I thought of Mandy and her relationship with Serena. They were already struggling to make the long-distance thing work with Serena going to school in Columbia. Mandy wouldn’t want to leave St. Louis, but there was a slim chance I could convince her to move to Chicago or Memphis, where the next two closest field offices were located. Though, she wouldn’t be thrilled about it, and I wouldn’t be mad if she refused. This was my problem, not hers.
I didn’t even consider Collins. There was no way I’d ask him to move simply because I couldn’t keep my fangs in my mouth around Roman, and I had a feeling Collins was on his way out of my life anyway. I didn’t blame him. Getting away from me was the safe, sane thing to do.
I’d have to sell my mother’s house. Affording the taxes and utilities and maintenance on top of living expenses in a new city would be too much to manage. I’d also have to make arrangements to interview new harem donors—whether Mandy decided to come with me or not. And then there was the matter of giving up my personal, off-the-record hunt for Scarlett.
That one would really smart. But Roman…
He was worth a hundred discarded vendettas.
I glanced across the front seat of the SUV again, taking in the ragged mess he’d become for my sake and affection. I wanted to beg him to bypass the office and drive us straight on through to Spero Heights. We could change our names and carve out a little place for ourselves in the Midnight District. I’d work in a cheese factory if it meant having him to myself every night.
Knowing how long and how hard he’d worked for his current status was the only thing keeping me from making the suggestion. He’d risked too much for me already.
It was true that there were plenty of unsanctioned, half-sired donors out in the world. Most of them escaped the scrutiny of Blood Vice by keeping their noses clean and their heads down. But that wasn’t how things worked within the noble families.
If they wanted to keep a finger in the political pot, they had to play by the rules, which meant formally requesting permission to half-sire or turn a donor. The noble families also paid vampiric taxes and pledged a scion to Blood Vice every century as part of their blood tithe to House Lilith and the high council. In return, they were granted certain privileges and precedence.
If I tried to make off with Vanessa’s potential scion, she’d hunt me down, and she’d do it with House Lilith’s blessing and all of Blood Vice’s resources to assist her. She’d go after my harem. Then she’d go after my sister.
A cold bitterness slithered into my heart.
I had to stop wanting something I couldn’t have—something that would destroy the few people I cared about in the world. Requesting the transfer was my only hope of getting through this unscathed.
Roman’s hand found mine and squeezed. “You’re thinking too hard,” he said softly, his thumb skimming my knuckles. “One of the detail units will pick up Miller. Then we’ll interrogate her and find out where Ursula is. We could have her delivered to the duke by morning.”
He thought I was worried about the case. I nodded, not trusting my voice. The Spero Heights escape plan still lingered on the tip of my tongue, so I bit it.
This is only the lifeblood bond, I tried to convince myself. This isn’t love. This can’t be love.
But even if it were, it didn’t matter. There was no get-out-of-jail-free card for lovers in the Blood Decree. We could be in love all we wanted.
That didn’t mean I could call Roman mine.
* * * * *
It took everything I had to face Vanessa again. I trained my eyes on her desk, at the space between her hands. She stood in front of her chair, leaning forward with her palms down, dark fingernails clicking against the glossy wood.
Roman waited beside me, hands folded behind his back, same as mine. It was the expected, respectful stance for briefing a superior. Tonight, with his bandaged wrist tucked under the cuff of his jacket, it felt more like we were trying to cover up a crime. Which, we absolutely were. I wondered if Vanessa could tell the difference.
“The Moreau Pack is the third largest in St. Louis County and the seventh largest in the state,” she said, eyes focused on me. For once, I was glad for it. “And you just took a bite out of their alpha’s brother—after he cooperated and answered your questions.” She inhaled deeply and licked her lips. “Do you understand what you’ve done? The can of worms you’ve opened?”
I choked down my pride and dignity. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” She laughed, but it was a hateful sound. “And if I were you, I probably wouldn’t be sorry either. But I’m not you. I’m the one who gets to clean up your mess. I’m the one who has to kiss ass to a mangy wolf for the sake of keeping his pack in line.”
I scowled at her. “His pack—his own brother—was helping Scarlett turn homeless teens into sex slaves. That doesn’t sound very in line to me.”
Vanessa’s eyes turned black, silencing my outburst. “I’m sick of hearing about Scarlett. I’ve warned you, Skye.”
I ground my teeth. I was sick of thinking about Scarlett. My recent peek into Roman’s past only made me despise her more. I wondered if that history troubled Vanessa, too. Was that why she’d taken Roman off the baroness’s case as soon as she made captain?
After a tense moment of silence, Vanessa’s pupils shrank back to a more human size. “Preventing supernatural anarchy is one of our top priorities at Blood Vice. Instigating it is not on the agenda. It’s the exact opposite of your job. You’re a loose cannon, and you’re lucky the duke is so convinced of your worth, or you’d be facing termination over that little stunt.”
“We’re closing in on Ursula,” Roman offered, attempting to relieve the tension and remove some of the heat from me despite his condition.
“Only if this last-ditch lead pans out,” Vanessa said.
It almost sounded as if she hoped it wouldn’t, just so she’d have a justifiable reason to get rid of me. I knew she didn’t want an unsolved case on her resume so soon after her promotion, but it was beginning to seem like the lesser of two evils.
I’d given her plenty of reasons to want me gone. I’d been obsessed with a case that wasn’t mine. I’d been neglectful with the one that was. And I was, according to Collins, not well respected by the rest of the team.
To be fair, I hadn’t made much of an effort to interact with any of them outside of my own unit. The overwhelming majority of Blood Vice agents were vampires. Dr. Delph had called that one. I wasn’t particularly fond of my new kin.
I thought of Sonja Starling and the timid friendship we’d formed at the bat cave. I guessed they couldn’t all be so sensible and humane. So many of the vampires that I’d met were either cold and detached or scathing vipers. A few fell somewhere in between. Like Vanessa.
Being around them felt like playing a game of bipolar hot potato. You never knew whether they’d play by the rules or go off course and hurl the potato at your face instead. Or sidestep and let it splat on the floor. They were house cat moody and jungle cat dangerous. And I was supposed to be one of them now.
“You look like shit,” Vanessa said—to Roman rather than me, though I was the one who jumped at her words.
“I skipped sleep to search through security footage from Bleeders.” Roman shrugged.
I sighed and nodded in confirmation. “Didn’t you say that you were due for anointment soon?” I stifled my envy and aimed for a casual tone as I turned back to Vanessa. “Maybe you should do that sooner rather than later. You’ll want him to bring his A-game when we pick up Miller. She’s a pro.”
Vanessa’s pupils swelled again. She stood up straighter, pulling her hands away from the desk. “Are you trying to tell me how to manage my harem, vampling?”
Vampling. Clearly, I’d struck a nerve.
“No, ma’am.”
I became very interested in the toes of my shoes as Vanessa circled her desk to stand in front of me. It was her favorite intimidation tactic. She didn’t have to scream or get
belligerent. She’d just invade my personal space and get very quiet. Deathly still.
In those silent moments, I could feel the way her power resonated from within. The way it reached out and tried to dominate me, tried to smother me into submission. She wanted to make sure that I knew she was better than me. That she deserved to be here, and I was just some fleeting pet project of the duke’s.
The idea seemed to drive her crazy, as if she felt threatened by my swift climb up the ranks. I had to admit, I was a bit surprised by how quickly I’d ended up here, too.
I swallowed and dared a glance up at her, but she wasn’t looking at me anymore.
“Why do I smell blood?” she asked Roman, blinking strangely at him.
He struggled to make eye contact with her. “We had a little problem at Miller’s apartment. There was a silver trap set up in the—”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” he stammered. “Jenna pushed me out of the way. She took a silver dart to the chest—”
Vanessa’s attention snapped back to me. Her gaze crawled over my black blazer. The dart had hardly left an indentation in the wool fibers. Nothing like the damage it had done to my blouse. I touched the spot over my breast, wondering if I should take the blazer off to show her.
“Silver?” she whispered, eyes going black again. “Your mutt is camping, and your human was here. How are you healed?”
If only I were a statue, my features hidden behind a mask of stone. I needed a convincing lie, but I needed it sooner than my wounded heart could manage. Panic tore through me, and my face said all Vanessa needed to know.
“I invoke the right to a blood duel,” she said, a growl carving up her voice. “Now.”
It was Roman who pushed me out of the line of fire this time. He put himself between Vanessa and me, shoving my back against the closed office door.
“I couldn’t let her die,” he shouted over Vanessa’s outraged scream as she reached for me. “I used the snakebite kit. She hardly needed a sip after that—and she saved my life last year. I owed it to her.”
“You owe her nothing!” Vanessa shrieked. “It’s my blood that keeps you alive. It’s my house that took you in when no one else would. You’re pledged to me!”
She slapped him across the face. Hard. It rocked his head to one side and split the side of his mouth open. A thin line of his blood shot through the air. It grazed my cheek, drawing a gasp from my parted lips. My fangs began to extend, budding automatically at the promise of violence.
Vanessa’s fury rerouted. Her liquid eyes blinked as I reached up to touch the blood on my face. A brave cocktail of emotions tangled up my insides. Cold rage and defiance bubbled over, and before I could rein it in, my finger glided across my cheek, collecting Roman’s blood.
“You don’t deserve him,” I said, and then dipped my finger into my mouth, sucking it clean.
Chapter Thirteen
“Go! Get out of here,” Roman cried. “Get out of the city—at least until I calm her down.”
“Calm me down?” Vanessa laughed in his face. She tried to dodge around him, but he caught her wrist and twisted until he was between us again.
“Go! Please, go,” he pleaded, regret seeping from his tired eyes.
It wasn’t for lack of strength that Vanessa let him restrain her. She didn’t want to hurt him, her potential scion. This was her exercising restraint, I realized. Which lit a fire under my ass.
I reached for the doorknob and paused to look back at Roman. “Come with me,” I said, not caring that Vanessa was right there, listening to our exchange.
“In your dreams, you little bitch!” She jerked her arm, trying to shake Roman’s grip. He grunted at her efforts. The sleeve of his jacket fell down his arm, revealing the bandage over his wrist.
“Go.” His voice broke, and I heard everything he wanted to say but couldn’t. It whispered through my blood. “Take your personal vehicle and turn off your cell phone, it can be traced.”
I didn’t wait to be told again. I slipped out of the office and slammed the door behind me.
Collins was in the lobby, shrugging into his down jacket. He’d found Miller in the security footage, and with eyes on her apartment, there wasn’t much else for him to do. He was supposed to have the night off anyway.
I grabbed his arm and dragged him through the front doors out to the parking lot, ignoring the curious glances from a pair of agents on their way inside.
“What are you doing?” Collins snapped once we’d reached the Bronco.
“Vanessa knows, and she’s out for blood.” I squeezed the sides of my head, wondering how much worse I’d made everything. What was wrong with me? Behaving like a…like a vampire.
Collins blew out a heavy breath and glanced back at the building. I shoved him toward his Toyota parked a space down from me.
“Grab Laz and get out of town for a day or two. Give me time to fix this.”
“You’re gonna fix this?” Collins’ bitter laugh stabbed at my heart. It was the sound of a friendship dying. He gave me a pitying look. “Jenna, there’s no fixing this. That’s why I put in my notice with Vanessa earlier and explained that I was leaving your harem.”
I gulped down the cold night air, unable to hide my surprise. “Why didn’t you talk to me first?”
“It doesn’t matter now.” He shook his head. “You should run. While you still have time. Go get Mandy and disappear.”
Mandy. I didn’t even know if she had cell service at her campsite—but I knew I couldn’t call her on my own phone. Thinking of it, I pulled the device out of my pocket and powered it off as I unlocked the driver’s door of the Bronco.
“Good luck,” Collins said, pushing it closed behind me.
I rolled down the window as I turned my key in the ignition. “I’m so sorry, Collins. I wish things had turned out differently.”
“Me, too.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and gave me a sad smile as I pulled out of the parking lot and made my escape down South 22nd Street.
I had no idea where I was going.
I had no idea if Vanessa would give chase, or if she’d send someone after me, and I was too terrified to go back to my house. I considered Spero Heights…but the thought of returning there without Roman... Tears seared the corners of my eyes.
Was this why sireless vamplings were so often put out of their misery? Did they all fall into a life of crime as effortlessly as I had?
I worried for Roman, but he’d begged me to leave. He’d begged me to leave and refused to come with me. That rejection in itself felt as if it were burning a hole through my chest.
I’d told Collins I would fix this, and I desperately wanted to. There had to be a way. If not for me, then for Roman, and Mandy, and Laura. I feared for them all. I had to make this right.
Maybe I could convince the duke to spare me—or at least Roman and the others—if I managed to find Ursula. Maybe he could sweet talk Vanessa down from the blood duel. Or maybe that was all wishful thinking, but it was better than the nothing I had otherwise.
Miller was my only lead. There were at least two units watching her place. Going there was a bad idea. I needed another option, and fast.
I went through the list of people who had been in contact with her and what we’d learned from them. Ben Macaulay thought she was a saint. He trusted her enough to loan her his vehicle and paid her to do odd jobs for him whenever she happened to drop by. I wouldn’t be getting anything more out of him, and I didn’t have time to spare to make a three-hour drive for a dead end.
Arnie Moreau had had a very different experience with Miller. Violent as it had been, I admired her for walking into a den of hungry wolves and having the balls to extract the information she wanted.
She was smart. Ruthless. I had a silver scar on my chest if I needed any more proof of that.
The only other person I knew of who’d interacted in some way with Miller was Lydia…at Bleeders. I hadn’t gotten much information out of
her during my last visit, but that was only because we’d run out of time.
I wasn’t welcome at Bleeders. I’d been warned not to return. Zane, the faux-fanged manager, would be waiting for me, and he would make sure I didn’t slip past him again. Going back there was a bad idea.
But I was fresh out of good ones.
* * * * *
I parked a couple of blocks away from the club. After going through so much of their security footage, I had a pretty good idea how easily they could spot my vehicle if they were watching for it. This was my last chance, so I couldn’t botch even the smallest detail.
I crawled into the back of the Bronco to dig around and see what I had to work with. Other than my service Glock and the Browning I kept in my ankle holster, there was my shotgun. I’d forgotten about it after shooting skeet with Collins—likely for the last time.
I pushed the heartache aside and tried to focus. My firearms would have to stay behind. Bleeders had metal detectors. Mandy’s backpack from our previous visit was stuffed up under the back seat. I dumped it out, deciding she’d have to forgive me, especially after all the times she’d pilfered through my bathroom drawers and closet.
Among the candy wrappers and crumpled trash mags, I found a cheap, dollar-store makeup palette and the fishnet top she’d worn last time. It smelled funky, but being left to dry in a backpack for a few days would do that.
I stripped out of my blazer, and my skin instantly rippled with goosebumps. I’d turned the engine off, and the Bronco was not good at retaining heat. I blew into my hands and rubbed them together before hurrying along with this terrible idea I’d committed myself to.
My bloody blouse was no good. I yanked it over my head and pulled on the fishnet top over my black bra. It was racy, but with Bleeders’ anything goes dress code, it would work. It had to.
Blood Dolls (Blood Vice 4) Page 11
