by Kim Schubert
I sighed, looking up at him, shrugging. “That’s your decision.”
He gave me a long look before leaving. I didn’t understand what was happening beneath his gaze, and I didn’t care.
“So, wanna go on a goose chase today?” I asked with false excitement rubbing my hands together.
Blake raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Why not?”
Making our way back to the living room, I found Tate alone sitting at the same sofa where we had left him. “What’s wrong?” I asked unnerved by his stillness and sheer lack of emotion.
Tate leaned back, staring at something off in the distance. “The Vampire Council has been alerted to what is occurring here,” he said, bringing his attention to me before standing. “Since we are the test subjects on our coming out, they find our…” he hesitated, trying to find the right word, “developments very entertaining.”
I cringed. Politics were annoying; vampire politics tempted me to an already earlier grave. Tate must be the master of the Centennial house, and from the sounds of it, their revealing themselves was not on his to-do list, but the Vampire Council ran all the houses across the world, no matter Tate’s disapproval of their decision.
I blew out a breath, forcing a confidence I didn’t really feel. “No worries; we’ll figure this out.”
Tate nodded, his attention back to his own thoughts. Blake tugged my hand, pulling me away from his dismal master. He kept my hand, pulling me close in the hallway, his slow smile showing just the tips of his fangs. My eyes were consumed by that view.
Gently, he pushed a gun into the back of my pants, his fingers running over the delicate flesh, before slipping my favorite throwing dagger into my back pocket, letting his hands graze my panty line.
“How did you get those?” I asked huskily.
“You were out of it for a while. I had to get your affairs in order,” he said, moving away, leading me to the garage and his own version of a beast.
I laughed as he clicked the garage door open; boys and their toys.
“So, my fair lady, where are we headed?” Blake asked, sliding behind the wheel.
Nestling my head against the plush leather, I exhaled verbally, organizing a to-do list. “Well, my dear driver, I need to head to Thurgood High School and interview the teachers and nurse. I also need to follow up with Kass to be sure everything is going smoothly. And I need to catch up with Mercer on the investigation. Oh, and I probably need to figure out if this connection with the undead goes both ways.”
Blake tapped the steering wheel, backing out of the garage. “How about we hit up Mercer at the police station first?”
I nodded, organizing all the things I needed to ask him.
Chapter 10
The police station was silent as we parked and headed in. This time, I had the forethought to stop for coffee for myself and Mercer.
Finding Mercer’s desk empty, Blake and I perched on the edge, trying not to scare the other occupants of the police station. At least, I was trying not to scare them; Blake may have been smiling so widely they all got a shot at his extended canines. Giving him a playful shove, I raised an eyebrow as I leaned towards him. “Quit it,” I whispered.
Blake feigned innocence, moving his attention to something behind me. Turning, I offered Mercer his coffee, which he ignored. Standing up, I turned to face him, setting his coffee on an empty space on his cluttered desk. Mercer was angry. Aside from the hot scent I was picking up, he had yet to make eye contact with me.
“Mercer?” I tried softly as he sat down forcefully in his chair.
He finally raised his light eyes to my own. “What’s wrong?” I asked, gently leaning toward him as Blake twisted around to watch him.
His lips pulled away from his teeth in a snarl, slamming his hands on the desk as he catapulted towards me. “What’s wrong?” he hissed, looking disgustedly at Blake then at me.
“Did you think you could manipulate me that easily?” he hissed, pressing his finger just under my collarbone. “I know what you are, demon; you’re not welcome here anymore.”
I felt my heart constrict and a cold frost gripped my heart. Closing my eyes, I turned away from him, walking out of the police station. Blake stayed to growl something nasty at Mercer, I’m sure, but I didn’t even bother. I had defended myself until I was blue in the face; once they called me demon, they never came back around, but more importantly, I didn’t want or need him. I sighed, shoving my hands in my pockets as Blake unlocked the SUV, grumbling.
Blake drove in silence for a few minutes before saying anything. “He’s wrong, Olivia,”
Resting the back of my head against his leather headrest, I answered, “It doesn’t matter, Blake. He has made his decision.” I shrugged. Mercer was meaningless, but it was an important lesson, I was letting others too close. My guards had been fractured; where, I couldn’t recall, but now, more than ever, I needed to bolster them.
I needed to keep anyone and everyone away from my emotions; they were dangerous to me. I had learned how to control mine long ago, but the damage others could wreck on me, that was where the real danger lay.
“You are not a demon,” he said as if it were important I believed that.
I gave him a small smile, reaching out to pat his forearm. “It doesn’t matter, Blake. This isn’t new; it never will be.” I sighed, turning my attention back to the road; I just wished it wouldn’t sting so badly, but that’s what happens when I let my guard down. Foolish, foolish me.
The simple truth was that I didn’t know if being a succubus was being a demon. All the lore I had ever encountered claimed we were soul suckers that could twist and take the soul of a human. Thus far, with all the horrible things I had seen and done, that had not made my list of abilities. If this case was teaching me anything, it was that to take a soul of another being took a hatred and evilness that I had yet to acquire. Give it time, though; a few more people turning on me, and I might change my tune.
Blake blew out a breath he didn’t need before asking, “Where to now?”
I squinted at the midday sun exhaling my own breath, “You wouldn’t happen to know where Thurgood Marshall is located?”
Blake pulled over, shifting the SUV into park before using the large touch-screen console. “I do not; however, I can find it.”
I smiled. “Well, ain’t you fresh and modern for an old fella,” I said, trying my best Southern accent on.
His look was priceless, and I couldn’t help but throw my head back, laughing, which seemed to make him happy as he sported his own smile, selecting the correct settings before pulling back onto the road, his GPS system guiding us.
Chapter 11
Two hours later, we pulled into the elite, private, and difficult-to-get-into Thurgood Marshall High School. Without Blake’s ability to glamour the guards, I would have had to hog-tie them just to make it past the first set of gates. Having a partner was turning out to be handy—my mood soured when I thought of Mercer’s anger and dismissal—handy but dangerous for my underworked emotions.
Walking up the stone steps of the castle-like structure, I tried to organize a plan of attack here. “Principal first?” I asked with a half shrug.
Blake shook his head. “Who do you want to talk with first? The principal will probably shut us down and have us escorted out forcefully.”
I thought about that as we continued up the stairs to the large ornately carved wooden doors. Blake held the door open for me as I answered. “The nurse, I am hoping, will have information regarding their medical history. Speaking of which, did Gunner find anything from the samples?” I asked, as we headed down the long hallway lined with lockers.
Blake shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
The nurse’s office was thankfully vacant of students, and Blake didn’t need to glamour her long in order to gain her cooperation.
Probably due to Blake’s gorgeous smile, this plump, middle-aged nurse was willing to divulge all sorts of private and personal information w
ith a gentle nudge. Apparently HIPPA didn’t apply to supernaturals; I’d have to remember that for future reference.
“You didn’t notice anything strange or out of the ordinary about the students in question?” Blake asked, leaning forward in his seat, batting those brilliant baby blue eyes.
I kept back, trying to be invisible, as Blake continued the seduction of information.
She tilted her head, tapping a finger against her chin. “The only thing they all had in common, to my knowledge, was that they all needed blood work and physicals for a new program Mr. Davis was organizing.”
“Is Mr. Davis available this afternoon?” Blake asked seamlessly.
She twisted her fingers hesitantly. “Lauren?” Blake prompted temptingly as her shoulders relaxed, tilting her head to the side dreamily.
She smiled. He hadn’t used glamour more than once. Amazing, I had seriously underestimated his skills.
She peeked up at him through lowered lashes, blushing at his suave smile.
“He took some time off, but I might know his home address,” Lauren said, biting on her bottom lip.
Blake balanced an elbow on her desk mirroring her enamored expression. “What would it take to get said address?” he whispered.
Blushing again, she sent a gaze my way, her face falling, remembering I was still there. Standing up quickly, I pulled my phone out. “Call,” I said abruptly, fleeing the room to give him privacy.
I sighed against the closed door, moving away from it once the soft moaning began; I didn’t want to hear any of that.
I was sitting in the waiting room, as far as I could get from the closed door, when Blake emerged, wiping his mouth. Cringing, I stood and headed to the door when his hand turned me towards him. “What?” I asked briskly.
“I didn’t sleep with her,” he said, breathless, his blue eyes boring into my own.
I blinked; a few choice responses flooding my brain. “It’s none of my business,” I said, turning to open the door, he turned me towards him again.
My irritation spiked, and I let it flow into his hand. “Shit,” he said, pulling back and staring at his hand.
I crossed my arms across my chest. “Why is it so important that I know this?” I asked.
He glanced at his hand then back to me, stepping closer. “It is,” he said with heavy emphasis on both words.
I shook my head, exiting the nurse’s waiting room and got into the SUV. I left it at that, but he didn’t. “What was that?” he asked, sparing a glance my way.
“You mean what you felt?” I asked to his nod. “My emotions, I didn’t bother to hold them in.” I shrugged. “It usually doesn’t hurt.”
He shook his head. “It didn’t; it was just different.” He flexed his large hand against the steering wheel before asking, “Can you do that with all your emotions?”
“Yes,” I answered, regarding him warily. I had a sinking feeling where this was going.
“Man, sex with you must be amazing,” he said, giving me a boyish grin.
I rolled my eyes. Yep, that’s exactly where I thought it was going.
“What?” he asked as I turned to look out my window.
“Nothing, Blake,” I said sadly.
“Shit, Olivia, I didn’t mean—” he started before I interrupted him.
“You didn’t mean to imply that the only reason anyone ever sleeps with me is due to enhanced sensations?” I asked coldly.
“Shit,” he said again, going silent.
Yep, right. I sighed, attempting to lighten my mood. “Being the Kitten makes me a trophy fuck as well,” I said, trying for a smile, but thinking it was more of a grimace.
Blake huffed a response, and I shut up.
I was staring out at the landscape, hunched into myself, when Blake’s cell phone went off. He cast me a look before hitting a button on his steering wheel, sending Mallory’s angry voice into the SUV’s speakers.
“Get your ass over here now, Blake. If I have to deal with these malicious, sick, and demented protestors any longer, I am going to kill them all.” She over pronounced each word, making it drip with venom.
Blake rested his head against the headrest as we moved onto the freeway. “Mallory, I am with Olivia attempting to hunt down the beast responsible for the killings; can this wait?”
“No,” she hissed and hung up.
Blake exited the highway and got back on going the other direction pounding the steering wheel with an intensity that had me taking a peek at the muscles in his clenching jaw.
I reached over and tapped his hand. “Do you want some help with you anger?” I asked softly.
“No,” he growled at me, “I am not the out-of-control shifter.”
I smiled, running my eyes over the flexing muscle in his bicep. “No, you are not,” I said quietly.
An hour later, we were at the Centennial Compound. I meant that in the exact definition of the word "compound." It was an old castle they had restored on the outskirts of town, complete with a moat, and exterior guard wall. We parked in the modern and out-of-place parking garage walking to the elaborately carved wooden gates.
Blake stalked quickly down stairwells into the basement and I jogged to keep up with his long strides. The security let me pass since I was with the head of security, but I did receive a few looks. Barreling into a steel door, I bumped into his back, squeaking slightly. He kept blocking the door with his massive frame as Mallory started yelling at him.
“DO you have any idea what I have been putting up with all fucking day?” she yelled. “Those fucking religious fanatics have been throwing holy water on our people! Attacking them with silver! Where the fuck have you been?”
I felt the tension in Blake as he blocked the doorway radiate out in waves. He had declined my help, so I kept my hands to myself, but his blocking the door was annoying. They must have been staring at each other for at least three minutes before I called out, “Hi, Mal.”
Blake moved to let me by. “Olivia,” Mallory said with her back to me. Her voice sounded soft and I could image why. I moved behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist drawing in the pain, frustration, and the terror she might fail to keep her people safe. I stayed that way until I felt her shoulders relax against me.
“Thanks,” she whispered, softly pulling away.
I staggered slightly, leaning against the desk with a million high-tech gadgets, displaying the outside mess of protestors.
Blake had finally entered the room sitting behind me.
“What do you want me to do?” Blake asked, the anger and hostility dripping from each word.
“Fix it,” Mallory growled massaging her temples.
“How?” Blake asked, standing and throwing a keyboard against the wall. “How the fuck am I supposed to fix it?”
“I don’t know, but you are the fucking head of security. FIX IT!” Malory finished, screaming the last words.
Fangs extended from Blake’s gums followed by Mal’s in a wet sucking sound. I smartly backed away so I was no long in between the two. I liked both of them, but they wouldn’t be paying attention to the collateral damage, which included me and the high-tech gizmos here.
Turning away from the staring and hissing contest, I took in the rest of the room. It was larger than I had initially thought, a long room, leading down into a tiered auditorium of sorts. Each level had vamps behind a computer screen busily monitoring the exterior and interior of the compound.
Stepping down to the second level, I sat next to a dark-haired petite vamp with a pencil skirt and button-down blouse.
We both cringed when we heard Tate start screaming.
“Is there any way you can get the names and addresses of the protestors?” I asked softly.
She raised an eyebrow, said nothing, continuing to typing on her computer. I hoped she was doing as I asked. I shifted my view to the massive screen in front of us, watching the anger and hatred pour out of the protestors, screaming and yelling. The worst had to be the small child
ren in their mists. Protective ran heavy in my nature, even of children who were not mine.
I drummed my fingers on the desk, only half listening to the breaking of furniture behind us.
“Do you have a plan?” the petite vampire asked, breaking her silence.
“I have the beginnings of one. Can you also find out their jobs, churches, and where their children go to school, please?” I asked as nicely as possible, which for me was something.
“Only if you get them to stop breaking things,” she replied grumpily.
I nodded, turning back to the noise and standing with a sigh. “I have an idea,” I stated louder than needed, they did have enhanced hearing.
They all stopped in various crouched positions around the room. Mal raised an eyebrow, so I added, “No it doesn’t involve killing anyone.” Unfortunately.
Tate straightened out first, adjusting his black button-down shirt into his olive green slacks. “Olivia, how nice to see you,” he greeted, recovering quickly.
I gave him a rueful smile, climbing out of the pit to survey the damage. The sofa seemed intact, so I carefully perched on it.
Mallory tossed her hair over a shoulder before coming to sit next to me, glaring at Tate and Blake the entire time. “So, before any of this can be implemented, there needs to be an intelligence gathering session, which I believe one of your employees is working on. “
Blake, his black hair disheveled, moved to right a chair that had somehow survived the trip across the room to also sit down.
Tate remained standing, clearly a power move, but I wasn’t going to point that out. I did have a shred of common sense.
“So the greatest problem I can see is not that the protestors are harming your housemates, but the fact that the feeling of safety in your house has been compromised,” I surmised.
Tate growled, avoiding eye contact with me. “I’ll take that as a—” He turned toward me, his eyes highlighted in amber.
