Blood Secrets

eighteen



KIRK CLOSELY WATCHED THE THREE PARAMEDICS CARRYING equipment and a bright orange stretcher board into the living room for signs of trickery. He kept a firm grip on Emily’s arm and the revolver pressed against the soft tissue beneath her chin, using her as a precautionary living shield.

“That’s far enough,” he said, stopping them short of reaching Janet, who lay in the center of the room. “Nobody touches the bitch until I see Piper.”

The one holding the stretcher shifted his weight.

“You.” Kirk gestured at him with the revolver. “Why are there three of you?”

“Two to carry the board,” he drawled in a thick accent. “One to carry equipment and hold an IV.”

A cell phone trilled and Kirk tensed. “Answer it,” he ordered Emily. “Keep it on speaker.”

She calmly pressed the button to answer the call. “Hello?”

“This is Chief Enforcer Damian Alberez,” a deep voice rumbled through the speaker. “To whom am I speaking?”

Kirk nodded his approval when she glanced at him.

“Emily Sabian.”

“Are you injured?”

“No, but Janet is.”

“Are the paramedics helping her?”

Kirk draped his chin over her shoulder. “She gets help when I see Piper. That was the f*cking deal.”

There was a brief pause. “And you are?”

“I’m the one with the gun pointed at Emily’s pretty f*cking face! If you want her to keep it, you send Piper in here now!”

“I can’t do that, son,” Alberez said evenly.

“You can and—”

“Kirk?”

Piper’s voice slammed into him and stole his breath. They’d actually brought her to him.

“Kirk? Can you hear me?” An edge of desperation crept into her voice.

“Yeah,” he muttered and then cleared his throat. “I can hear you.”

“They won’t let me come inside. They’re telling me you need to let the paramedics help that girl and give yourself up.”

“They can f*cking go to Hell.”

“Kirk, please, just do what the Enforcers say.”

“Why should I? All I wanted was to see you and they won’t even give me that. Why the hell should I do anything they want?”

There was a pause, and when she spoke again, her voice carried a tinge of hopefulness. “Why did you want to see me?”

Once again, he marveled at her gullibility. “You know why.”

“You love me?”

He could no longer contain himself. He grabbed the phone, shoved Emily aside, and ripped open the blinds, searching the crowd for Piper. “So I could rip your f*cking heart out and bathe in your blood, you lying bitch!”

A fist connected with his jaw, slamming him in the wall. He tried to raise the revolver, only to have it knocked from his hand. More blows struck his torso, leaving him breathless, and a final swipe of his legs sent him crashing to the floor. Stars strobed and burst before his eyes as he tried to focus on the snarling face above him.

One of the paramedics—the one who’d been holding the orange board—knelt beside Kirk and rolled him roughly onto his stomach. The familiar heft and click of handcuffs settled around his wrists. “Get up, turdstain,” he growled with no trace of the heavy drawl he’d possessed earlier. “You’re not so tough when you don’t have a bunch of women to frighten, are you?”

“F*ck you,” Kirk gasped and stumbled over his own feet as he was handed off to one of the other Enforcers now swarming throughout the house.

“What should we do with him, sir?” an Enforcer asked the paramedic.

“He killed a human,” the Enforcer-paramedic said with a shrug. “Automatic death sentence. Take him out back and shoot his ass.”

“No!” Kirk strained to free himself from the Enforcer’s ironlike grip. “You can’t do this! You have no evidence! This is f*cking murder!”

“We have witnesses who saw you snap that truck driver’s neck. That’s all the evidence we need.”

“I can give you names! Lots of names!”

The Enforcer dressed as a paramedic shook his head. “Not interested.”

“Mindy Johnson!” Kirk screamed as the Enforcer holding him dragged him into the kitchen. “I can give you the last person to see Mindy Johnson alive!”

The Enforcer-paramedic held up his hand and the one holding Kirk stopped. “Say that again.”

“I can give you the last person who saw Mindy Johnson alive,” he repeated between ragged puffs.

The Enforcer-paramedic smirked. “Congratulations, kid. Now I’m interested.”

* * *

“Princess.”

Her father’s soft voice called to her and Alex recoiled, closing her eyes and covering her ears with her hands. Wasn’t it enough for Peter to dredge up the most painful memories of her and Varik’s past? Was she now doomed to relive her father’s death as well?

“Princess,” he called again, more insistent.

“Go away,” she mumbled. Chains clanked and rattled as she tightened her protective curl.

Gentle but firm hands wrapped around her arms, tugging her upright. She kicked and hurled curses at whoever held her.

“Alexandra!” The hands transitioned to the sides of her head, forcing her to meet a pair of emerald green eyes rimmed in gold. “It’s me!”

Her struggles ceased, replaced with a wash of relief. “Daddy.”

He smiled, showing perfect human teeth, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. The Irish lilt to his voice made his words almost musical. “There’s my girl. I was beginning to worry that I might be too late.”

“Too late?”

“To help you.” He pulled her to her feet. “We have to hurry before he discovers I’m here.”

Alex glanced at the video monitor, now playing a scene from her past in which she and Varik were working security for a high-profile vampire official. They’d been forced to hustle the official out of the building after someone in the crowd had opened fire.

She remembered the night well. It was the first night Varik had acknowledged he had feelings for her beyond teacher and student. Forcing down the rising sense of anguish, she watched as her father attempted to remove her chains. “Why is he doing this, Daddy?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Princess?” He grunted as he tried to pry open the bands covering her wrists. “The Dollmaker has been obsessed with you for years. I think that much should be clear from the number of dolls resembling you that we saw.”

“But why? What did I do to draw his attention?”

“I don’t know, but if I’d known any of this when I was still alive …” He let the thought trail away, shaking his head. He gave her wristbands a final tug and sighed in frustration. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t stop. Please, keep trying.”

“No, I wasn’t apologizing for the chains. I meant I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you, Princess, to watch you grow up.”

“It wasn’t your fault you were murdered.”

“Regardless, I just wanted you to know how proud I am—”

His declaration was cut short as a dark shadow rammed into his midsection, knocking Alex to the floor as it passed.

“Daddy!” She tugged at her chains, helpless as the specter and her father tumbled and struggled to gain the upper hand on the other.

Her father rolled backward, lifting his feet, and tossed the wraith aside but it was up and moving again before her father was able to rise to more than his knees.

“Too slow, old man,” the shadow growled from where it crouched in the corner.

“I may be a little slow but at least I’m not a coward hiding behind smoke and mirrors.” Her father gained his feet and slowly stood up. “But, then again, that’s always been your specialty. Hasn’t it, Peter?”

The dark mass rippled, solidified, and took on the appearance of the Dollmaker. “No fair trying to take what I rightfully stole, old man.”

“Life isn’t fair, Peter. That’s one thing you never could accept.”

A savage grin sliced across Peter’s face. “Why should I when I hold the power to level the playing field?”

“You’re a murderer.”

“Who’s the pot and who’s the kettle here, old man? You took more than a few lives yourself.”

“Liar!” Alex charged at Peter but was stopped short by the chains.

Peter stepped back and disappeared in a haze of gray mist.

“My father never hurt anyone!”

“Princess, don’t—”

“Do you hear me, you sick f*ck?” Alex shouted.

Gray mist surrounded her and materialized into Peter standing behind her, his fingers digging into the flesh of her arms. “Oh, I hear you, darling,” he whispered in her ear. “And I weep at your ignorance.”

“Let her go,” her father ordered, reaching for her.

“Back off, old man.” Peter held his hand up before them and a burst of blue energy smacked into her father’s chest, sending him tumbling backward.

“Daddy!”

Peter jerked her against him roughly. “It’s getting awfully crowded in here, darling. How about we go somewhere a little more private?”

“F*ck you!”

“Love to, but we have a few things to discuss first.” He wrapped his arms around her, pinning her own arms to her sides. “Say good-bye to Daddy Dearest.”

Her father and the surrounding room disappeared in a burst of gray mist, and then she was hurtling through the void, screaming Varik’s name, with Peter’s laughter ringing in her ears.

* * *

Varik entered the interview room, closed the door behind him, and leaned against it. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at Kirk Beljean seated at the lone table. Moments passed in silence before Kirk began to wiggle in his seat, eyes darting around the room, avoiding Varik’s steady observation.

When Kirk finally looked at him, it was to explode in anger. “Stop staring at me, you f*cking freak!”

Varik pushed away from the door. He took his time crossing the room to lean in close to Kirk. “You’re eighty-three years old and hang out with girls old enough to be your granddaughters, and you think I’m a freak?”

“Go to Hell.”

“Already there,” he snapped. “The question is how soon will you be joining me?”

Kirk scooted his chair to the side. “Get away from me.”

Varik retreated a few paces and studied the younger vampire—stringy brown hair, gray eyes, an unhealthy ashen complexion, too thin even for his small frame, and fingernails jagged and red from repeated biting. “Mindy Johnson. Where is she?”

“Dead, if she’s lucky.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Because if I find out she turned on me, I’ll kill the bitch myself.”

Varik grabbed a fistful of Kirk’s hair and slammed his head onto the table.

Kirk groaned.

“Where is she?”

“I think you broke my nose.”

“I’ll break more than that if you don’t tell me where Mindy is.”

“I don’t know!”

“The vampire you sent her to—I want his name. Where does he live? Describe him.”

“You don’t understand. I never met him face-to-face, only dealt with him over the phone. He calls every six or eight weeks and orders a girl. He always has me send them to the Thrifty Pick parking lot at midnight because they don’t have video cameras. I don’t know what he does with the girls from that point on, and it’s none of my business. But none of the girls come back, at least none come back to me.”

“And you didn’t think that was suspicious?”

Kirk laughed. “Man, some of these blood bunnies turn tricks for more than one broker. If they don’t come back to me, I assume they’re working for someone else or have moved on. Questions are unhealthy in my line of work.”

“What’s his name?”

“I want to see Piper first.”

“No.”

“Then I have nothing else to say.”

Varik loomed over Kirk. “No, there is one word you can say.”

He snorted. “And what would that be?”

“Mercy.” He kicked the chair from underneath Kirk and as Kirk fell, Varik grabbed the back of his shirt, hauled him to his feet, and shoved him against the wall. He pressed his forearm against Kirk’s throat, slowly choking off the younger vampire’s air supply. “Give. Me. His. Name.”

“No.”

“Give me his f*cking name,” Varik snarled, increasing the pressure on Kirk’s throat.

He gurgled his response.

“Tell me and you see Piper.”

Kirk struggled to draw a breath. “P-Peter … That’s all I know.” He gasped. “I swear.”

Varik released him and turned to face a camera in the corner near the door as Kirk tumbled to the floor behind him. “Did you get all that?”

Damian’s voice filled the room from a hidden speaker. “We got it.”

Varik nodded and headed for the door.

“Piper,” Kirk rasped. “When can I—”

“Oh, yeah, about that.” Varik half turned in the open doorway. “I lied.”

Kirk’s howl and shouted curses were muffled by the heavy door as Varik walked away and entered the nearby observation room. He joined Damian in front of a closed-circuit video monitor as they watched a live feed of Kirk using a chair in a futile attempt to break out of the interview room. “Persistent little f*cker, I’ll give him that.”

“We’ll keep the tape rolling for a while,” Damian said. “In case he gives up any more names.”

“What about this Peter?”

“It’s not much to go on, but I’ve already called Freddy and Reyes says he has some new info on that doll left with the Johnson girl’s car.”

Varik nodded. “I’ll be in the lab if you need anything.”

He opened the door to leave when the blood-bond roared to life.

Varik!

Alex’s call slammed into him with the psychic force of a small truck and bowled him over. Distorted memories mixed with flashes of conversation flooded his mind. Images of Alex chained and Bernard fighting shadows pushed to the forefront, only to be replaced by a dizzying sensation of free-falling through darkness.

Alex! He reached across the bond for her familiar warmth and felt the joy and hope that surged from her as she responded. Her mind brushed his, a gentle caress that was like a cooling salve to his tortured soul.

The bond trembled and Varik bellowed as Alex was ripped from his grasp.

A new presence filled with coldness and hatred tapped into the bond. She’s mine.

Over my dead body.

That can be arranged.

Varik reached for the intruding mind as it retreated, but it slipped from his grasp. Alex!

Varik …

The connection faltered and collapsed, leaving the echoed memory of her touch and voice in his mind. He was unable to stop the hot tears that spilled from his eyes. On his knees, he voiced his anger, fear, and longing in a wordless scream.