Blood Entangled

by Amber Belldene

  “Is she your mother’s sister?”

  In spite of the tension in his body and the air, he chuckled. “Uta? No.”

  “She can’t be Andre’s sister.”

  “No, she’s not really our aunt. She’s Bel’s godmother.” Of their own accord, his fingers curled around the steering wheel. “She was close to my mother and very close to Bel. But when mother killed herself, Uta abandoned Bel. It was terribly cruel. I can’t forgive her for it, and I know Bel hasn’t either.”

  “Are you sure she’s still alive? Could the wasting disease have killed her?”

  “No, she’s even older than Andre, which makes her the strongest vampire I know.”

  The chatter carried them across the Golden Gate Bridge. They drove into San Francisco just as Kos’s phone rang. Vania.

  “All clear?” he asked.

  “Yes. You weren’t followed. You’re safe to proceed to Kearney’s house.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you back at Kaštel.”

  Vania blurted a final warning. “You’re a fool to let her go.”

  He hung up. So what if his heart was breaking. If he tried to keep her, hearts, bodies and lives would break one day too, and it would be worse. Much worse. At a stoplight, he turned to look at Lena, who was straight and motionless, taught as the skin on a ripe grape. The force she was exerting to hold in her emotions was impressive. Surprising she didn’t tremble with it.

  Mason lived near the bridge in Pacific Heights. Pulling up to his house, Kos felt nostalgic, or maybe sentimental. No, neither of those were the right words. He just remembered. All the years he’d spent—visiting Mason, chasing women, wasting time—they flashed before his eyes, making him feel empty.

  “Nice house,” she said quietly. Indeed, on a block of nice houses, his was the biggest and best maintained, as always.

  Ethan parked his car on Union Street and answered his phone. “Bennett.”

  “It’s Derek. I’ve got news.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Marasović’s distributor is expecting a shipment of their Blood Vine any day now. Let’s be sure it arrives.”

  “Indeed, it could be a trail of bread crumbs, leading us right to the other vampires.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Good work, Derek.” Ethan hung up.

  He grabbed a paper sack and walked a block up Lyon Street, where he slid into the passenger seat of the car he’d rented for Gwen. Handing her a sandwich, he said, “Best deli in the city. It’s not New York, but it’s not bad. Extra peppers for you.”

  A crease formed between her eyebrows, and she glanced away, reaching into the bag. “Thank you.”

  When he’d ordered the sandwich, he’d heard her lilt. “The spicier the better.” He had no idea if Zoey liked spicy food. Gwen had invaded his mind little by little, but that was how tectonic plates shifted, slowly moving entire continents, building up enough pressure to fuel volcanic eruptions and earthquakes.

  “Seen Kearney?”

  She held her sandwich aloft, pausing before she took her first bite. “No. Just a middle-aged man. Pudgy. Short. Definitely not Mason.”

  Ah. Mason, was it? She knew him well then, and apparently he was not short or pudgy. No surprise there. Vampires were fit by nature, and attractive by selection.

  At the sight of the unassuming Pac Heights mansion, deeply bred instincts rose up in Ethan. He reached for his phone to call in the Hunters. They could storm the house and take down Kearney so easily—but, no. He patted his phone where it remained in his pocket, feeling the rough lump of the toy soldier alongside it. Mastery of his instincts set him apart from the Hunters, and qualified him to lead them. They could point and shoot, but he could orchestrate a war of strategy. Mason Kearney was his newest pawn.

  “How did the assault go?” Gwen asked.

  “Poorly. They have an invisible shield around the estate. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. And as soon as someone in the house saw smoke, they extended the damn thing to the boundary of the property. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was magic.”

  “You believe in vampires, but not magic?”

  “I’ve seen vampires.”

  “Sounds like you’ve seen magic as well.” She scolded him like the professor she was.

  It was a taunt, a challenge, and it gave him an erection. When her stakeout was over, he would take her back to his apartment and remind her who was boss. The backseat was too risky. Although, he could keep an eye peeled if she leaned over and—

  A Mercedes pulled up, and Kosjenic Marasović and his girlfriend stepped out. The vampire tilted his nose up to the air. Could he smell Ethan? The foggy wind was nearly a gale, and the Presidio’s eucalyptus trees were pungent. He’d thought he was safe. Then Marasović was all eyes for the woman, and Ethan knew he was in the clear.

  “That’s my target’s son and the blood slave.”

  In the vineyard, the blonde had clung to the vampire like a lifeline, and he had grasped her protectively in turn. Ethan was surprised he was pawning her off on this Kearney, though the vampire’s bunched shoulders made him look less than pleased about it. Did he know what kind of punishments Kearney could deal out? Of course, that was still only a suspicion.

  Kearny burst from the front door, well-dressed and slick. Gwen shuddered, shaking the car and confirming Ethan’s suspicion. The vampire had severely traumatized her. Ethan both hated him for it and was rather grateful. Kearney had turned her into Ethan’s perfect match.

  Zoey had looked lovely, stalking through the blackened and ashy vineyard like it was just another conference room for her to command. And, as always, she’d willfully challenged him. Once he had thought he liked her assertiveness, but thanks to Gwen he knew what he really wanted was to break Zoey. Maybe he could learn from this Kearney just how to go about turning a brilliant woman into his masochistic pet.

  For now, he had Gwen, already satisfyingly submissive.

  “What do we do?” she whispered.

  “We watch. We wait. Soon, we will get the girl. She is clearly that vampire’s Achilles’ heel.”

  “I want to rescue her from Mason.”

  He patted her knee. “Of course we will.”

  Chapter 19

  KOS’S CHEST SQUEEZED so tight he could barely breathe. Lena stepped out of the car. Leaving. Forever.

  He stood and reached his hand over the top of the car. “Lena, wait.”

  She spun, looking from his hand to his face.

  “No, Kos. It’s time.”

  Mason exploded from the front door, looking the same as ever—an exquisitely cut, exquisitely expensive suit, hair a little messier than the clean cut of their carousing days, as current style demanded. His face held that blinding smile.

  “Hello, beautiful.”

  Lena smiled at him, lowering her eyelids, clearly pleased by the compliment. Hadn’t Kos praised her beauty enough already?

  “Hi, old buddy.” Mason offered his hand.

  Kos returned the grasp. “Good to see you, Mason.”

  “Please, come inside.”

  Mason interrogated Kos about what he’d been doing lately, Kos answered absently, watching Lena take in the house from the corner of his eye. Mason’s home was stylish, always up to date, which made it a stark contrast to the stodgy Kaštel Estate. Another reason this was a good place for her—after all, Kos was only slightly less aloof to fashion than Andre.

  On a dime, Mason’s face went blank, revealing he’d lost interest in Kos’s news. He’d always grown bored easily.

  “Where is the lovely Lena?” He turned, looking for her.

  She occupied the doorway of a sitting room, peering in, but too polite to enter without an invitation.

  “Please, lovely, let’s go in and have a seat.”

  Lovely? How slimy, a nickname already.

  She sat down on a sofa, and Mason sat next to her and leaned in. Lena stilled, understanding he was sniffing her. Andre had probably done the same thing to her wh
en they first met.

  Mason looked up, narrowing his eyes at Kos. “I thought you said she was Andre’s. Your scent is all over her.”

  Krist. He’d forgotten about that part. Lena jerked her head to stare at Kos, eyes brimming with tears. Shit. She did not need this. What would spare her dignity?

  “Mason, Lena works for Andre, but we’ve become friends. She is very dear to me, as are you. I’m pleased she will be working for someone I trust. I apologize if our intimate good-bye offends your sense of propriety, but she wasn’t yours yet.”

  Mason leaned back into the cushion, pressing his palms together and steepling his fingers. “Of course. Who wouldn’t want to say a thorough farewell to a women as stunning as Lena?”

  Cold sweat broke out on Kos’s hands.

  Lena had wiped her tears quickly, before Mason noticed, but she was trembling, poor thing, her emotions finally shaking her composure. He could relate. But she was stronger than him, had risked her heart on him, even after Andre had crushed it once. A weaker woman would have trained herself to feel less.

  And suddenly, he knew—life in a household would never work for her.

  Mason continued to speak to her, but Kos couldn’t hear them. Why hadn’t he seen it before? She was too passionate, too sensitive to be used that way. Blood service would always be exploitation for her.

  He interrupted their chitchat. “Lena, I just thought of something. Can I speak to you?”

  Again, Mason glared. Kos ignored him.

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I’m just getting to know Mason. Can you tell me another time?”

  “No, it really can’t wait. I forgot until now.”

  “Lena, let me make sure your room is ready.” Mason settled the matter by blurring out of the room.

  “What is it?” she snapped.

  He didn’t care if Mason could hear, the words just poured out: “Lena, you can’t stay here. I see now, it’s all wrong. You’re not cut out for this life. Let’s go back to Kaštel and start from scratch. You need a real, human life.”

  “No.”

  “Listen to me. This isn’t going to make you happy. It’s going to kill all your passion and generosity.”

  “You have no right to tell me what will make me happy. There is only one thing you can say that will make me leave with you, and if it’s not on offer, then I’ll find my destiny with someone else.”

  Her ocean blue eyes blazed with the same raw look he’d seen when they’d made love. It was a challenge—admit he felt the same way, or deny it.

  She deserved the truth.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, rolled his shoulders, tried to work up his nerve. “I love you, Lena. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. But we can’t be together. It never lasts. And then we would end up like my mother and father, broken, if not dead. I can’t do that to you.”

  “You love me?” The tears spilled down her face.

  “Yes. Which is why I can’t keep you.”

  Her thumb came up to her mouth, and she bit the nail as the tears flowed. She wiped them away with the back of her hand and sniffed, shifting her feet and standing straighter.

  “I don’t know whether you’re a liar or a coward, but I want you to leave. Don’t come back.”

  And then Mason was back with smug smile that showed he’d heard the whole thing.

  Kos didn’t say another word; he turned and left. How many barrels of Blood Vine would it take to drown this feeling? He drove back to Kaštel as quickly as possible, determined to find out.

  Lena faced Mason, and her knees went weak. She locked them, reaching for the back of a chair. God she was tired. Could probably sleep for a week. “I’m sorry about all that. We should have had our words in the car, but I stonewalled him. It’s not his fault.”

  “I understand, he’s remarkably sensitive. Always has been.”

  “Yes, he is.” She rubbed her eyes with her fists.

  “You’re tired. It seems Kos’s good-byes have worn you out.”

  Charmed in spite of herself, her lips pulled into a tight smile. “That’s true.”

  “What do you say to an early night? We can get better acquainted tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow? No, damn it. She wanted to get this over with, needed to move on, find her destiny.

  “Mason, if it’s all right with you, I would like to get acquainted tonight.”

  His eyes moved up and down her body. Her skin grew hot under his gaze, but goose bumps sprung on her arms and legs. He didn’t answer. Oh, God. Maybe he didn’t like her.

  “I mean if you want to…”

  He strode to her in two longs steps and wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger, tugging it gently. “Ah. It’s like that, is it? They didn’t want you.”

  She bit her lip and nodded, trying to hold back another round of stinging tears.

  “They’re fools, then. Let me show you to your room. You can get settled, and then find me when you’re ready.”

  He didn’t have to spell out what she would be ready for.

  Her room was unbelievably luxurious, decorated in cream, and gray, and slate blue. Her muscles eased, and a little energy returned to her bones.

  “It’s lovely, thank you.”

  Through the bathroom door, her eyes lighted on a Jacuzzi tub. Nothing sounded better than a long soak.

  His hand grazed her shoulder and traced a line down her arm. “I’m glad you like it. Would you like to take a bath and then meet me in my room at the end of the hall?”

  Her throat closed up, but she forced it open with a swallow. “Yes. That sounds great.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” He brushed his lips on her cheek. They were as cool as the colors in the room. They sent no electric sparks through her, and that was soothing too.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I hope I’ll be a satisfactory addition to your household.”

  “Lena, you couldn’t possibly be more to my liking.”

  How could he know that already?

  He sped from the room in that stealthy vampire way, and she turned on the hot water tap. She found bubble bath scented with wild angelica, which invaded her yard back home in Alaska every spring. The body aches she had acquired over eighteen hours in bed with Kos melted away in the water. The heartaches, not so much.

  She lost track of time, but the water cooled eventually, and she dried off. A white shirt box with a white satin ribbon lay at the foot of the bed. How had he come in without her hearing? Sneaky vampire.

  Inside the box was an elegant cream silk negligee that would fall just past her knees. It wasn’t frilly or garish like most lingerie. Its simple, clean lines were trimmed in blue lace, which matched her eyes perfectly. How on earth had he managed that? And because San Francisco was always too cold for sexy nightwear, there was a matching cashmere robe—to die for.

  Not exactly a ball gown, but she felt a little like a princess, which somehow seemed like a betrayal of Kos. Only, she didn’t owe him anything.

  Underneath the robe was a note card. “Why bother dressing? Just come in something more comfortable.”

  She floated down the hall on a raft of expectations. Her feet hardly touched the bamboo floors. She knocked, and Mason opened the door, wearing white silk pajama bottoms that matched her nightie and no shirt to hide his muscular frame. He was all bulky muscle—that explained why he’d looked so good in his suit. His body was sexy, if very different from Kos’s lean, sculpted one.

  He stood still, knowing she was appraising him, and his eyes glinted. “I hope I’m to your liking.”

  She blew air from between her lips. “You’re handsome and I think you know it.” It took all her nerve to keep cool as she spoke, but he bared his teeth in a hungry smile. She’d earned herself some respect.

  His bedroom looked out over the street, past the houses across the way and onto San Francisco Bay. Thousands of shining lights from Alcatraz, from boats on the water, and on the hillside across the bay glinted in a larg
e bay window. A chaise lounge faced the window, and Mason dropped himself onto it.

  “Come sit with me.” He flung his legs up and gestured that he wanted her between them.

  She tried to be graceful as she climbed across one of his legs and positioned herself there. He sat upright and pulled her by the hips close enough to lean against his hard chest. So far, that was the only part of him that felt hard, which was just fine. She preferred to take things slow.

  He ran his hands up the outside of her arms, the pleasant gesture not at all sexual. “Kos said you come from a family of householders?”

  “Yes, on my paternal grandmother’s side. She raised me for service.”

  “And you decided to follow in her footsteps?” His voice was soft and low, vibrating against her back in a soothing bass tone.

  “Yes. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

  “Lucky for me.”

  It was so nice to have someone take pains to flatter her. “It’s kind of you to say so.”

  “Tell me what you like about serving a vampire.”

  “At Andre’s, I enjoyed being part of a big household and cooking for all the women. I love being bitten; Andre seems to think I find it especially potent.”

  “Does he? How delightful.”

  Regret squeezed her heart. “He didn’t think so.”

  “We’ve already agreed he is a fool.”

  She giggled, and some of the pressure unwound. “And I want the pleasure of a bite while making love.”

  A loud burst of laughter erupted from Mason, surprising her.

  “Ah, Lena, you sound like Kos. You should know, I have no intention of making love to you.” He pulled her robe down off her shoulders and ran his fingers up and down her neck, like he was prospecting veins and arteries to find the juiciest one.

  His touch sped up her pulse, made her skin tingle. She sighed, collapsing into him. “That’s good, I couldn’t take any more of it. I want a professional arrangement.”

  “Perfect. Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  With his tongue and his lips, he tasted and teased the sensitive skin on her throat in a way neither Andre nor Kos ever had. Then, he struck without warning, piercing her flesh. She tensed, and fear flooded her veins until his bite relaxed her, helping her to remember that she was submitting willingly.