alexander spoke up. Always the voice of reason. “Your life would be forfeit either way. You take a primordial life and it’s your head. Let the old man take care of her.”

  Grayson couldn’t help notice how Alexander’s gaze flitted to India several times in the last few minutes. She smiled, cooing at the infant. He’d save his curiosity for another day. The donors pretty much ignored their conversation, but Grayson could tell Kaleb’s mate had heard every word. She likely worried about her one time roommate and her son.

  “I hear you, Xander. But if anything happens to Tamera, I couldn’t forgive myself. I treated her pretty shitty this morning.”

  The sound of Kane’s Harley pulling into the parking lot caught their collective attention. Moments later, Kane and his mate walked through the door. Suzi was the first to notice the crestfallen look on Cara’s face. She jumped to her feet and ran to her long-time friend.

  “He’s gone,” was all Cara got out before sobs shook her and she fell into Suzi’s arms. Kane let out a string of curses before he kissed Cara’s temple. For now, he left her comfort to Suzi.

  He walked over to the bar, his lips turned down. “I could use a whiskey, man. Fuck the short glass. Cara’s grandfather passed away about an hour ago.”

  Ryder pulled tall glasses down for everyone, except Alexander. Grabbing another bottle of Jack, the prospect poured a round for each of them.

  Fuck! What a lousy fucking day.

  He hadn’t ever met the older man, but he knew him to be Cara’s last living relative. Damn, that was tough. His heart ached as Cara’s sobs were softened by Suzi’s shoulder and her whispered words. Hell, he couldn’t help but get choked up.

  “What happened, Viper?” Grigore asked.

  “He went into septic shock. His blood pressure bottomed out. Her grandfather was unresponsive by the time they got him to the emergency room. The doctors did what they could. In the end, he didn’t pull through. Cara asked me for permission to turn him.” Kane cleared his throat, clearly overrun with emotion. He worked his jaw as moisture gathered in his eyes. “I just couldn’t give her the okay, man. It’s not done that way.”

  The room went silent, save for the tears coming from Cara. Death sucked. No two ways about it. If there was one thing Grayson could give Kane and Cara at this moment, it would be freedom from Rosalee.

  Enough was enough.

  “I have to go,” Grayson said. He slid his glass across the bar before walking from the clubhouse, not about to let anyone stop him.

  Once outside, he pulled the phone from his pocket Tamera had left behind. Finding the most recent number, he called it. The cell rang several times before it finally picked up.

  A cruel chuckle sounded through the earpiece. “I was wondering how long it would take you to smarten up and call.”

  If he could only reach through the fucking phone. “Where is she?”

  Rosalee quickly rattled off directions. “Come alone, lover boy. Or she dies.”

  The line went dead. Tamera would die either way unless he stopped her. Grayson headed for his bike.

  “Your turn to die, bitch,” he whispered into the night air. “Or I do. One way or another this ends tonight.”

  * * *

  Rosalee stood before her, black obsidian gaze wide and crazed. How the hell had she not seen the bitch for what she was months ago? Had she not, Tamera wouldn’t have had the chance to know Grayson. Then again, so many lives would not be in danger because of her selfish desire to live forever either.

  It was time for her to right her wrongs.

  Tamera took a quick glance around, taking in her surroundings. It appeared they were in some sort of old restaurant that must have closed its doors months ago, if the dust collecting everywhere were any indication. With the windows all boarded, she had no idea whether they were still in Pleasant. Tables set about the open room, dirty, red and white checkered table cloths covering them. Some chairs were set upside down atop them, while others set haphazardly about the room.

  Her ankles had been shackled together by some thick-ass log chain she didn’t have hopes of ever breaking, even with her gained strength as a vampire. She was far too newly turned to be able to sever the iron links. Tamera didn’t stand a chance against Rosalee, not without the element of surprise. If she hoped to make i
t out of this alive, then she’d need to blindside the primordial.

  Tamera shuffled her feet backward a few steps. It didn’t take much for the chains to rattle to gain a hiss out of the frighteningly scary vampire. A weaker woman would have cowered. Hell, she wanted to, but Kaleb and Suzi’s baby’s future might very well depend on her ending the bitch’s life and being the one who walked out of the building alive.

  If nothing else, she hoped to give the Sons that. They shouldn’t have to fear for another of the Tepes heir’s lives because of the stupid decisions made by her. Should she not succeed, then Grayson would earn his freedom.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Rosalee questioned.

  “I want to sit. I’m weak. I haven’t fed.”

  Tamera took a couple more steps toward the closest chair, hoping Rosalee believed her ruse of weakness. A long bar set to the side where customers could sit for counter style seating. To her right, and behind the counter, she noted a pass through window, no doubt used at one time for waitresses to grab the patrons’ orders. Light coming through one of the slats of the boarded windows glinted off something shiny left on the stainless steel top of the pass through window.

  A butcher knife.

  Hope blossomed in her chest as she took a few more steps in the direction of the pass through counter. If she could just grab the knife, she could plunge the steel blade into the cold heart of Rosalee. It was most likely the only chance she had of leaving here alive.

  Rosalee turned and looked toward the front of the restaurant, just long enough to give Tamera the seconds needed to grab the knife. An inhuman growl flitted to her ears, telling her Rosalee no doubt saw the blade Tamera made a lunge for. Thankfully, the ancient bitch hadn’t bound her hands, probably hadn’t felt the need knowing she could easily overpower Tamera on a bad day.

  In the blink of an eye, Rosalee leaped through the air and landed just inches from her, but not before she found purchase on the black handle. Before Tamera could bury the blade, Rosalee veered to the right and Tamera missed the mark, sinking the knife deep into the primordial’s side.

  Rosalee cried out, backhanded Tamera with such force her head jerked to the side. Her vision shadowed as white lights exploded in her brain. Her knees gave out, and she crumbled to the ground as she succumbed to the blackness.