Blood Leverage (Bloodstone Chronicles Book 1)

by J S Hazzard

  With no thought to maintaining that status, I automatically reverted to my favored defense mechanism. Sarcasm. “Nope, sorry. I’d remember if we’d been introduced—you make a unique first impression.”

  The vampire blinked at my impertinent denial. Then he raised his wrist to his mouth and licked it clean, giving a small shudder of pleasure as he did. (Okay, ick!)

  “I can promise I most certainly know you.” He sounded almost playful, an abrupt change from the fang baring chokehold of a few moments ago. I wavered between anxiety and confusion as he continued in an unrecognizable accent.

  “Furthermore, unless I’m mistaken—and I am never mistaken in such matters—you’ve had some adventures recently. You naughty, naughty, naughty girl.”

  He left no room to misinterpret the way he’d said ‘naughty’, even if he hadn’t tapped his fingertip to my nose for emphasis each time he said it. It made me long for Eggplant, who probably would’ve ripped my throat open and called it a day. But no, instead of dying with dignity, I was stuck with a condescending vampire pervert. Great.

  Granted, I was still alive and after a few more annoyed moments over his ‘naughty’ comment, I wondered what the holdup was. He was studying me like there’d be a quiz later—inexplicable behavior unless he truly believed he knew me.

  And if a case of mistaken identity could keep me alive…

  I hid my trembling hands in my pockets and attempted a regretful expression. “I’m sorry if I’ve forgotten you. Maybe you could refresh my memory as to where we met?” Whatever he said, I’d agree and bluff my way through the best I could.

  The vampire assumed a pained expression, like I’d contrived this scenario wholly to inconvenience him. “I didn’t say we’d met, I said I knew you.” He reached down and swiped a finger through the blood on my cheek, holding it in front of my nose. I half thought he expected me to lick his finger until I stopped staring at his hand—it’s surprisingly hard to ignore your own blood on someone’s fingers—and studied his face.

  I recognized a man who believed he was making sense when I saw one. He didn’t want me to taste my blood—he was offering it as an explanation. And that meant…

  “Good lord, wouldn’t it have been easier to identify yourself as my patron?” Talk about cryptic explanations! Still, I wanted to laugh in giddy relief. My odds of staying alive had dramatically increased. If any vampire had a reason to spare my life it was this one.

  Oddly enough, my embarrassment almost eclipsed the relief I felt at this turn of events. I couldn’t believe this creature could detect a difference in my blood after one night fooling around with Nicky. Apparently Nicky hadn’t exaggerated their sensitivity.

  Holy shit! Nicky!

  Dismissing my patron’s acknowledgment of my recent sexual exploration, I sprang up, shoving the vampire aside and sprinting into the living room. I’d never flatter myself to think I could outrun a vampire, but my actions took him by surprise.

  I skidded to a stop behind the sofa and felt my breath seize in my chest. A pool of blood spread a few yards from the front entrance, along with a single bloody footprint from Eggplant’s pointy-toed, high-heeled boots.

  I’d barely stepped toward the door when my patron’s arm locked around my waist and thrust me behind him. He looked at the bloody floor and then back at me, repeating both actions before stating the obvious.

  “Your injuries are insignificant. Who else was here?” He’d gone rigid again.

  Under other circumstances I might have protested his use of ‘insignificant,’ but I couldn’t stop staring at the blood. I had to swallow before I could speak. “Dominic Carriero, Luigi Carriero’s son and partner. He brought me here. The Eggplant vampire, she had him in her arms and, and—”

  He was gone the instant I realized he was moving.

  Stupefied, I stood in the middle of the room for a minute or two until he reappeared as though he’d never left. I was too drained to do more than stare.

  “Whoever she was, she had a motor bike outside. After you screamed, I entered through the secured door behind us.” He pointed. “I saw the sealed bedroom and went directly there. The, ah… eggplant… left with young Mr. Carriero via the front door. The scent of the bike ends at the nearest highway, and I can only speculate she stashed it inside a larger vehicle and drove away.”

  My brain spluttered back to life. “What do we do now? Can you track the new vehicle?”

  He shook his head. “Unfortunately, there were multiple scents of recent exhaust present, and without scenting her vehicle I have no way to determine a match. The closer the highway gets to Niagara Falls, the more scents there will be and with a head start she could have taken any number of exits by now.”

  Without thought, I whirled toward the front door again, only this time my patron was prepared. I hadn’t completed a full stride before he enfolded me in his arms. He did nothing to harm me, but the only parts of me capable of motion were my hands and my legs below the knees. Realizing the futility, I didn’t waste time struggling.

  As if sensing my surrender, the vampire relaxed his hold. “If I release you, do you promise not to run outside?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “I do and I apologize. I don’t know what happened. My feet temporarily detached from my brain.”

  He turned me to face him, the distrust easily read on his face. “Be that as it may…” He backed slowly out the front door and disappeared from view for a moment. I heard a lengthy series of beeps before he returned.

  “In case your feet go rogue again, I have disabled the front door with its master code. To conserve your time and energy, you should know that the keypad digits range from zero to nine and the code is fifteen digits long. Your chance of guessing correctly is basically non-existent.”

  Though I didn’t blame him for taking precautions, his behavior had begun to annoy me. “The odds are one in approximately one quadrillion, assuming your keypad has no restrictions on the repetitions of any particular digit. I won’t waste my time playing lottery with your door. There are more important things to do.”

  His disbelieving expression was one I usually enjoyed seeing, and at any other time I might’ve reveled in it. At the moment, I was more concerned about a plan of action for Nicky, and I rudely pressed on.

  “We ought to be looking for Nicky, not locked in here! We have no proof of the extent of his injuries, and for all we know the blood on the carpet isn’t even his!”

  My outburst snapped my patron out of his daze and he grimly knelt and touched the tip of a finger to the blood before lifting it to his lips. Despite an involuntary shudder, his expression turned to sorrow and my rising fury deflated. He’d tasted the blood to identify it as Nicky’s.

  With one small hope dashed, I moved on to the next. “How much blood can a human lose and still survive?”

  He appeared to struggle with my question before answering. “The human body can lose significant blood and recover, but in this instance it’s a question of timing. If I had to guess, I’d say I broke down the bedroom door within, what, fifteen seconds of your scream? Twenty at most?”

  I didn’t recall screaming. “I’m sure you’ll understand why I wasn’t watching the clock. It’s better to rely on your assessment than mine.”

  The vampire looked shocked and I mentally kicked myself. Being rude was a self-indulgence I couldn’t afford. I needed to keep him talking, not piss him off.

  “I’m sorry,” I hastily threw out, “but how does the timing affect Dominic’s chances of survival?”

  He inclined his head in acknowledgment of my question as his mouth twitched with either irritation or humor at my apology. “For your safety, Luigi never told me your name. What shall I call you?”

  I could have told him anything, but the thought of lying never crossed my mind. “My name is Aurora, but most people call me Rory.” It could only help to have him see me as an individual instead of a snack, right?

  Right?

  “Miss Aurora, my reason for
inquiring as to the time of my arrival was to better ascertain the rate of blood loss. I would guess you screamed the moment of your friend’s attack—perhaps immediately afterward?”

  “Close enough.” Nicky had been uninjured when I entered the living room—his white shirt would have shown blood—and I definitely hadn’t screamed until after Eggplant had dropped him. I’d been babbling about pie before then, if memory served.

  Logically, Eggplant must have turned back to Nicky when I’d turned to run.

  My patron expressed dismay at my confirmation. “Since the, ah, Eggplant left before my arrival it means the amount of blood on the floor left his body in under a minute.”

  I felt my own blood flee my head. Remaining upright was out of the question and I sat. Nicky’s blood crept dangerously close to my bare toes, but it wasn’t important. I understood what the vampire hadn’t said. He was implying that to have bled so much, so quickly…

  “You’re suggesting he severed an artery.” I lowered my head between my knees.

  If my patron was correct, Nicky was already dead. He would have bled out and even if Eggplant had left him there would have been nothing to do but watch it happen.

  “It’s possible. Most likely the carotid artery in his neck. If that was the case, I can tell you he wouldn’t have suffered. After the initial strike he would have felt nothing.” His voice was gentle, which I appreciated, but I felt too shaken to acknowledge him.

  I lost track of time as I attempted to process everything. However long I sat, the vampire remained motionless until I extended my hand for assistance.

  It was a toss-up as to who was more surprised, but he did reach down to help me. He made an effort to be gentle, but I all but flew off the floor anyway. My feet left the ground and a strangled giggle escaped.

  “Thanks. I’m guessing humans don’t often ask for your help.”

  He looked even more baffled than before and my broken brain found that hilarious. I began laughing harder and harder, realizing I’d reached the point of inappropriate, hysterical laughter—the kind that occurs when you’re too overwrought for anything else even when nothing is funny.

  Perhaps particularly when nothing is funny.

  My hysteria accomplished what my earlier efforts hadn’t come close to—the vampire lifted his hands in a defensive gesture and backed away. He clearly thought I’d lost my mind and it obviously unnerved him.

  Of course, that made me laugh even harder because, well, for one thing I couldn’t stop, but also because the idea of my patron backing away in fear was legitimately hilarious. What could I do, crazy him to death?

  Shrieking with laughter, I collapsed onto the sofa while the vampire stared incredulously. Finally he shook off his disbelief and rushed to the kitchen.

  He returned in seconds, most of which he’d clearly used to fill the glass of water he set on the low table in front of the sofa. Then he darted a few steps back to observe from a safe distance.

  After another minute my laughter subsided to sporadic giggles, punctuated by the odd hiccup or two. Doing my damnedest to look normal, I straightened from my slump and calmly sipped the water as if this sort of thing happened every day.

  The vampire looked relieved and after another minute he determined it safe to sit, though he sat as far away on the sofa as possible.

  I wasn’t sure if that was for his comfort or mine. Possibly both?

  “Are you finished now?” His wary tone nearly set me off again, but I caught myself.

  I hadn’t anticipated my hysteria, but my bizarre behavior had disarmed the vampire in a way nothing else could have done. He no longer appeared threatening, but simply curious. Maybe even the tiniest bit concerned.

  “My apologies. Sometimes humans laugh in times of stress. I promise I haven’t lost my mind.”

  “I’m relieved to hear that. Your loss of sanity would hamper an already unfortunate situation.”

  His matter-of-fact statement returned me to reality with a thud. Nicky was missing and injured, possibly dead, and I was trapped here. I was far from home and even if I found the truck—assuming I could drive the truck—I had no idea where Nicky was and didn’t know how to get home. Or anywhere else for that matter.

  And that assumed my patron would allow me to leave in the first place.

  A new set of worries filled my head. What if my patron decided to keep me and drink from the source? What was that old saying—something about not buying a cow if you can get free milk anyway?

  Not a very reassuring thought for a cow.

  CHAPTER NINE

  DESPITE my earlier determination to charge out and look for Nicky, the recognition of my own precarious position left me at a loss regarding what to do. When my patron indicated we should leave the room, I didn’t argue. Not only did I have no desire to stare at the puddle Nicky had left behind, I had no better ideas.

  We exited through the previously forbidden doorway—which had remained open—only to pass through multiple empty rooms, each with multiple doorways. At each selected doorway, my patron would place a finger against the box to unlatch the door. I trotted along obediently, but as we entered the fifth room I stopped short. He’d led me to a bedroom.

  The room was elaborately decorated in rich green with touches of gold and I recognized the same attention to detail I’d admired in the living room. There were breathtaking paintings with golden gilt frames, oddly enclosed in glass.

  The largest bed I’d ever seen stood against one wall, carved on every inch of wood with rich green velvet curtains caught back to the bedposts with golden cords. I’d never seen anything like it and when my patron made a permissive gesture, I moved in closer.

  He had no problem with my scrutiny and when I raised a tentative hand to the carvings he didn’t object. For a moment he appeared to take pleasure in my admiration. Then he began tearing the bed apart, tossing pillows to the floor.

  “What on earth?” Even though the pillow projectiles were flying in the opposite direction, I stepped back. As the drawer in the nightstand and the chairs in front of the fireplace underwent a similar overhaul, I realized my patron was searching for something and began cleaning up in his wake.

  After replacing the bedding, I straightened the chair cushions by the fireplace while my new acquaintance moved on to a bookcase. At first glance the fireplace blended in with the walls, but on closer inspection it had been covered with a mosaic of tiny green tiles that appeared seamless from a distance. My experience with gemstones was limited, but they resembled a dark jade. Then the fireplace flared to life and I jumped.

  My patron laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. It’s only technology.” He proceeded to point out the switch that caused the gas fire to light on command. As he gestured, I noticed an object in his hand.

  “Did you find what you were looking for? Hey wait, is that a cell phone? Does it work?” I moved in for a better look. Nicky and his father had crates of old cell phones, but cell coverage outside the cities was extremely limited and the companies providing it were vampire controlled.

  He neatly sidestepped my advance. “It does work, and there’s someone I’m hoping to speak with about Dominic. If you’ll sit and wait by the fire, I’ll be back shortly.”

  My butt hit the chair before he finished speaking, and he left through the doorway we’d entered. Five agonizing minutes later he returned and sat in the other chair. Oblivious to my apprehension he filled a tiny crystal wineglass with a dark red liquid. I doubted it was wine.

  I didn’t know whether he’d intended to put me at ease or make me uncomfortable, but either way it was distracting to watch someone drink blood—presumably my own. My patience lasted an additional thirty seconds out of courtesy. “Well what happened?”

  My words caught my patron mid-sip and he grimaced as he appeared to swallow wrong. “My apologies, Miss Aurora. I hadn’t eaten yet tonight and being in your presence has increased my appetite.”

  Oh great.

  “Don’t let me sto
p you, but I’d very much like to know what’s happening.”

  He drained the glass and dabbed at his lips with a linen square. “I called someone to help us with our situation here.” He raised a cautioning hand before I could rise to my feet and I reluctantly sat back down.

  “He’s not in the area presently, but he’ll be here tomorrow night. He has some ideas on where to start.”

  “Tomorrow?” Discouraged, I slumped into the chair. “What are we supposed to do in the meantime, wait here?”

  The vampire frowned, an expression that looked somehow wrong until I realized his face, despite the muscles moving beneath it, showed none of the lines or wrinkles one normally associates with frowning. “Miss Aurora, our options are limited here. For your own safety you cannot leave this house. Nor can I leave you here alone even if I felt so inclined, which I freely admit I do not.”

  Despite my frustration, I saw the logic in both statements. I was nothing but deadweight in this situation, a hindrance that prevented my patron from making a real effort on Nicky’s behalf. “If it makes a difference, I’m willing to take the risk if there’s anything you can do to help Nicky now. I understand why you don’t trust me, but surely you could command me to stay in one place. You could even lock me in an empty room where I could do no damage.”

  With another small frown, the vampire shook his head. “I also have to consider what’s best for young Dominic.”

  Agitated, I rose from my chair and began to pace. “How is it in his best interest to do nothing?”

  Perhaps unwilling to look up at me, my patron stood as well. “Miss Aurora, no matter what his injuries, Nicky’s sole chance of survival depends on Eggplant’s willingness to keep him alive. There’s a possibility Nicky might survive if a vampire with sufficient strength commanded him to heal.”