Blood Secrets

seven



EMILY ENTERED THE FOYER OF THE HOME STEPHEN shared with Janet, closed the door, and leaned against it. Anger she thought she’d rid herself of decades prior had returned, and the desire to scream was almost more than she could bear.

Before moving farther into the house, she took a moment to compose herself and listen for signs of life. No voices greeted her. No breath sounded in other rooms. No hearts beat save her own.

Satisfied she was alone, Emily moved to the combination living and dining room adjacent to the kitchen and sank onto the beige sofa. Her conversation with Varik ran through her mind in a continuous loop, refining it until only one point remained fixed in her memory.

Alex saw Bernard with Siobhan.

Siobhan Kelly. Vampire. Mistress. Hunter-Talent. Fugitive. And a name Emily hadn’t spoken or even thought of in over forty years. Now she couldn’t banish Siobhan from her mind.

Maternal instinct arose. Danger stalked her family. Alex’s vision was only the beginning. She had to find a way to protect them.

But how? How could she protect them from a past she was sworn to keep secret?

Emily buried her face in her hands. Her mind became a rapid-fire series of questions and scenarios. Each potential solution was rejected as quickly as it formed, until her subconscious dredged forth yet another name she’d forgotten long ago.

Raising her head, she glanced at her cell phone lying on the table before her. If she called, would he answer?

“I have to try.” Her whisper echoed like a shout in the stillness of the empty house.

She dialed the number from memory, hoping it still worked. The receiving phone rang once. Twice. It was picked up on the fourth ring and a male voice filtered over the line.

“Hello?”

Her breath caught in her throat.

He repeated the greeting.

Emily couldn’t force the words from her lips.

His tone became more forceful. “Who is this?”

“Hello, Gregor,” she said in a much calmer voice than she felt. “It’s Emily.”

Silence descended and stretched for so long she began to fear the call had been lost.

“It’s been a long time,” Gregor finally said.

“Yes, it has.”

“How are you?”

“I’m well.” She closed her eyes, gathering her courage. “I know it’s a shock that I’m calling out of the blue like this, and you would have every right to refuse, but … I have a favor to ask of you.”

Another lengthy pause was followed by a few simple words. “What can I do?”

Emily took a deep breath and said in a rush, “I need you to save my daughter.”

As Varik eased his Corvette over the cruddy road leading to Coone’s Pull-n-Go Salvage Yard, Alex hunkered down in the passenger seat and wondered why she’d ever become an Enforcer.

It wasn’t the first time she’d thought of her motivations for joining the Bureau. Naturally the strongest impetus stemmed from her father’s murder and a desire for the justice denied her family as her father’s murder remained unsolved. She could’ve become a lawyer and accomplished much the same goal, however. Why had she pursued the role of Enforcer with such single-mindedness that she’d blocked all other options from her consideration?

The afternoon sunlight hit her face as Varik turned off the bumpy county road and onto the equally pockmarked driveway to the salvage yard. Squinting against the light, she reached for a pair of dark sunglasses she’d hung from the neckline of her shirt and slipped them over her eyes. While sunlight didn’t cause real vampires to burst into flames, much to the chagrin of blockbuster Hollywood productions, intense light did hurt their sensitive eyes. Wearing shades during the day was a small price to pay for the superior night vision they gained in return.

They arrived at the outer perimeter of the salvage yard to find police cars with their strobing blue and white lights scattered about the crude parking area. Uniformed officers in a group near the cars gestured in the direction of the gate and shook their heads. An old man looked on with unbridled curiosity from a mobile home’s porch.

“You haven’t spoken a word since we left town,” Varik said as he parked behind an empty sheriff’s department car. He switched off the Corvette’s engine and fixed her with a stern look over his dark aviator sunglasses. “You want to tell me what’s bugging you?”

“Before I told you about Tasha’s call, I got caught by Damian and the Tribunal’s Special Investigator.”

“Shit, that was quick. I didn’t think the SI would be here until later today.”

“Apparently SI Morgan Dreyer has a bug up her ass. She’s coming to observe me in the field, by the way, so you have to behave as much as I do. Damian’s orders.”

Varik’s spine turned rigid at the mention of Morgan’s name.

The blood-bond reacted to his emotional change and anxiety washed over Alex. “Is there something about Morgan I should know?”

Varik opened his door and climbed out, forcing her to scramble to follow.

“When I mentioned your name she acted as though she knew you,” Alex said as she joined him as they walked toward the fence separating the parking area from the rest of the salvage yard.

“She and I worked on cases during my pre-Bureau days.”

“How many cases?”

He paused, rubbing his chin and lost in thought. “You said she’s coming here?”

“She and Damian should be here any minute.”

“I think you and I should keep the bond open while she’s on-scene.”

Alex frowned. “Why?”

“Morgan’s an SI. It’s her job to provoke you, and you do have a temper.”

“So you want to use the bond as a way to mellow me out? It’s a blood-bond not psychic Prozac, Varik!”

Several humans turned to stare at them.

Alex moved even closer to him, and the scent of sandalwood and cinnamon called to her, enticing her to touch him. She jammed her hands into her jacket pockets and pitched her voice low. “Besides, we can’t ignore the fact that opening the bond in close proximity to each other for more than a few minutes has certain effects on us.”

He grinned. “Afraid you’ll jump my bones, Enforcer Sabian?”

“Don’t be gross.”

He winked at her over the top of his sunglasses. “You don’t hear me complaining, do you?”

“And what would you do if the bond took over? Push me up against a car and go at it with half of Jefferson’s police force watching?”

He tilted his head, and she could feel his eyes swiping over her body.

She waved her hand in front of his face. “Varik?”

“I’m thinking.”

She slapped his arm. “You’re sick.”

His laughter was shortened by the sound of an approaching vehicle.

A black Ford Expedition bounced up the rutted drive and parked behind two JPD units. Alex could feel the judging gaze of Morgan Dreyer sweeping over her even from a distance.

“They’re heeee-rrrrre,” he said in a singsong imitation of a classic horror film.

Morgan stepped down from the Expedition’s running board, and Alex instinctively stepped in front of Varik.

He laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The blood-bond pulsed between them as he attempted to open it. “Let me in,” he whispered.

“What about the side effect?” she said quietly over her shoulder.

He chuckled. “I promise if you throw yourself at me in a lustful manner, I’ll resist the temptation to ravish you.”

“A*shole,” she muttered.

“Do we have a deal?”

“Fine. Deal.”

Alex relaxed the shields keeping Varik’s psyche from intruding upon her own. The blood-bond surged to life, carrying his thoughts and emotions to her and sending hers to him. She gasped as the circuit completed and a series of recent memories seen from his viewpoint crowded into her mind: a dark-haired doll on a car seat; Alex lying on the rain-slick pavement and screaming at demons only she could see; her mother’s face bearing a sadness that tore at Alex’s heart.

The memories faded and were replaced with Damian and Morgan striding toward them. Damian still presented his carefully constructed neutrality, while Morgan beamed, her attention clearly focused on Varik.

He maneuvered around Alex to stand a step or two in front of her.

As the primary investigator for the case, it fell to him to greet the new arrivals. Alex could sense the conflicting emotions—anger, anxiety, dread, sadness—roiling within Varik. Pieces of memory filtered through the bond to her, but they were disjointed and she couldn’t make sense of them.

“Bonjour, mon amour,” Morgan said as Varik stepped up to greet her, hand extended. She ignored his hand and cupped his face in her hands, lightly brushing his lips with her own.

Anger curled Alex’s hands into fists.

Don’t you dare move. His command filled her thoughts and kept her from rushing forward. He gripped Morgan’s shoulders and firmly pushed her away. His words dripped acid when he spoke. “Hello, Morgan. Don’t ever do that again.”

Morgan thrust out her bottom lip in a perfect pout. “What’s the matter, lover? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“I’d rather have my fangs pulled.”

Alex tried to disguise her stifled snicker as an aborted sneeze and failed miserably.

Morgan pushed her designer sunglasses to the top of her head. Her hazel eyes had shifted to a bright copper and blazed with contempt.

An approaching vehicle silenced any remark Morgan would’ve made. Alex watched as what appeared to be a four-wheel-drive golf cart sped through the chain-link fence surrounding the salvage yard and stopped in front of their group. The driver surveyed them with uncertainty before focusing on Varik.

“Are you Enforcer Baudelaire?” the man asked.

“Yes.” He moved away from Morgan and Alex fell into step with him. “You must be Buddy Coone.”

The man nodded. “Lieutenant Lockwood sent me to pick you up.” His eyes darted to Alex then to Damian and Morgan. He took in Morgan’s crisp white shirt, navy pencil skirt, and inappropriate high heels. “The terrain’s kind of rough in the yard, ma’am. It might be safer if you changed your shoes. Wouldn’t want you to twist an ankle.”

A quick image of Morgan stepping in a hole, falling to the ground, and breaking her neck flashed through Alex’s mind.

Varik hid a laugh in a cough. Behave yourself.

Alex glared at him. I will if you explain where the hell Morgan gets off calling you her lover.

“I’ll be fine,” Morgan responded, positioning herself beside Varik.

Buddy looked doubtful. “There are ruts, holes, rusted metal, all kinds of things to trip over. Ma’am, are you sure you can—”

“I assure you, Mr. Coone, I’m perfectly capable of navigating the terrain without injury.”

Buddy shrugged. “Suit yourself, but I’ll have to make two trips. I’ve only got room for two of you at a time.”

Varik climbed into the cart’s flatbed. When Morgan appeared as though she was going to commandeer the remaining spot, Alex pushed forward. She shoved Morgan aside with a well-placed hip, grabbed the cart’s roll bar, and pulled herself on the bench seat beside Buddy Coone.

His startled yelp nearly drowned out Varik’s stifled laughter and Morgan’s curse.

Looking over her shoulder at Morgan, she feigned innocence. “Oh, I’m sorry, SI Dreyer. I thought you wanted to change your shoes.”

“Enforcer Sabian, I—”

The whine of the cart’s engine covered the rest of Morgan’s statement. Alex pointed at her ear and shook her head, shrugging.

Buddy directed the cart onto the path leading into the salvage yard.

Once they were out of sight, Varik’s explosion of laughter and pat on the shoulder combined with a surge of warmth over the bond. I love it when you’re jealous.

Alex sat up straighter and adjusted her sunglasses. I’m not jealous.

Oh, yes, you are.

Envy filled the bond and she sighed. All right. Maybe a little. But can you blame me after Morgan pulled that lover crap back there?

No, I suppose not.

Are you going to explain it?

We’re on our way to a body dump. Now isn’t exactly the best time.

The cart jounced down the side of a ditch and fought its way up the other side. Buddy swerved around a row of derelict minivans with clumps of brown weeds growing between them.

Alex noticed gray-black shadows darting among the wrecks and heard the unintelligible whisperings of the spirit world. She wasn’t surprised to find restless souls lingering in the salvage yard. After all, it was a cemetery of sorts and spirits often lingered near objects of significance. Could anything be more significant than the vehicle of one’s demise?

The blood-bond shivered and a short pornographic film featuring her flashed through her mind.

She twisted in her seat to punch Varik’s arm, startling Buddy and causing him to nearly collide with the remains of a compact car. “Knock it off!”

Laughing, Varik flooded the bond with his thoughts. You put the idea in my head.

I did not!

Were you or were you not the one who suggested I push you up against a car and—

That was not a suggestion, and you know it.

The bond shivered with the heat of his thoughts. Perhaps not but it’s not a bad idea.

We’re on our way to a body dump, as you pointed out. How can you possibly be thinking of sex?

I think the bond is affecting my judgment.

Alex snorted. I thought it was because you’re male and breathing.

Varik chuckled behind her but didn’t respond.

As they neared an isolated corner of the salvage yard, Buddy slowed the cart and stopped behind a white van with the JPD’s logo and the words CRIME SCENE RESPONSE UNIT emblazoned on the side. “This is as far as I go,” he said. “The lieutenant is over there, other side of the van. Look for a dark blue Ford.”

Alex stepped from the cart and she heard Varik scrambling to exit the flatbed.

“I’ll go fetch the other two,” Buddy said. “Y’all be careful. There’s a lot of broken glass around here.”

The cart motored away and wind swept across the pasture. Alex breathed deep, instantly regretting it as the overwhelming smell of decay assaulted her. Gagging, she clamped her hand over her nose and mouth, trying in vain to block the odor.

She’d heard humans describe the smell of decomposition as akin to a Dumpster filled with rotting fruit—sickly sweet mixed with a slightly musty odor. To the heightened senses of vampires, the smell was that of both a fruit-filled Dumpster and an open sewage line.

Varik assumed a similar stance to hers. “No need to look for a f*cking Ford. Just follow the damn smell.”

Tasha appeared from opposite the van. Her clothing was covered by a white Tyvek jumpsuit, plastic booties enveloped her shoes, and a paper cap protected her hair. The overall effect gave the lieutenant the appearance of a displeased Pillsbury Doughboy. “You’re going to want to suit up for this one.”

Alex and Varik moved to the rear of the van, where Tasha was pulling out matching jumpsuits for them.

“Tony’s with the body,” Tasha said while they stepped into the Tyvek suits. “What’s left of it, anyway.”

“Have you found any ID?” Varik asked, slipping plastic coverings over his boots.

“Not yet. Yard owner says the car isn’t part of his inventory. One of my guys is running the VIN number on the car now. Hopefully we can at least figure out the owner.”

Alex adjusted the paper cap to cover her hair. Cross-contamination of evidence was a huge risk at outdoor scenes. The protective gear they donned couldn’t prevent it with one hundred percent certainty but it did greatly reduce the odds. “How sure are you that it’s Mindy Johnson?”

“I’m not even sure it’s a person.”

Neither Alex nor Varik responded, allowing the severity of what they were about to see penetrate their minds. When they’d finished dressing in their protective gear, complete with latex gloves, Tasha led them toward a Ford Focus.

“Were you able to get anything from Mindy’s car?” she asked. “Anything that would lead us to suspect she’s still alive?”

“No, but I do have a working theory.” Varik offered a quick review of the morning’s events as the three slowly walked through the waist-high weeds.

“So you think this Dollmaker guy is here, in Jefferson?” Tasha asked. Suspicion and doubt weighted her words.

“It’s possible,” Varik said. “The similarities between what I saw in 1924 and today are too great for me to ignore and pass off as a coincidence or a copycat.”

“But you’re not ruling it out,” Tasha added.

“No, not yet.”

“If you’re correct, why would the Dollmaker come here? Everything you told me makes it sound like he prefers larger cities.”

“I don’t know why he’s here or if he even is here, Lieutenant. As I said, it’s a theory.”

Alex blocked out most of their argument in favor of stretching her senses to learn as much as possible about the scene around her. She focused on the battered Ford Focus. Large dents covered its exterior and the windshield was smashed. Mud caked the passenger’s side as though it’d been sprayed from the front wheel.

The trunk was open to its widest point, and Tony Maslan, JPD’s chief crime scene investigator, dressed in an identical Tyvek jumpsuit, snapped pictures of the trunk’s interior with a digital camera. He glanced up as they approached. The green tinge to his skin let Alex know whatever the trunk held was far worse than she was imagining.

She tried to set aside the nauseating smell of decomposition and search for other clues. The wind carried the metallic bite of rust mixed with the earthy scents of various animals. A faint but pungent strand of garlic made her nose wrinkle.

“What have you got, Tony?” Varik asked, bringing Alex out of her musings as they stopped.

“A goddamn mess,” the forensics tech responded. “Best I can tell is that we have a Caucasian female with red hair. Anything beyond that will have to be left for the medical examiner to sort out.”

Beside her, Varik hissed in disgust.

Alex forced herself to look into the trunk and struggled to make sense of what she saw. She fixated on a cluster of swollen black protrusions. A few of the misshapen lumps sported strange jagged lavender tips, but all rose from a sea of fine coppery threads that were matted and stained with a dark substance. It wasn’t until her mind recognized the black masses as fingers and the threads as hair that the gruesome scene fell into place like a macabre jigsaw puzzle.

“Who or what could have done this to a human being?” Tasha asked softly.

Varik moved in for a closer look. “It’s hard to say with this level of decomp but it looks almost like some kind of animal.”

“An animal?” Tony echoed. “How could an animal do that much damage to a person?”

“We have no way of knowing if it’s an animal or something else,” Alex answered, moving away from the gruesome sight. She worked her way alongside the car, searching for anything that seemed out of place. “Until Doc Hancock gets her on the table, we won’t even know who she is. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions until we have more facts.”

“She’s right,” Varik said. “Let’s just stick to what we see here and save the speculation for later.”

Tony and Tasha mumbled their agreement, and Varik began directing where Tony should concentrate his photos. Tasha stood back and watched, hands on hips and her expression unreadable, but her eyes followed Alex.

Alex ignored Tasha’s unusual amount of scrutiny and continued to circle the car. She traced the dents in her mind but avoided touching them until the exterior could be properly examined for prints. A pattern began to form and a sickening realization crept into her thoughts. She focused on the windshield and its spider-webbing cracks.

“Find something?” Varik asked as he joined her.

“Look at this.” She pointed to the double impacts from which the cracks radiated. “See the dark spots in the center?”

He leaned forward and after a moment nodded.

“I’ll bet a week’s pay when Freddy tests those stains it will come back as vampire blood.”

“What makes you think it’s vampire?” Tasha asked from the opposite side of the car. “Could be from a deer.”

Alex shook her head. “A deer is possible but unlikely. I’ve seen this kind of damage before. Look at the dent pattern.” She swept her arms over the crumpled hood. “It’s as though something attacked the car, rather than hit it by accident.”

“But why attack the car itself?”

“It held something the attacker wanted. Add in the condition of the body, and I think we’re looking at a vampire hyped on Midnight.”

Midnight was possibly the deadliest drug on the black market. A potent mixture of the human street drug Ecstasy, garlic, aspirin, and animal blood, it was highly addictive for vampires. The garlic and aspirin thinned the vampire’s blood, allowing the Ecstasy to have a greater hallucinogenic effect.

Animal blood, however, was the real danger. Vampires fed on the residual psychic energy in blood, rather than the blood itself. Animal blood carried a more primitive psychic signature, which in turn caused any vampire who consumed the drug to revert to a more animalistic state, and deaths—both vampire and human—were all too common.

“Shit,” Varik murmured. “There goes my theory.”

“An attack by a Midnight vampire makes sense but at the same time it doesn’t.” Alex placed her hands on her hips and shook her head. “If that body is Mindy Johnson, what the hell was she doing to run afoul of a Midnighter?”

“Mindy is a registered donor with a private recipient waiver,” Tasha said. “Maybe her recipient can answer that question.”

“Did her parents know who she was donating to?” Varik asked.

“No.”

“Even if we find her recipient, we still have the issue of finding whoever ditched her car,” Alex interjected. “It’s unlikely a Midnighter would even remember attacking her much less have the sense to get rid of her car.”

“Plus her car wasn’t damaged,” Varik added. “This one, on the other hand, has been beaten to Hell and back.”

They stared at the battered car, lost in thought. The whir of an approaching motor signaled the return of Buddy Coone and the arrival of Damian and Morgan.

Alex’s loathing for the Special Investigator and her anxiety over being forced to perform for the Tribunal’s benefit spread over the bond to Varik.

He brushed against her, sliding his hand across her lower back, as he moved into position at the front of the car. The intimacy of his touch shivered up her spine and made her gasp as a memory snapshot of their most recent lovemaking session flashed through her mind.

“Are you all right?” Tasha asked.

Alex nodded, chewing her bottom lip. She glanced at Varik from behind her dark shades and saw the knowing smirk on his face. You did that on purpose, you bastard.

His smirk turned to a grin.

“Is there something going on here I need to know about?” Tasha asked, annoyance evident in her tone.

“Yes.” Morgan’s voice drifted to them from nearby. “Please do fill the rest of us in on your obviously private joke, Enforcer Baudelaire.”

Varik’s smile disappeared. “If I did then it would no longer be private, would it, SI Dreyer?”

“Then bring us up to speed on everything instead,” Damian said, intercepting Morgan’s response. He moved to look into the trunk. “Who is she?”

As Varik recited what they knew so far and Tasha interjected information she’d learned from her interview with Mindy’s parents, Alex studied the salvage yard, noting the repaired fencing and the car’s proximity to it.

Whoever had disposed of the body and the car had gone through considerable effort. The land beyond the fence was flat pasture with a few clumps of oak trees. No road or path was visible along that side of the fence. Whoever ditched the car here would’ve had to drive or tow it across the neighboring field.

She frowned. But why leave either the car or the body where they could be found? Why not burn the vehicle with the body inside, thus reducing the amount of evidence as well as the odds of making a positive identification?

Movement beside a nearby rusted hulk drew her attention. A black shadow hovered close to the derelict vehicle. The shadow’s form wavered, elongated, and shifted into something vaguely humanoid.

Fine hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end. The sense of menace radiating from the shadow caused her to back up.

As she retreated, it moved forward.

“Alex?” Varik asked, heading toward her.

“Don’t move. Stand perfectly still.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Trouble.”

“What kind—”

The shadow charged.

Alex clambered to get out of its way but it moved too quickly. It caught her squarely in the chest and seemed to meld with her flesh as though her body were absorbing it. An unearthly cold passed through her, stealing her breath.

Voices rose in alarm around her. Varik’s hand clamped onto her shoulder. She could see him shouting her name but heard nothing beyond the increasing beat of her heart.

A presence entered her mind along with a sense of malice, directed not at her but outward. The blood-bond reached a fevered pitch as the entity seized upon it.

NO! Alex screamed at the possessing force.

The intruder left her in a rush, following the path of the open blood-bond. Too late, Varik attempted to throw up protective mental barriers. The shadow slammed into his body, lifting him from his feet and throwing him to the ground several feet away.

“Varik!” Alex hastily erected protective shields around her psyche, severing the bond. She rushed forward and slid to her knees at his side.

His eyes were wide, staring at something only he could see, and his mouth was open but no breath filled his lungs. A tremor traveled the length of his body and became a series of convulsions.

“He’s having a seizure!” Tasha shouted for Tony to call paramedics.

“No, he’s f*cking possessed!” Alex straddled him, trying to hold him still. She used her hands to steady his head. “Where are you, you son of a bitch?”

“Enforcer Sabian!” Morgan shouted. “I demand to know—”

A shadow darted within Varik’s eyes.

“Gotcha.” Alex threw open the bond and sent her consciousness chasing after the invader.

She was vaguely aware of strength leaving her body. The sensation of falling distracted her for only a moment, and then she was plunging through the darkness, searching for a shadow in an endless void.