Blood Secrets

two



LIEUTENANT TASHA LOCKWOOD STARED AT THE LETTER on her kitchen table. Beside it, a teacup sat ignored, the water long since grown cold and murky with over-brewed tea. Instead, she cradled a glass of golden liquid and slowly melting ice cubes.

The letter was printed on heavy linen paper. Balanced scales of justice dominated the neatly printed header for Barnes, Butler, Lockwood, & Associates, the Baton Rouge law firm in which her ex-husband was a partner. Her eyes scanned the letter but her brain still refused to believe the words.

… presence required in Nassau County Family Court on December 4 to answer the petition for sole physical and legal custody of the minor child, Maya Lockwood …

Ten years after their divorce, Caleb was suing her for sole custody of their daughter.

She hadn’t argued when he was granted primary custody and she only received visitation rights. She hadn’t even argued when he filed a relocation petition with the court after he was offered the partnership in the law firm. However, she wasn’t going to let him take Maya completely away.

She lifted her glass and drained the golden liquid. Its slightly smoky taste was mellowed by the ice, just the way she liked it. Although the bourbon was chilled, it still burned as it slid down her throat. She shuddered and set the glass on the table with a soft thump.

Her phone rang and she automatically reached for her cell before she realized it was her personal home line. She frowned. Who would be calling her this early in the morning?

Pushing herself up from the table, Tasha picked up the cordless receiver. “Hello?”

“Judging from the angry message you left in my voice mail, I’m assuming you got my letter.”

“What the hell is going on, Caleb?” She backed against the wall for support. “Is something wrong with Maya?”

“Nothing’s wrong with Maya.”

“Then why are you trying to change the custody agreement?”

Caleb sighed and the familiar squeak-pop of his favorite reclining chair sounded over the line. “Maya doesn’t want to come to Jefferson anymore, Tasha. She says she’s happy here with her friends, me, and Shantee, and doesn’t want to leave anymore.”

A knife lodged in Tasha’s stomach, cold, hard, and painful. “I don’t believe that, and who the hell is Shantee?”

“Believe what you want, but I’m telling you exactly what Maya’s told me.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Shantee is my wife.”

The knife in Tasha’s stomach slowly twisted. “Your wife? You got remarried and didn’t tell me?”

“I sent you an invitation.”

“I didn’t get it.”

“Not my problem.”

“You could’ve at least called.”

“I did.” His voice adopted an irritated edge. “If you weren’t so busy playing a vampire’s bitch—”

“I am not a vampire’s bitch! I’m the f*cking liaison officer for Jefferson PD, Nassau County Sheriff’s Department, and the FBPI. It’s my job to work with vampires.”

“And given your fear of them, how’s that working out for you?”

“Don’t be a dick, Caleb, and stop trying to change the subject.” She moved to the table and poured another round of bourbon. “I’m not going to let you take Maya.”

“I’m not taking her, Tasha. I’ve already got her. This is her decision. I’m just trying to do what’s best for her.”

“What’s best is for her to spend time with her mother.” She gulped down the bourbon. “Not some wannabe stepmother floozy she barely knows.”

Silence consumed the line, and Tasha quietly cursed herself. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have—”

“I have to get ready for work,” he interjected.

“Caleb—”

“Good-bye, Tasha.”

The line clicked closed before she could respond. She returned the cordless handset to its cradle and sucked in a deep breath.

Caleb had been her first love. She was a high-school junior and he was a college freshman. After dating for three years, they married, and she joined the Jefferson Police Department while he worked full-time on his law degree. She enrolled in night classes and studied criminal justice. Maya was born a few years later. Life had been hard but good.

For a while.

Tasha first began drinking to relax from the rigors of working as a patrol officer. It was no big deal to have a few beers with her fellow officers after a shift. However, Tasha soon found herself sneaking shots before her shifts and then during. She told herself it wasn’t a problem, that everyone had their ways of coping. She rationalized it by saying she risked her life and deserved a little liquid compensation once in a while. No harm and no foul so long as no one saw her and the bad guys were going to jail.

Then Tasha’s drinking caught up with her a few months after she earned her detective’s badge. She failed to report for an important court date. The police chief wanted her fired on the spot. Caleb convinced the chief to place her on administrative leave, and she entered a treatment program.

When she returned from rehab, Caleb and three-year-old Maya were gone and divorce papers left in their stead. Tasha was devastated but didn’t fight Caleb’s demands for primary custody of their daughter. She was newly out of treatment, struggling to deal with her addiction and still maintain her job as a police officer. Maya was happy and well cared for with Caleb. The court awarded Tasha visitations once a month, every other major holiday, and four weeks during the summer.

That was ten years ago. Why was Caleb now seeking sole custody? Tasha glanced at the empty bourbon glass on the table. Did he know about her relapse? About her violating the chain of evidence?

The phone rang again and she jumped. She picked up the receiver.

“Listen very carefully,” a familiar distorted electronic voice droned. “We will say this only once.”

“Who is this?”

“We know you are in danger of losing your daughter.”

Tasha glanced at the cordless phone base and then to the narrow window overlooking a small backyard. “How do you know that?”

“That is unimportant. We can assist you.”

“Help me? How? Why?”

“Again, that is unimportant. If you want to see your daughter, you will follow our instructions.”

She hesitated and then sighed, slumping against the kitchen wall. “What do you want from me?”

“You are assisting the vampires in their search for Mindy Johnson.”

“I’m assigned to the task force, yes.”

“You will gather information on the one called Sabian.”

“Alex? But she’s on suspension.”

“Vampire Sabian was reinstated to full active duty status as of oh-six-twenty-seven this morning.”

Tasha’s head spun. “You want me to spy on a federal agent?”

“You will gather information on Sabian. Observe her behavior. Make a record of what she says and does.”

“I don’t understand why—”

“Understanding is not required. You will also retrieve Mindy Johnson’s journal and keep it safe until further notice.”

“Why do you want Mindy’s journal?”

“We will be in touch.”

“Wait!”

The line clicked three times and then switched to the monotone hum of a dial tone.

“Damn it!” Tasha jammed the handset into the cradle and it beeped in annoyance. She knew better than to check the caller ID logs. It would only show an unnamed caller and no number.

The same was true of trying to trace the call. She’d had similar calls during the Darryl Black investigation, including one instructing her to compromise the chain of evidence. Her conscience had eventually gotten the better of her, and she’d confessed her transgression to Varik. She could still hear his threat in her mind as clear as if he stood in the room with her.

If anything happens to Alex as a result of your actions, there will be nowhere on this earth you can hide from me.

Tasha believed if anyone could make good on a threat, it was Varik Baudelaire. She’d been checking into his past, and the little information she was able to unearth frightened her. Born in 1833, the only son of an aristocratic Parisian family, Varik had turned his back on his family’s wealth at the age of twenty-three. She found no mention of him after he walked away from the Baudelaire fortune until he surfaced in Louisville, Kentucky, in 1968, immediately following Bernard Sabian’s murder. She could only imagine what he may have been doing in that missing century.

Her gaze fell to Caleb’s letter and then shifted to the half-empty bourbon bottle. Hate and anger, fear and self-loathing warred for control of her emotions. She picked up the bottle and tossed it in the trash.

“I will not be intimidated,” she said to the last vestiges of night outside her window. “I will not succumb to my fears.”

Spinning on her heel, Tasha grabbed her cell phone and headed for her bedroom to dress for the long day of work ahead of her.

A nagging little voice in her mind laughed at her and made her pause in the threshold between the kitchen and hallway. Caleb’s right. They own you, the voice whispered. You f*cked up. The vamps covered it up.

After confessing to Varik that she’d broken the chain of evidence, he and Alex had omitted Tasha’s violation from their official reports. If she was discovered tampering with evidence again, she felt certain neither vampire would be so forgiving.

Now they own you, her inner tormentor teased. They’re never going to let you go.

Fear overwhelmed Tasha and rooted her to the floor.

If Caleb finds out what you’re doing, you’ll never see Maya again.

She couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t lose her daughter. Not again.

You’re weak. You know you can’t fight the vamps and Caleb. Not without me.

Tasha groaned and crossed the room. Her hands shook as she extracted the bourbon from the trash while her inner voice cackled in triumph.

Emily Sabian had always been an early riser, greeting the sun with a cup of coffee and usually one or two hours of work already behind her. Today was no different. She’d already cleaned the living and dining rooms, scrubbed the guest’s bathroom, and straightened her bedroom. The clothes dryer quietly spun in the laundry room off the kitchen.

Sitting at the island breakfast bar, she waited for the other two occupants of the house to rise while she looked around at the purple walls, white cabinets, and tan-colored granite countertops. It wasn’t her style, but then again, she was simply a guest.

Emily sipped her black coffee and pretended she didn’t hear the whispers filtering from beneath the closed door down the hallway. She pretended she didn’t hear the steady rhythmic creaking of a headboard or the low moans of pleasure. What her son and his human girlfriend did in their own home was none of her business.

She checked the clock display on the microwave and set her coffee aside. Emily moved to the refrigerator and took out a small test tube filled with thick crimson liquid. Unlike her children, Stephen and Alex, she no longer had her fangs and therefore couldn’t bite a donor. Like many vampires over the age of two hundred, Emily’s fangs had been filed down and capped in order to achieve a more human appearance. Blood was obtained through needles and stored in test tubes. At least she no longer had to hide the tubes.

In the time before vampires revealed themselves to humanity, blood was hidden in a variety of ways, wine bottles being the most popular. When Stephen and Alex were children, one of the more clever methods Emily had devised was mixing the blood with cherry Jell-O. The kids had loved it.

She placed the cold tube in a shallow bowl and reached for the teakettle warming on the stove. The water would gently warm the blood to the perfect temperature for consumption. She poured a stream of steaming water into the bowl, being careful not to spill.

A joyful shout from the master bedroom startled her. Hot water splashed on her hand. Crying out in pain, Emily dropped the kettle. It hit the stone counter and clanged to the tile floor.

“Mom!” Stephen called from down the hall. Rapid footsteps announced his approach a moment before he entered the kitchen, naked with blood dripping from his chin. “What is it? What happened?”

Emily quickly averted her eyes, grabbing for a dish towel. She wrapped it around her hand to hide the spreading blister. “I’m all right, Stephen.”

“You burned yourself,” he said. He reached for her hand. “Let me see.”

She pulled away. “I’m fine. I was warming some blood, and I dropped the kettle. That’s all.”

“You could’ve put it in the microwave for a few seconds.” He bent over, picked up the now-empty kettle, and set it back on the stovetop.

Emily kept her eyes locked on the sink in front of her. “I don’t like the way it makes the blood taste, and I’m not entirely comfortable discussing this with you while you’re naked.”

Stephen laughed and shook his bare butt at her. “Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen my ass before.”

Movement from the doorway captured her attention. Janet Klein, Stephen’s girlfriend, entered the kitchen wearing one of his T-shirts and holding a tissue to her neck. She passed a pair of faded jeans and a cell phone to him.

Emily’s gaze met her son’s. “You were much younger then and not so—”

“Impressive?” He smiled as he stepped behind the island so she only saw him from the waist up as he dressed.

Heat rose in her face. “I was going to say ‘healthy.’ ”

Janet tapped his chin as she yawned and then staggered to the nearby bathroom. Stephen wiped away the thin trickle of blood with a finger and promptly stuck it in his mouth. A shudder passed over him and his sky blue eyes began to bleed over to dark amber.

Emily checked the burn on her hand. It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. The skin around her thumb and index finger was bright red and throbbed with every beat of her heart. She’d suffered much worse though, and knew from experience that the burn would heal completely within a day or two.

“Got a text message from Alex,” Stephen said, drawing her focus to him. He leaned against the island, elbows supporting his upper body as he read from the small screen. “Varik pulled some strings and convinced Damian to reinstate Alex. They’re on their way to a crime scene.”

“What kind of case is it?”

“You heard about that missing girl?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it.”

“Oh, good. The sooner Alex can focus on something besides this inquiry, the better.” Emily realized how callous her statement sounded and rushed to correct herself. “I don’t mean it’s good a girl is missing, but that she’ll have something else to think about for a while.”

“I know what you meant, Mom.” He laid his cell phone to the side and ran a hand through his disheveled golden curls. “I just wish she wasn’t determined to shack up with Varik at the same time.”

“Don’t start, Stephen.”

“I can’t help it. I don’t trust the guy. Besides, Alex wouldn’t have to worry about an inquiry if Varik hadn’t shown his ass up here in the first place.”

The loathing Stephen had for Varik wasn’t news to Emily. He delighted in complaining about his sister’s relationship at every turn.

Sighing, she used her unburned hand to check the temp of the test tube still soaking in water. “I really wish you would give Varik a chance.”

“Why should I? The bastard nearly killed Alex—twice—and bound her to him against her will.”

“It wasn’t like that and you know it.”

“You didn’t see what he did to her, Mom. He practically tore her throat out and left her lying on the floor to die. She would’ve if I hadn’t shown up when I did.”

“It wasn’t his fault. He was injured and the blood-hunger was too much.”

“He’s a killer!”

“That was a long time ago and he was just doing his job.”

“I don’t understand why you keep defending him,” Stephen growled.

Janet returned and stopped short when the vampires ceased their conversation. She nervously covered the bite on her neck with her hand. “I, uh, I’ll come back for coffee.”

Emily removed the test tube from the water and watched Stephen’s eyes track his girlfriend down the hall to the master bedroom they shared. Once the door closed, she said, “I defend Varik because Alex is in love with him and needs him, especially now. I would do the same for you if Janet’s family ever turned on you.”

“Janet doesn’t have a family. Her parents are dead and she’s an only child.”

Sympathy for the girl stabbed Emily’s chest. “I didn’t know.” She ripped the stopper from the test tube and upended it, draining the blood.

Memories from the unknown donor’s life darted through her mind like phantoms. Fragments presented themselves for her review but were not retained. A rush of psychic energy surged through Emily’s body, revitalizing her.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mom,” Stephen said quietly once she’d thrown away the tube. He pushed himself up from the counter. “Especially about Varik.”

Emily watched him follow Janet’s path to the bedroom. She pulled on the silver chain at her neck and cradled the small silver four-leaf clover charm in the palm of her hand.

Thoughts of her husband, Bernard, crowded her mind. The charm had been his, a symbol of a secret she would do anything to protect. “I know enough, Stephen,” she whispered. “I know enough.”

She returned the chain to its place beneath her blouse and leaned against the sink. Staring out the window at the brightening eastern sky, she hoped the sun would burn away the darkness that continued to prey on her family.