“We came to help.” She motioned in the direction of her companions. Tory’s eyes met Naomi’s.
“This is a surprise.”
“Back atcha, Tory. We can’t seem to stop running into each other. I wonder what that means?” Naomi pondered out loud.
“Tory?” Riah’s question made them all look her way.
Tory shrugged. “You go by Riah, I go by Tory. Gotta keep up with the times or…well you know what I mean, auntie.”
Naomi looked from one to the other, her gaze appraising. “You’re related?”
Tory shrugged. “Sort of. My grandmother and Catherine…I mean Riah, were sisters. She’s my great-aunt.” From the time she’d learned of Riah’s existence, she’d found it amusing that while Riah was technically old enough to be her grandmother, the two of them looked to be barely a couple years different age-wise.
Riah held up a hand. “Could we talk about this somewhere else? This is a little too public for my tastes, if you know what I mean. It’s bad enough for Ivy and me to be here, but two former hunters could be a problem too. Better for us all to fly under the radar.”
Two former hunters, what exactly did that mean? Then it hit her and she stared at Naomi. Now she understood what it was about the preacher that had seemed just a touch off. Naomi looked away first without saying a word. Now wasn’t the time to get into it.
Tory scanned the terminal and had to agree that Riah had a point. Even at this time of night, there were way too many people. She dug into her pocket for a scrap of paper and a pen. Quickly, she jotted down her cell number and handed the paper to Riah. “Call me.”
Riah took the offered number and nodded. “As soon as we get to where we’re staying, I’ll be in touch.”
Tory watched the group leave and still couldn’t believe it was real. She’d been alone for so long, how could this be possible? While it was certainly true her family’s blood lived on in Great Britain, this was different. Had they not each been turned, they might have known each other. As her grandmother’s sister, Catherine would have been an important member of the family, someone to look up to.
Except Catherine’s life, like Tory’s, hadn’t been that simple. Far from it. Their shared heritage was the very thing that had made both of them outcasts, both during their mortal existence and as vampires. When human, neither had ever been truly safe. Instead, both of them began life amidst complicated webs of lies. It was the lies probably more than the blood that had drawn them together when they discovered each other. In a strange sort of way it was fitting they both ended up living in darkness.
As surprised as she was about Riah, she was stunned about the discovery of what was beneath Naomi’s façade of righteousness. A hunter? It figured. Her life was so screwed up, why not fall for a hunter? Fate was so messed up.
“Shall we head out as well?” Sunny asked.
She’d all but forgotten about Sunny and Viola. Neither had said a word during the exchange with Riah, though they’d watched it with undisguised interest. Not that she blamed them. It wasn’t often that people encountered two descendants from the famous Tudor line, and even fewer knew that Lady Jane Grey gave birth to a daughter before she was beheaded. No, she didn’t blame Sunny or Viola for their open-mouthed interest. She and her aunt were definitely not garden-variety vampires.
Tory apologized. “God, I’m so sorry. That was incredibly rude of me. I was just so shocked to see Catherine, I mean, Riah, after so many years. Not every day you run into the aunt you believed dead for the last couple hundred years.”
“Ah, honey, happens to us all.” Viola laughed and put an arm around her shoulders. “You’ll have to fill us in,”
Together they walked outside the terminal and waited in line for a taxi. This time of night the wait was short and within a couple of minutes, the three of them piled into a yellow cab. Tory gave the driver directions and they were on their way, the lights of Ronald Reagan National Airport growing dim behind them. The night was clear, the sky filled with stars and the moon bright.
They headed to Tory’s house on Second Street, directly behind the Supreme Court. The street with its close-together historical homes was beautiful even in the darkness, and soon, the cab dropped them at Tory’s tiny front yard. The minute she stepped through the gate, she felt better. She was smiling as she opened the door for Sunny and Viola, following them inside.
Leaving the bags in the entryway, they all settled in the front room. Viola was planning to stay with Sunny, so it made sense to get right to it. Viola already had a feel for the lay of the land; might as well have her go for the jugular. No better place for that than home sweet home.
The house in the middle of the block was large for a Capitol Hill home and had undergone a complete historic restoration a few years before Tory purchased it. The hardwood floors gleamed and the furniture was comfortable and stylish at the same time. Outside, the small front yard was simply landscaped and enclosed by a sturdy wrought-iron fence.
Though she preferred to think of herself as not materialistic, she’d made some wonderful friends through the years and was lucky enough to have their gifts scattered throughout the house. They made it feel like a home and not just a stopping place in a long life. She ran her hand over the smooth marble sculpture that her dear friend Camille Claudel had given her just before Tory left France for the United States. It was a beautiful yet haunting piece done right before Camille’s three decades of commitment. She and Camille had been great friends, and her heart was still heavy over the sad turn her life had taken.
Over the fireplace was an oval painting Angelica Kauffman had created during the years Tory lived in Rome. The depiction of a woman reclining against a tree, her dress slipping off one shoulder to reveal her smooth, white breast, had spoken to Tory the moment she’d laid eyes on it. Talking Angelica into selling the painting had taken a great deal of heartfelt pleading. In the end, Angelica relented and Tory prevailed. The painting had been with her for over two centuries.
When the time came to leave here, she’d be sad. During her lengthy lifetime she’d lived many places and few ever felt like a real home. This house did. This city did, and she’d leave with both a heavy heart and much regret. She wished it could be different and knew it wouldn’t be. Leaving was inevitable no matter how much it would hurt.
“Can I get you anything?” She snapped on the gas fireplace and the room brightened with a warm glow. That was better.
“Wine would be fabulous if you’ve got it,” Sunny said with a smile.
“Make it two.” Viola grinned, her face lighting up. She kicked off her shoes and curled her toes into the thick rug. “Hmm, feels good.”
In the kitchen, Tory opened a bottle of wine and set it on the counter to breathe. From an under-counter refrigerator faced to look like just another cabinet, she pulled a package of blood. She popped it into the microwave for thirty seconds, just enough to take the chill off.
By the time she finished the packet of blood, the wine was ready to be poured. She didn’t usually drink alcohol, but tonight was anything but usual. She filled three glasses, set them on a tray, and carried it into the living room.
“Well, ladies, shall we get this party going?”
Viola took a sip and nodded. “Yum,” she drawled, then looked into Tory’s eyes. “Let’s do this. I’ve never read a vampire before, and I’m anxious to find out what’s inside that pretty little immortal head of yours.”
That made one of them. If Viola could reach something that might help unravel the mystery of the New Testament, great. The rest of the not-so-helpful stuff inside her head should really stay there. No one needed to know. She didn’t need to remember.
*
Word on the street said Whispers was the place to be for the bright, ambitious, and beautiful LGBTQs in the District. The way he figured it, she’d put herself firmly in the middle of bright and beautiful, so hanging out there was bound to pay off. It was also a win-win for him. He could send her another pointed
message and get a little for himself all at the same time. Fun, fun, fun.
Dupont Circle was alive as he strolled through the streets on his way to Whispers. Such a lovely mix of people, sights, and smells. It wasn’t quite as enticing as the melody of life found near his New Orleans home, but it wasn’t bad. Here there were far more suits and overpriced haircuts. At home, it was all about the culture of the bayou and the sheer joy of living. Here, it was about living the see-and-be-seen life of pedigrees and knowing the right people. The game was okay to play for a little while, but when it came right down to it, he preferred the culture of his own home.
Then again, the package didn’t matter so much. It was the contents that were important. Blood was blood regardless of what it came in. As for what was to be found beneath the suits? Well, it was pretty much the same for a good fuck. Some of the best ones came in the most surprising packages. A conservative suit and tie might scream proper, but sometimes the freaks hid just beneath the expensive tailoring. He hoped he’d have the luck to find some of those freaks tonight. He was up for some nasty fun.
Despite the political incorrectness, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and, lighting it, took a long drag. The sweet smoke filled his lungs. The surgeon general’s warning didn’t give him as much as a second thought. He loved the taste of tobacco. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to die…again.
By the time he dropped the butt to the sidewalk and put out the last glowing ember with the toe of his boot, he was wound up and ready to go. Time to party.
An interesting parade of patrons had entered Whispers as he’d leaned against the building smoking. So far, two held the top spot on his list. The woman was a winner, with red hair cut short to frame her pretty face. Tall enough to look him in the eye, she had broad shoulders and wide hips that appealed to him. While he found beautiful women alluring, he often found himself far more attracted to those women with a hint of masculinity. Something about the blend of butch and babe made his dick hard. That, and the challenge of convincing her to come with him when she obviously had her sights set on the fairer sex. He rubbed his hands together and grinned.
The other winner was a black-haired hard body. In designer jeans and a black sweater that didn’t hide his muscles, the guy was on a very obvious troll. Yeah, that completely worked in the big scheme of things, especially considering the hard-on straining at his jeans and impossible to miss. Just what he needed to catch the attention of tall and hot. It was fantastic when a plan came together.
Music played loud enough to be interesting but not enough that it forced patrons to scream to be heard. Dirty martini in hand, he surveyed the room. Lots of potential in tonight’s crowd, and before long he’d settled on his soon-to-be companions. His initial picks were still perfect for his evening plans. Getting to both of them would require some finesse, his particular strong point. Smooth was his middle name, and he could work it no matter which side he was swinging from. The challenge was far from daunting. In fact, quite the opposite. It energized him.
He put his empty glass down, grabbed a couple of full drinks from the bartender, and started in the direction of handsome and muscled. In an hour or so, he’d be back for his redhead butch.
*
“Well, that was pretty fucking wild,” Riah said once they were all in the car.
“You two are family?” Seriously, what were the odds of that? One in a million? A billion?
“A couple of generations removed but yes,” Riah said. “I’m as amazed as you are. I thought she’d been destroyed a long time ago. I guess she thought the same about me. We are so busy protecting ourselves, we lose others who are important. It’s the sad reality of the vampire existence.”
“Damn it,” Naomi spit out from between clenched teeth.
Colin put a hand on her arm. “It’s not a bad thing. These are good people, I promise.”
Naomi shook her head at the same time she put the car in park. She’d pulled into her driveway behind another car not normally parked there. “I’m sorry. That had nothing to do with Riah or Tory. That—” she pointed to other car, “is the problem. My brother is here again.”
“Should we stay here?” Riah asked from the backseat.
“No, it’s not that. He doesn’t have a huge problem with vamps as a general rule. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not pals with vampires…”
“But?” Colin prompted her.
“But right now is a bad time. He’s a detective in the District and these murders have him on a very precarious edge. All vampires are suspect in his mind, as well as shape-shifters or weres of any ilk. He sees protecting humans as his number-one priority.”
Riah put her hand on Naomi’s shoulder. “Honestly, it’s not a problem to make ourselves scarce for a while. We don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, particularly with your family.”
Naomi shook her head. “I appreciate it, but really, Nathan meeting you isn’t what has me so twitchy. It’s the mere fact that he’s here. Something’s got to be wrong again. Let’s just say casual visits for a brotherly hello are few and far between, despite the fact we’re twins. Lately he’s here about every day.” She took a big breath and then let it out slowly. “All right, ladies and gent, let’s get this over with. Putting off the bad news isn’t going to make it any better.”
When she swung the front door open, Nathan was waiting in her living room, a scotch in one hand, his cell phone in the other. From the sour expression on his normally handsome face, things were not going well. And why would she expect anything different?
She waved her guests in and walked right by Nathan and into the kitchen. A scotch had a really nice sound to it. Colin and Adriana joined her, although Riah and Ivy declined. Nathan kept talking in a voice too low to be able to make anything out. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know anyway. Of course, the way things shook out lately, he’d tell her whether she wanted him to or not.
After he ended the call, Nathan was silent as he looked from face to face, his gaze lingering on Riah and Ivy a little longer than anyone else. Not much was lost on Detective Rand. She liked that about her brother. She also hated that about her brother.
“Yeah,” she said before he could open his mouth. “They’re vampires.”
“Why?” The single word was brittle. He sounded as close to the edge as she felt. Not good.
She shrugged as if none of this was a big deal. “It was time to call in the professionals.”
He put one hand on the gun at his belt. “I’m a professional.”
Nathan was in full police mode. She knew the tone of voice and the stance. It screamed law enforcement without ever saying a word. It might work on lots of other people, but she wasn’t intimidated.
“Yeah, but you’re not the kind of professional this city needs at the moment.” He had to know it too. The training he’d had at the police academy and during his classes at Quantico didn’t mean a damn thing when it came to the current problems. This was outside his area of expertise and right smack in the middle of hers, Colin’s, and the others’. Nathan knew about her years as a hunter but he didn’t really know.
He removed his hand from the gun and ran it through his shaggy hair. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Meme,” he said quietly.
She held his gaze. Did he even remember what she did before the cathedral? If so, he’d understand that she had a far better idea than he did what the hell was going on. “Been there, done that, bro.”
He let out a harsh laugh and shrugged. “Yeah, you have.” His shoulders seemed to relax a little and he slid his gaze toward her guests. “So introduce me to the vampires et al.”
She’d braced for a fight. Nathan was always up to spar with her, especially when he decided he was on the side of good and righteous, and she was in league with evil. His retreat was as surprising as it was appreciated. An ugly sibling fight wasn’t the show she wanted to put on for her guests. At this moment, she loved her brother, a lot.
When she comple
ted introductions all around, Naomi turned back to Nathan. “You haven’t told me why you’re here.”
“Two fresh kills.”
Chapter Nine
By the time Sunny and Viola got into a taxi and drove away, Tory was shaking. What Viola had told her seemed impossible, yet at the same time, she believed it completely. After all the years she’d been around, little surprised her. Tonight, she’d been surprised.
Holding the New Testament in her trembling hands, she pulled it close to her chest and, for the first time in decades, allowed the tears to fall. She remembered that long-ago night as if it had happened just yesterday. Year after year, the horror of it haunted her sleep and guilt crushed her heart. If not for her, Roland would have lived a long and important life. He’d had so much left to give. His life had been taken violently only because he’d embraced her as if she’d been his own daughter…as if she’d still been human. The important work he had been doing came to an abrupt end.
His death nearly destroyed her too. If not for a few trusted friends, both human and preternatural, she’d have stopped running then and there and let the hunters catch her at last, put a stake through her heart and a sword to her throat. It wasn’t until word came that Pierre’s luck had run out and he’d lost the battle with a particularly vicious werewolf that she gathered her strength and continued.
Tonight, the old feeling of despair washed over her like a tidal wave. For years, she’d believed Pierre was gone, reduced to ash and scattered in the autumn wind. She’d believed wrong. Somehow it seemed he’d survived the werewolf attack. She didn’t know how. She didn’t know why.
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