The Bloodline Series Box Set

by Gabriella Messina

  Sam grumbled, and went back to the spaghetti pot. “Did you find something?”

  “Yes, I did.” Ben grinned broadly, and held up his laptop, spinning it around so Sam and Vincent could see the screen. “Since they have so many ties to the past, I figured that was the best place to start. You know, to figure out what these Nazis are up to.” He set the laptop on the kitchen table and gestured to it. “Lebensraum.”

  “Lebensraum.” Sam glanced toward the living room before she continued, her voice lower. “Is this about the kids?”

  “Sort of, yeah.” Ben sat down at the table as he talked, pointing to the screen images and text. “Lebensraum. German concept of territorial expansion. The Nazis took it when they came to power and went buck wild, literally clearing out whole areas of cities, whole towns and villages, in favor of their own people. Big chunks of Eastern-Europe were cleared out, with the residents who were considered of, um, inferior race sent to work camps... death camps.”

  “And that applies here how?” Vincent lit a cigarette, the smoke hanging in the air along with his question.

  “The outbreak in Brooklyn,” Sam replied. “The one Frank told us about. There was another in the Bronx. The adults are all MIA, but some of the kids are the ones I told you about... Stashed in the brownstone in Harlem.” She turned her attention back to Ben. “So, the outbreaks were a form of Lebensraum?”

  “Yup.” Ben glanced at the stove. “And there’s more, but you might want to drain that first.” Sam glanced at the pan of boiling spaghetti, and jumped into action, getting it quickly drained and coated with oil and sauce, ready for serving.

  “Okay, let’s hear the more.”

  “Shouldn’t we eat?” Ben asked, his eyes drifting with longing to the large bowl of spaghetti, meatballs and sauce ready for the table.

  “Talk fast, and we will.” Sam dropped her a voice again. “Alice needs to eat, as do we all, but I don’t think we should spend the whole time talking about this stuff. She’s had a... stressful day.” Sam’s eyes flickered to Vincent. “We all have.” She expected Ben to fight her on it, but he nodded solemnly, and closed the laptop.

  “Right. Okay, long story short, the outbreaks are kind of your fault.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The explosion that happened in Brooklyn, when you guys blew up the Pervitin stores in the warehouse? Yeah. A lot of people in the surrounding neighborhoods got sick in the days afterward, all flu-like symptoms. That one the media wrote off as ‘blast-related’, ‘toxic dust from the explosion’, but yeah... it was the LV that the capsules were laced with. Once they realized it could be spread like that, they got on it right away. Then, suddenly, Legionnaire’s just kept popping up.”

  “Fuckin’ bastards.” Vincent stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table and ran a hand through his longish black hair. Sam’s stomach gave a little lurch... His amorous advances earlier had stirred her own engine a bit, and she was having a difficult time concentrating on the business at hand. The asshole knew it, too... one of the downsides to having the mental connection they had.

  Easy, darlin’... A smirk twitched at his lips as he spoke to her...

  Fuck you, stop laughing at me! Sam glared at him, trying her hardest not to smile as well.

  Later... He replied, even as he stood and gestured toward the food. “Are we eating here, or at the other table?”

  “Other table. There’s five of us.”

  Ten minutes later, the five – Sam, Vincent, Ben, Alice, and Frank Ronne – all sat around the dining table in the living room area. Sam was glad she’d chosen to move the old table out of storage and back into the apartment, even if it meant a squeeze in the small room. The tiny table in the kitchen had worked well for herself and Ivan, but now that the family seemed to be expanding, it was necessary to make room.

  The family... Sam glanced around at the others and felt surprisingly comforted by the thought. They had their differences, and they generally made each other a bit crazy, but it felt right to call themselves “family”. Even Alice, who’d only been in the mix for a few hours, seemed as if she’d always been there. Sam kept an eye on her as the young woman watched Ben ladle food onto her plate. Ben had stepped in to look after her almost as soon as she came in the door, and the chemistry between them was palpable. It felt like... Sam glanced briefly at Ronne, who was tucking into his own plate of food. He’d been quiet since his arrival, polite but distant, and she had the feeling something was bothering him.

  Sam found out exactly what while she was cleaning up in the kitchen after dinner. As she ran the water in the sink, and put dishes in to begin soaking, Ronne entered.

  “Everything was delicious.”

  Sam smiled. “Thank you.” She shut off the water and turned toward him. “Now, I know you didn’t come out here just to tell me I’m a good cook. What’s up?”

  He shrugged but came closer. “I’ll wash, you dry?”

  Sam nodded. “You talk, I’ll listen.”

  Ronne smiled, and nodded. “Deal.” Soon, his hands were in the dishwater, sponge scrubbing the silverware. “I’m a bit nervous... about, um...” he trailed off, perhaps not wanting to say her name out loud and risk being overheard, but Sam understood.

  “Me, too. That’s understandable.”

  “I’m curious... about the motivation to, uh... join the Rebel Alliance, shall we say?”

  Sam chuckled at that. “Well done, that was smooth.” She sighed, taking the last piece of clean silverware from the dish drainer, and drying it carefully before putting it into it space in the drawer. “I understand what you’re saying. I wish I knew myself.”

  “I just think...” He turned the water on full, swishing a cup back and forth to increase the noise, and, hopefully, prevent anyone outside the room from hearing his voice. “We need to be careful about what we say in front of her.” Ronne turned the water off and returned to the dishes in the sink.

  “Yeah, I know.” Sam paused for a moment, drying the first plate he deposited in the dish drainer. “Um, Frank?’

  “Yeah?’

  Sam searched for the words. “Did you notice anything... familiar... about the way Ben interacts with her?”

  Ronne’s hands stilled, and he turned to look at Sam, and smirked. “Yeah, I noticed.”

  “And?”

  Ronne chuckled. “You mean, is he a Raven?” He shrugged and turned back to the dishes. “He could be. He could just think she’s cute. I have no idea.”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Frank. You know I don’t like that.”

  “Alright, truth?”

  “Yes, please!”

  Ronne sighed, and reached for the dishtowel. “Gut tells me yes, he is. But I have no proof, so...”

  Sam frowned. “We grew up together... if Ben is a Raven...”

  “Then why isn’t he yours?” Ronne finished, then shrugged. “Again, I don’t know. Hudson seems to think it’s a genetic thing... but then again everything is about genetics with him. I guess you could just say certain Ravens and certain Wolves are meant to be.”

  Silence descended after that, and the pair finished washing and drying the dishes without another word. There was no uneasiness in the quiet, though Sam wondered if perhaps Ronne’s feelings were a bit hurt at her questioning their bond.

  Once the evening coffee was brewing, Sam headed for the living room and sat at the now empty table, hands folded, and observed the others. Ben and Alice gathered around his laptop, their heads close together, the nearly-black hair and blonde hair almost mingling, their eyes glued to whatever they were reading on the screen. Ronne, who had left the kitchen after the dishes were finished, stood by the bookcases, his eyes roaming over the titles there.

  Vincent reclined in the chair, his head turned slightly from the pair on the sofa, his eyes closed. Sam reached out with her mind, nudging his, and his eyes snapped open, meeting hers with a fire that made Sam wonder what on Earth he’d been thinking about before she got his attention. She winked at
him, and his gaze softened a bit, a glint of mischief lighting them as he looked back at her.

  Sam’s gazed turned back to Ben and Alice, and she cleared her throat.

  “So, Alice...” The shift in the tension of the room was easily felt, but Sam pushed on. “I don’t want to be offensive, but I’m sure you are expecting some questions from us... from me.”

  Alice’s face was impassive, though her eyes flickered with something Sam couldn’t quite put her finger on... anxiety, maybe? The young woman nodded solemnly.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Well,” Sam began, and she glanced at Vincent again. He was frowning thoughtfully, and she didn’t feel anything negative from him. “Let’s start with the big stuff, I guess. You worked with Strong, all gung-ho and in there... and now you don’t. What changed?”

  “Everything.” Alice sat back on the sofa, her hands in her lap, and she would have looked completely calm and contained, if not for the constant movement of her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “When John and I came to New York, it was supposed to be a limited operation. The objective was to infect, but to contain it among addicts, street people... I know it sounds horrible but—“

  “Yeah, it does,” Ronne said tightly, and glared from his position near the bookcases. Sam gave him a small shake of the head in response... It didn’t do them any good if she stopped talking.

  “The objective was to infect, and to study the effects of the virus. To track it from infection, through conversion, and to collect samples for analysis.”

  “You mean, for Hudson.” Vincent looked at his sister intently, his frown deepening. “Right?”

  Alice’s lips trembled for a brief movement, before she steeled herself and nodded. “Yes, for Hudson. He’s trying to find a treatment, a way to stabilize the virus to allow us to live with it without... without turning into John.”

  Vincent nodded. “John told me it was reversing.”

  “My cover was working for Strong. She, and many others, knew about us. My...abilities... intrigued her, and she took advantage of my instincts and senses when she could. John provided security for her with his wolves.

  “About the time that you were infected,” Alice looked pointedly at Sam, “Some things started to happen that were outside the scope of the original operation. Hudson was too focused on his science, on you, to pay attention, and things got out of hand. John... didn’t realize until after they permitted you to kill Diane that there were things going on we didn’t know about.”

  “Permitted me to kill her?” Sam tried to hide the shock from her face, but her voice gave it away.

  Alice nodded. “Yes. John wasn’t the only wolf in the hospital that day. There were several who could have killed you while you were changing. Hudson wouldn’t allow it. He had... his own reasons for getting rid of Diane.”

  “When you say, ‘outside the scope of the original operation’, what do you mean?” Ronne’s question was a life-saver, and Sam made a mental note to thank him later. If it had been up to her, she would have been sitting there with her mouth hanging open, or she would have followed her instinct to go straight to the good doctor’s office and punch the shit out of him. She shook herself, focusing back on Alice as the young woman answered.

  “It was meant to be scientific, medical research. If Hudson can isolate a way to stabilize the virus... it’s not a cure, but it would allow people to live with the illness. It wouldn’t be a death sentence for everyone else. It could actually allow people to have LV and enjoy the benefits of it.” Alice shook her head. “They wanted to use it for gain. To control people, to eliminate people, to create thugs to clear the political field for them.”

  “Do you have proof?” Ronne moved in even closer to Alice, and, for a moment, Sam thought Vincent might jump up to get between the cop and his sister. He stayed still, though, only the deepening of his frown an indication of his displeasure.

  “She did,” Ben chimed in, his voice startling Sam. “At least, when she still worked for Strong. Once they fired her, she lost her access.”

  “Did you save anything?” Sam asked Alice.

  “Some things, but...” Alice trailed off, and glanced briefly at Ben before she continued. “I know where it all is. Every account, every notation. They’ve kept meticulous records.”

  “Nazis always do,” muttered Sam, then sighed. “You know where it is... Can you access it?”

  Alice shook her head. “Not from her campaign computers. The passwords were changed as soon as they fired me.”

  “I could probably hack them,” Ben said, with a nervous glance at Ronne.

  “No, they’d see ya.” Alice hesitated, her next words directed straight at Sam. “There is... another way. She has a private server in her apartment...”

  Ronne snorted. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He pointed to Ben. “So, him hacking into their campaign server isn’t possible, but breaking into a State Congresswoman’s home to download directly off her server is?” he turned to Sam. “Are you buying this?”

  “I’m not buying anything yet.” Sam could sense the tension from Ben and from Vincent as Alice was challenged. She hated being caught up in the middle, but this did sound a bit far-fetched. “Where does she live? High-rise? House in Brooklyn?”

  “Pomonder Walk.”

  “Oh, Jesus!” Ronne threw up his hands and started to pace in front of the fireplace. Sam didn’t react as strongly, but her frown spoke volumes.

  What’s wrong, love? Vincent was prodding at her to answer, but instead of reaching out to him, Sam spoke out-loud.

  “Pomonder Walk is a gated community on the Upper West Side. Little two-story homes, front gardens, very nice... and very difficult to get into.” Sam recalled going there on one occasion, to interview a witness connected to one of hers and Lenny’s drug cases. It was a lovely little street, jammed between 94th and 95th Streets, and almost completely invisible from those streets. The word “quaint” had come to mind as she entered through the wrought iron gate and went up the staircase into the courtyard. Well-kept gardens were in front of each little cottage, and the bright colors and Old-World design made it feel like she’d stepped into a village in Bavaria.

  Sam sighed. “Alice, you are positive the server is in there, and it has what we need?”

  Alice’s gaze was strong and clear as she nodded. “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

  “And you can get it?”

  “If we can get in, and I have at least five minutes... Yes.”

  Ronne stopped pacing. “I cannot believe you are even considering this.”

  “Frank—“

  “No, I’m serious! News Flash!” Ronne pointed to Alice as he spoke. “This woman isn’t on our side. She forced you to blow up a building in Brooklyn, she contributed to the infection of dozens of people in this city with a deadly virus... Why would we be listening to her again?”

  “Careful, Francis,” Vincent muttered, his hands folded in front of him, though Sam could see them clenched tightly.

  “Vincent, I know she’s your sister, but c’mon! Are you going to allow Sam to put herself in danger doing this?”

  Vincent smirked. “Of course not. I’ll go with them.”

  Shaking his head, Ronne held up his hands. “I’m out then. Sam, thank you for dinner. And be careful.” He nodded curtly, then turned on his heel and left. Seconds later, the front door closed.

  “Right then,” Vincent said as he stood, and turned to his sister. “When will be the best time to go?”

  “She won’t be there in the daytime. She leaves early, around seven, to go to the campaign office in Midtown.”

  “Alarm system? Security?” Sam asked. “What about those?”

  “Alarm system. She controls it by remote.” Alice’s eyes went wide for a moment as realization dawned on her. “Fuck me, I know how we can get in! She always arms the system from the car. A hired car picks her up, but they always wait for fifteen minutes so she can be sure the dog went back in before she arms th
e alarm, and they go.”

  “So, if we can get into, and back out of, the house during that window, we’re home free.”

  Alice nodded eagerly. “Yeah.”

  “How big is this dog?”

  “Black Labrador. Young.”

  “Ah,” Sam said. “Good. If we bring food for it, it might open the door and let us in.” She glanced at the mantle clock. It was early, just after eight, but... “We’d all better get some rest, then. Alice, I’ll get you some towels, and—”

  “I’ll sleep on the sofa,” Ben volunteered, and stood up. “C’mon, Alice, I’ll get you settled.”

  Sam lay in bed half an hour later, wondering if she’d ever seen people get ready for and go to bed so quickly. Alice had showered, and Sam had given her a set of pajamas to wear. By the time Sam had prepared for bed, Alice’s soft, steady breathing indicated she was already asleep. In the living room, Ben had settled in on the sofa, and was deeply engrossed in something on his phone, earphones in.

  Vincent returned from the bathroom a few minutes later, a towel wrapped around his hips and his hair wet from showering. He sat down on the bed, his back to Sam, his head bowed as if tired... or...

  “What’s the matter?” Sam asked, her voice, though barely a whisper, sounding loud in the quiet darkness. He didn’t respond, not even in her mind. “Vincent?” Still no response. Sam quickly sat up in the bed and reached for his shoulder.

  Sensing her movement, Vincent’s hand quickly came up, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “I’m alright, love. Just...tired,” he murmured against her hand, nuzzling it, and kissing it again.

  Sam felt the fire that had been kindling all evening flare to life, and she quickly acted on it, moving into his lap, and eager embrace. She’d always been an undergarments-while-sleeping kind of girl... perhaps because of her old-fashioned upbringing... but Vincent had changed that, and now it was unusual for Sam to actual sleep with panties on. In fact, the tee shirt she was wearing was a concession to others being in the apartment, so that, if she had to get up in the middle of the night, she didn’t give the guests a show. But right now, it was a private viewing, and, as Sam straddled Vincent, she pulled the tee shirt over her head, leaving her naked in his lap. She could feel the dampness still on his skin from showering as she pressed closer to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and surrendering herself to his expert kissing.