Blood Cross (Jane Yellowrock 02)

"Such a sharing was . . . not unpleasant. Shall we see if more such can be shared?"

 

I didn't know how to respond to that, and she took my silence as indication to go on. "I was considered a woman of great value, and so was captured alive, for my magic. I was given to the son of the conquering chief as a minor wife. And when he died at the next full moon"--her lips moved slowly into a smile, satisfied and unexpected--"I was beaten and sold to a traveling slave merchant who took me to Egypt. There I was sold again, to a Roman, and taken to a new land. The land of the Hebrew."

 

Something about the way she said "land of the Hebrew" made me ask, "When? When were you in the land of the Hebrew?"

 

Sharp bewilderment creased her forehead. "I do not know why I speak to you of this. I have done so only seldom."

 

She had already forgotten the shared memory. That lapse was a danger sign of a vamp going old-rogue wacky. When I didn't reply, she said, "My master was a centurion, part of a legion of soldiers in charge of the destruction of Yerushalayim. Did you know him?"

 

Yerushalayim, also known as Jerusalem . . . The city was destroyed by the Roman army in AD 70 or so. Did I know him? No, and he's been dead two thousand years. I didn't say it. The expression in her eyes made sense now. Rogue. She wasn't far from going rogue. And she'd had my throat in her fangs. . . . I licked my lips, which were suddenly dry and cracked, and a question fell from them. "Who turned you?"

 

A little click sounded as her fangs snapped down. Her smile was predatory, as cold and barren as the energies she had shared when she healed me. Slowly, her eyes bled black and her sclera bled scarlet as she vamped out, but the transition was slow, not the eyeblink speed of the others. She seemed in control even as she lost it. Old . . . she was old.

 

"I was among the first hundred who followed the Sons of Darkness, turned by one who was among the first ten of the Cursed."

 

I remembered the term Sons of Darkness mentioned at the party, and that one of them had been contacted by Rafael. I'd also seen the term on a scrap of paper in room 666. She swiveled in the seat, a motion as supple and sinuous as a snake, and put the Porsche into drive. "You are not human. You have been honored to receive my essence and live." Without another word, her fangs retracted with a soft click, and she pulled out of the alley, around the convenience store, into the street. Moments later she slowed in front of my house and said, "You may leave me."

 

I unbuckled, opened the door, and stepped from the car, not ticked off that I'd been dismissed, as I usually was when one of them acted all high-handed. I was satisfied to get away alive. She reached over, pulled the door shut, and the tires ground away from the curb, the car a low throb in the night.

 

We still didn't have power and so when I was inside, I lit a single candle, carrying it with me. Filthy, I stripped, tossed the dress into the sink, added soap and water, just in case the dress could be salvaged, and showered off fast. I was almost getting used to the sight of blood rinsing off me and down the drain. Naked, damp hair unbraided and knotted in a ponytail hanging down my back, I dialed Derek Lee. When he answered, I said, "I'm hunting rogue. Want to come?"

 

His answer was a succinct "Hell yeah."

 

"Meet you at your place," I said, and closed the cell.

 

When Bitsa and I motored up to his housing unit, Derek and three of his guys were waiting. From the look of them, they were all military or ex-military. Cold, expressionless, ready. They were in jungle camo, boots, and bore a single pair of night-vision goggles. I could smell the steel and gun oil from the street. I didn't bother to say hi, I just killed the engine, slung a leg over the bike, and kicked the stand down.

 

"You leaving that nice piece a' art here?" one of Derek's guys said.

 

"Witchy locks. Anyone who touches it gets a shock."

 

"What we doing?" Derek asked, moving into the street.

 

He didn't introduce his crew; I guessed he didn't intend me to know their names. Okay by me. Trust had to be earned; it worked both ways. And I was starting out with a lie but there was no help for it. So much for trust. "I want to see if I can track the rogues' hunting ground, find out if there are any more young ones feeding in the area." I held up a shard of sharp stone I'd grabbed from the rock garden. "This is spelled. I feel a sort of vibration in the presence of vamps. I can track them with this." Total lie but it was all I had. I was gonna sniff them out, but I couldn't say that.

 

"You leaving it with us when you're done?" Derek asked.

 

"Sure. It'll be nothing but a piece of rock, but you can have it."

 

"Onetime spell. Damn witches got no heart," guy number one said.