Red cut him off before he started. “Just drive.”
Pulling out of the parking space, the tires squealed. The headlamps caught the bleary trace of Lucas’s jacket as he sprinted away to his bike.
She didn’t speak until long after the car had sped out of Koreatown north on Western Avenue. Lights from pizza places and laundromats in squat shopping plazas dappled the parking lots. Red stared without seeing as the scenery changed to Santa Monica Boulevard.
Logic and emotion dueled like swordsmen in her mind. She knew she had to come up with the right story for the supreme to explain how they managed to nearly crack the case, then fuck it all up. Her brain just wanted to analyze the look in Lucas’s stormy gray eyes as he looked at Selene. Her body mostly just wanted the dried blood off. The blurted words came out rapidly, like a machine gun blast. “Do you have anything to get this crud off me?”
Raising an eyebrow at the outburst, Kristoff tapped the dashboard glovebox. “Pull me out a tissue too.”
Handing him a wet wipe, then grabbing her own, Red mopped at her neck. It hadn’t been the first time she’d had a John Wayne bath in a car after a hunt. The mirror told her that her forehead was already bruising from Bird’s headbutt. She looked better than expected after a night of jump shocks and pratfalls. “Cora is going to be pissed, and Lucas isn’t going to do us any favors.”
Scrubbing the already healed skin on his neck before moving to the dried blood in his hair, he drove one handed. “We’re hauling in Selene. Her ire won’t be on us.”
“No, Sal is the punching bag for the evening.” Red twisted in her seat to wipe under the bodice, grimacing. “Your little trick got blood got everywhere.”
Kristoff shrugged, smugly unrepentant. “I’m a neat biter, but a messy pour.”
Snorting, Red rummaged through his glovebox, finding the usual driver’s registration box along with several products perfect for scrubbing blood. The tidy vampire never left home without them. Crinkling her nose at the smell, she rubbed hand sanitizer on her neck and chest and yearned for a shower.
“Thank you for saving me.” A vulnerable cord threaded his tone.
“The orbs. Yeah.” Red pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “They were funny looking. Not very orb-y.”
Wonder in his tone, Kristoff lifted his brows. “You used magic for me.”
“I’ve never managed an orb before. I just reacted. Too bad Selene destroyed that ring.” Red rested her palm on her navel. The energy lurked somewhere within her, waiting for the next temptation to use it. She didn’t know if abstinence was the best policy anymore. Her formerly staked hand proved it. Even after weeks without using her magic, it came to her, primal and instinctual, ready to bend to her will. The ruby ring had helped her like training wheels on a bike. Her skills could only make a bumpy orb, but the magic was there. “I’m tired, but I did it.”
“I know you don’t want to use it, so I appreciate it even more.”
“You’ve saved my life before, so I guess it was my turn.”
“Why don’t you want to use magic?” Kristoff asked after a pause.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes—most I don’t remember. I’m trying to make less of them.” Red looked out the window. The truth climbed up her throat. “But maybe I’m just making them all over again.”
“I think you did a lot of things right tonight. For what it’s worth.”
Glancing away from his sympathetic gaze, Red put her hand on her heart to center herself. She couldn’t fall apart before seeing Cora. Sinking into work, despite the odds, felt better than the hurt in her heart. “Let me see if I can rustle up some more intel to sweeten the pot with Cora.”
“Say hi to Vic for me.” Kristoff studied her carefully out of the corner of his eye even though his words came out flippant.
Red pulled out her phone to dial.
“Vic. Talk,” Vic grunted. A TV dialed down in the background.
“How’s Arizona?”
“It’s the Land of Enchantment. No wait, that is New Mexico,” Vic joked. His next words pivoted to grave seriousness. “What’s the update? How’s Quinn?”
“Your vampire hero was last seen checking up on souled vamps after sleeping off a tranq dart from his last fight. It’s been a rough night for the home team.” Red filled him in on her first blood toast, finding Bird, Sancha’s demands for immunity, and how they had lost both. She tried to sound dispassionate and logical describing Lucas’s behavior. Vic had a lot of rules for hunters but near the top was keeping feelings off the job. “So, that’s my exciting night on the town. I’m hoping you discovered something.”
“I’ve been binging on Fringe with Lashawn. The show is just as good the third time around.”
“Great. I’ll let Cora know,” Red said dryly.
Vic snorted. “Just the facts then, ma’am.”
“How much have you gotten on the missing souled vampires?”
“Check your email in a bit,” Vic said. Rapid typing snuck onto the phoneline. “I’ll put the details in there, but here is the ‘too long didn’t read’ version.”
Red tapped the speaker phone on.
Vic’s voice boomed in the car. “I think you’re onto something with your social media influencer theory. The GI Jane that Alzbeta knocked out at Soul House was a hunter—Lola Bozeman. She vanquished that St. Louis succubus bespelling the men of the underworld for that reverse harem. Remember? Bit of trivia for you, Bozeman has fought in every American conflict since the Revolutionary War.” He paused. Typing resumed in the background. “Some of the missing souled vampires weren’t social notables though. A sound engineer—George Patil, last seen in Buffalo. Finally, I heard back from my contact in Cincinnati. Evelyn Weiss, the dominatrix you killed in Slab City, was an inventor specializing in mystic-technology.”
“So, the Dague has techies, generals, and inventors.” Red bit her lip.
“They aren’t random kidnappings. There is a strategy to their victims,” Vic speculated. “And that is my hot take.”
“If Evelyn Weiss built something for them, they’ll need energy to run it. Magic. They don’t have a soulmancer anymore. Souled Sal might be able to tell us if they have another mage.”
“Souled Sal?”
Red rubbed her forehead; she had forgotten to tell him about the Pump House. She explained quickly. Getting Sal and having a stake pulled out of her hand had been like ten crises ago. The dash clock reminded her it was nearly three in the morning. The blood she had drank had been better than a Frappuccino at keeping her awake. “We need to find Basil. He might know a soulmancer.” She finished awkwardly, remembering Kristoff was in the car.
“I tried. The bastard went off-grid,” Vic grumbled.
“We don’t have the numbers.”
“Drop some grenades in their hidey hole during the day.”
“Then we’ll just explain to the Prince of Portland that his mom is in little bits now.” Red rolled her eyes.
“I’m sure he’ll be cool with it.”
“Bit of trivia for you, Vic. He won’t,” Kristoff commented lightly, gaze on the road.
“Fine, fine,” Vic muttered.
“Cora had a lab look at the drug in Father Matthew’s blood, and they’re working on an antidote for the artificial coma he’s in. It not a common supernatural sedative, but they’re making progress. We think it’s the same tranq they hit Alzbeta with. They must be keeping the most powerful souled vampires sedated until they can remove the curse,” Red pointed out to try to find a silver lining. “Selene killed their soulmancer, so they can’t steal more souls. If we had a small team and got Souled Sal on our side, we could sneak in to give them the antidote.”
Vic blew a raspberry. “You’ll need backup.”
“We don’t have it,” Kristoff reminded him. “Cora doesn’t trust her people. My Prince is still sorting through his most loyal. Sancha mentioned something about a traitor. Higbee already suspected as much in the DVA. The Dague sympathizers are in the
Blood Alliance.”
Red had already thought about their problems enough. She wanted solutions. “What we really need is a map of the burrows so we can find out where they’re hiding.”
“With Chuck’s help, I might know a hunter crazy enough to do a flyover with some tech.” Vic’s finger snap echoed from the speaker phone. “I can’t promise that he won’t drop a grenade down while he’s at it.”
“Work your charm,” Red said as they reached Club Vltava on Sunset Strip. “I’m losing signal in a parking garage. Call you later.”
“Don’t let the crazies get you down.” Vic hung up.
Red didn’t tell him that it was already too late. She stepped out of the door as Lucas rode up on his motorcycle. Awkwardly hanging outside the car, she watched the two male vampires take each other’s measure.
A silent compromise seemingly made, Kristoff picked up Selene to carry her out of the back seat and toward the staircase leading to the employee entrance of Club Vltava. He paused at the foot of the steps. Looking between them, he raised his eyebrow, asking with a look if Red wanted him to throw out Lucas.
“Go. Cora’s waiting.” Red waved her hand. She didn’t want to be the one to tell the supreme how their night had ended up more like a Benny Hill skit than James Bond espionage. “Fill her in.”
Lucas stared at Kristoff, calculating, then turned to Red. “She’s not safe here. You know I’m right.”
“This is the safest place for her to be.” Red shook her head. Why didn’t he get it? Selene had killed a supreme master. There was no safe place for her. This was better than the alternative. Cora had wanted his sire locked below Moon Enterprises. “The Dague lost one of the famous original souled vampires. Don’t you think they’ll want her back?”
“Why are you doing this?” Lucas paced, running his hand through his hair. “You’re acting like the second coming of Joe Chang, running on Cora’s orders. I thought she already had a human cop to groom. Looking for a new club to join?”
It was a low blow. The implication about the Brotherhood was enough to make her want to yell at him. Chewing on the side of her cheek, Red forced herself not to spew the bile that she had been holding on to since he’d disappeared at Soul House. Club Vltava wasn’t the place where she wanted them to have their first screaming match. “I’m not doing this to dick with your ex, Lucas.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Oh, my sweet freaking god! I’ve been trying to be professional this whole time!” Red lifted her hands and turned away from him. “I should get points for that, considering you didn’t have to see the massacre that she left behind.” She hugged herself, unable to face him. Her voice lowered. “Why don’t you get that I’ve been covering for you this whole time?”
“And I appreciate it, love. I’m sorry about the wisecrack. That was shite.” Running his knuckles down her arm, he murmured, “I know that I’ve been a pillock. I just can’t quit when it comes to family. If Cora decides she’s done playing with the Dague, I’m not sure what she’ll do.”
“Cora acts tough, but you know she’s a softy for the downtrodden. She’ll think twice about playing bad cop with a…” Red didn’t finish the sentence. If Selene played the vulnerable vampire tortured by mental illness, then Cora might feel pity. Lucas obviously saw a wild child waif that needed to be saved. Red saw someone more capable, to say the least. Selene walked in worlds that few could imagine. Her mind saw into other times. She heard conversations in alternate dimensions. The visions were true, even if Selene seemed nuts. Red pushed away the thought to refocus on him. “I don’t understand the sire bond you have with Selene, but I get being freaked. Delilah and Quinn will be here, too. You have the whole family with you.”
“The supreme is in a corner. Runs a city that she can’t trust.”
“Whatever history you have with Cora, she put it behind her. Don’t test her, for both our sakes.” Red’s voice cracked and she looked down. For over 24 hours, she had wondered if he was dead—the not walking around being sexy kind. Slapping him or hugging him both seemed like cathartic choices.
“Oi, I’m thick enough to get on the supreme’s bad side, but you’re her new golden girl.”
“You don’t get it. If Cora falls and takes us down with her, you might walk out of here. I already know my sentence if the Blood Alliance hauls me in again.” Red shook her head and turned away. “Get through to Selene. Do what you have to do to talk sense into her, but don’t do anything impulsive.”
Lucas touched her arm. He vowed, “You won’t be turned.”
“That’s what I hope.” Red leaned toward him. Even mad, she couldn’t help but fall into his gaze. She straightened herself, gritting her teeth. “I’m working my ass off here on this case, so stop making it harder for me.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not proud that I left you holding the bag.”
“Then why did you?”
“She’s in my blood.” Lucas shook his head.
Red nodded, not because she understood. She never would. That vampiric bond was something she never wanted. “Then keep her safe.” Red turned away to walk to the staircase. “Be careful. Cora will forgive her, but I don’t know about you.”
“You don’t need to close yourself off.”
“I’m still on the job.” Gritting her jaw, Red climbed the stairs. Dawn was still hours away. The night shift was far from over. She couldn’t process this with him now.
“You’re mad at me.” Lucas followed her, hands in his pockets. “We need to talk about this.”
Sighing, she paused in the middle of the staircase and turned toward him. For a guy who couldn’t keep up a text conversation, he was really insisting on communicating feelings now. It would have been endearing if there weren’t vampire terrorists after him. “Now, really, of all times?”
He rocked on his heels on the step. “Yell, throw something, tell me I’m rubbish. I know it.” He gestured to himself, scowling self-deprecatingly. “Do something so we can sort it out.”
“I don’t know what I should even feel. I was scared for you when you left last night. I tried to trust that you knew what you were doing.” Red put her hands on her hips. “But you’re right. I got mad. It was when I had to dart Selene with your own gun. How many shots haven’t you taken?”
Brow tightening over guilty eyes, Lucas confessed, “It rattles her when she comes out of drugs. Makes her worse than before. I wanted to spare her that.”
“You love her.” Red tried to state the fact calmly. She turned her head farther away, not wanting even a glimpse of him in her peripheral vision. “She’s family.”
“You choking up, kitten?” Voice raw, Lucas sighed. He went up a step to walk around her. His gaze pleaded at her to look at him. “I can hear that shard in your throat. Pull it out. You’re not just mad because I’m being a shitty hunter, you’re mad because I’m being a shitty boyfriend. Tell me how you feel.”
Red curled her lip, shaking her head, ears hot. She been staked tonight, had broken ribs, and had gone undercover as a bleeder. His words somehow hurt the most. After months of being cagey, kissing her one day and brooding about being a monster the next, now he was her boyfriend? She spit her feelings out at him. “You slept with me two nights ago and then ghosted to run off half-cocked into danger. You want to know how I feel? Fuck you. That’s how I feel.”
The door opened to the stairwell. Kristoff popped his head out. Expression remote, the schadenfreude pointed at Lucas was as unmistakable as his charcoal and forest scent. His calculating gaze assessed the scene. “Red, the supreme wants you to talk to Sal—hunter to hunter.”
“Summon me too?” Fists clenching, Lucas glared at Kristoff.
“Cora didn’t say anything about you,” Kristoff said lightly, half stepping out of the door.
Red bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to breath deep. With one last look into Lucas’s storm gray eyes, she walked to the door, arms crossed. She lifted a finger at Kristoff as she brushed past. �
�Don’t even.”
Chapter Twenty
January 27th, Before Dawn, Club Vltava, Sunset Strip, Los Angeles, California
Tastefully decorated in warm beiges with copper sconces, the room was intended for meetings. Now it had a darker purpose. Plastic sheeting protected the wooden floor. The oval table and rolling whiteboard huddled in the corner. Two chairs in the center commanded the eye. Souled Sal sat, bound in silver, head hanging. Dried blood streaked the crimson and cream of his Sooners jersey. A rickety metal TV tray separated Sal from an empty chair.
Opening one eye at a time, he huffed when Red came into the room. “Is it true that gingers have no soul?”
“If the Dague’s soulmancer wasn’t dead, we could ask her.” Red sat across from him. The smell of old dead blood caught in her nose, and she sneezed. She tried not to cringe at the nearly black bruises on his face. Sal was one of the good guys. The Dague had stolen his soul and made him forget that.
Red put a small juice glass of blood in front of him on the standing tray. An elaborate orange crazy straw spiraled out of it to spell out ‘LA.’ It was ridiculous in juxtaposition with his roughed over form, but that’s all the bar had that would reach his lips.
Cheeks puckering in dismissal, Sal huffed. “I’m not drinking that.”
Red sighed inwardly. She had begged Cora to allow her to feed Sal. Vegan cuisine was freely given to anyone who came to Moon Enterprises. Blood? Not so much. Coldly logical, Cora didn’t want him regenerating enough to escape. Red nearly had to give a Powerpoint on the diminishing effectiveness of torture to convince Cora to give her a chance to get through to him. Nedda and Kristoff lingered in the gloom of the dimly room behind her. Neither had wanted her alone with the prisoner.
She knew Sal was ready to rip heads off without a soul, but somewhere her friend was still inside him. “You need to heal.”
“You put something in it.” Sal furrowed his brow.
“Why? We could just inject you.” Red held her breath as she reached over. The last supposedly chained vampire that she had run across tonight had headbutted her. The headache had only ended when she’d accepted more blood from Kristoff. Her tolerance must have grown because she only felt clear, not high. She positioned the straw to be easier for the bound vampire to reach.
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