Bonded by Blood

chapter SIXTEEN

“SIR, A NEW capture team in Seattle is on to something.”

A tall, slender man floated over to the monitor, his feet barely touching the floor, and he placed a bejeweled hand on the computer programmer’s shoulder. It lingered a moment longer than necessary as he bent down until he was eye-level with the screen. Maurice tried to keep from shivering but wasn’t having much luck. The Overlord’s breath reeked with the stench of his all-blood diet. Maurice hadn’t completely reverted to the old ways. He still enjoyed fast food. Maybe all those French fries would keep him from smelling this bad.

“What did they discover?” the Overlord asked.

“We’ve been checking and cross-checking our Sangre Dulce database against census reports and internet search engines, trying to track down other family members of known sweetbloods. The researchers think some families may carry the recessive gene that they can isolate in the lab.”

“I’m liking the sounds of this already.” The vampire’s thick, yellowed nails dug into Maurice’s shoulder. “So instead of mating two sweetbloods, they may be able to mate two non-sweetbloods who have the recessive trait and still get Sangre Dulce offspring? Is that what you’re saying?”

Maurice nodded, but he doubted the Overlord would like what he was going to hear next.

“So what has that Seattle cell discovered?”

“Remember that prolific family, the Shaws from Southern California, the one that produces several sweetbloods each generation?” He pushed his glasses up higher. They slipped down his nose when he sweated. And he always sweated when the Overlord was this close.

“Yes. I know them very well indeed. Let’s just say I’ve had a personal relationship with quite a few of them over the years.”

“Our boys were playing around on their new computer and accessed our database. Seems one of them has some internet sleuthing abilities, as he traced a Shaw female to the Seattle area. She had hyphenated her last name so she wasn’t flagged by our system.”

“A Shaw female there? Two new team members found a human with one of the most sought-out bloodlines? I’d call that an egregious oversight.”

“Yes, I agree, sir. We’ve put a patch into the code so our spiderbots are looking for hyphenated names, as well.”

“How did they find her?”

“She recently set up a website and her About Me page mentions San Diego. We would have found her eventually, sir. We did locate her brother—he doesn’t have a hyphenated last name and he’s not Sangre Dulce.”

The Overlord cursed quietly under his breath, halting the movement of air in Maurice’s lungs. “And you’re just figuring out now he has a sister? Do we know if she’s Sangre Dulce yet?”

“Yes, she is. They believe she has the sweetblood.” Maurice took off his glasses and mopped his forehead with a tissue.

“You believe?” The stench rose off the Overlord like a mist.

“She actually hasn’t been captured yet. The team had her cornered, but somehow before they could bring her in, one of them was staked and the other one ran.”

The pungent smell intensified and bile bubbled into Maurice’s esophagus, burning away at the lining. He could hardly keep his glasses perched on his nose.

“Who staked them and where is the female?”

“Agency operatives, sir, and we think one of them has her.”

The sound Maurice heard next surprised him a little. He’d figured death would hurt, but he hadn’t expected it to have a sound. It was rather like a juicy thud, a watermelon sliced in half with a sharp blade.

EVERY NERVE IN his body had frayed like ends of an unraveled rope by the time Dom pulled into the parking garage. If it hadn’t been dawn, he’d have walked the streets of Seattle looking for a fight. Any fight. It wouldn’t have mattered whether he ran into a Darkblood or not, as any confrontational being would’ve served the same purpose. His body itched with aggressive energy and he needed to unload it somehow.

A short time ago a willing female would’ve provided the necessary outlet for his pent-up aggressions. But it didn’t hold much appeal now since all he could think about was Mackenzie. He would not lie with another woman. If he were to be with someone else, he had to assume she’d do the same. And the thought of Mackenzie underneath another man, those emerald eyes looking up into a face other than his own, her lips swollen from another man’s kisses, another man’s name on her tongue, made him seethe with anger.

Should he call her? It was still early and he hoped she was sleeping back at Chuck and Shirl’s. He pulled out his cell phone, punched in her number. His thumb hovered over the Send button for a moment before he flipped the phone shut. He ached to hear her voice again but didn’t know what he would say. “I love you but I want to kill you. I want to be with you but I have no life to offer you.” What a f*cking catch he was.

He pressed Send anyway and clicked his earpiece. He had to hear the spirited lilt of her voice again, even if she was frightened of him. Or angry with him. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and clicked the wireless earpiece. It rang once and his heart tumbled in his rib cage. Twice and his scalp prickled with sweat. Three times and it went to voice mail. He listened to her whole message, letting the sound of her voice echo inside him, then hung up without leaving one of his own.

She deserved far better than anything he had to offer. He was an idiot to even contemplate a future.

After going through security, he took the stairs down to the field office two at a time. Changing out of his street clothes, he slipped on his favorite set of gloves and pummeled a punching bag until rivulets of sweat stung his eyes and blurred his vision. After a quick swipe with a towel, he grabbed a pair of wooden knives and worked the knife dummy, thrusting and twisting until his muscles screamed in protest. And then he did it all over again.

LILY HAD BEEN Looking forward to her daily run on the treadmill before turning in for the day, but when she pushed open the double doors to the gym and heard familiar, yet very irritating music screeching through the speakers, she knew her mindless 5K probably wasn’t going to happen. It had to be Dom. Why was he back so soon? She’d figured he’d be gone for another day or two—even if he had received her text message about what they’d found at the Darkblood den. Must not have gone well with the woman last night.

On the far side of the boxing ring, amidst a row of speed bags and heavy bags, she saw him. He was beating the crap out of a punching bag like an experienced fighter—an experienced, pissed-off fighter—dipping his head to avoid invisible fists as the balls of his feet danced on the mats. Faster, much faster than the tempo of his horrible music. His pace picked up as she approached, as if he were telling her to stay away and didn’t want to talk.

She scrutinized his hooded eyes and saw that his olive complexion looked even darker with the stubble on his chin. Holy shit. Had he drained the woman? Lifting her nose in the air, Lily casually sniffed. Just the same hint of Sweet she’d smelled back at the bar, maybe a tiny bit more, but definitely not a killing amount—thank goodness.

“I’m surprised to see you here, but then who else could be playing this kind of garbage?” She waited but got no response. She’d have to try something else. “In the mood to grapple, love?”

Wiping the sweat from his face with his shoulder, he grunted something and continued punching.

“I was going to log a few kilometers on the treadmill before calling it a day, but it looks like you could use some horizontal work on the mats. A little BJJ then a BJ?”

“Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and a blow job? Shit, Lily, go away.”

Didn’t that at least warrant a smile from him? Guess not. “Where’s, uh…Mackenzie. Everything okay?”

“On the island.”

Chuck and Shirl’s. Good. She’d be safe there, Chuck would see to that. He may be retired from the Agency, but he was still more than capable.

Dom grabbed a pair of wooden knives and the dizzying sound of repetitive clattering echoed above the music. Given what had happened last night with those two Darkbloods, the woman was probably safer on the island right now than she’d be in the Seattle area anyway.

Lily climbed onto her favorite treadmill and put in her ear buds as the belt slowly gained speed. What music could she play to drown out this crap? Before she could select a playlist, she heard a crash, then saw the wooden dummy fly across the room. Whoa. She grabbed at the handrails to regain her balance. He’d kicked the whole thing off its support posts. Was he jacked up or what?

After mopping his face with a white gym towel, he sat—no, collapsed—on a nearby bench. Interesting. There were many other places to sit, yet he chose this one. And he faced her. She draped the cord of her headphones around her neck and eased into a slow, non confrontational jog.

“Feel like talking?” Lily asked.

He flashed her a look that said no. As in, hell no, but he couldn’t fool her. She didn’t have to wait long. “About BJJ and BJs? Thought you had a regular hook-up anyway,” he said.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Had Santiago said anything? Surely he wouldn’t without consulting her first.

“Don’t want to make you tap out if you have a boyfriend. I’ll leave that for him to do.”

Figured he’d come out of his funk to torment her. “Me? Tap out? The only way you could do that is if I let you. You okay, love?”

“So you admit it. There is a guy.” He ignored her question. That was okay. He didn’t want to talk about it. At least she’d addressed it with him and he knew she cared.

“Who said anything about a guy? Maybe I’ve come to like my bread buttered on the other side, eh?” Lily said.

He picked at the white tape around his wrists and hands and said nothing more. After punching a few buttons on the control panel, she began running at her normal pace.

“How’s Zoe?” he asked. No matter what was going on, he always had a soft spot in his heart for her daughter.

“Great. She loved the latest Hello Kitty stuff you got her. Carried around that little purse all week. Today when I called to give her a long-distance good-morning kiss, Mother said she’s been sleeping with it, too.”

That got a smile. Finally. She hit the stop button on the treadmill and walked over to the bench. “Feel like talking?” His shoulders relaxed a notch, but he shook his head. “You don’t have to tell me what caused you to come back. To be separated from her must be difficult. But if there’s something else…”

For several moments, he sat with the towel over his head before he cleared his throat. “It’s the weirdest thing, Lil. I…a…discovered I’m able to vapor.”

Holy hell. “No way. You mean like our ancestors were supposedly able to do?”

“Yes. That’s it exactly. When Mackenzie was threatened by the remaining Darkblood, I vapored into the car through the crack in the window to get her to safety. I suppose I could’ve fought the bastard like I did with his partner, but I was overcome by the desire to get her away from him. My solid form just sort of disintegrated and flowed into where I wanted to be. I wasn’t consciously aware of it until I was sitting in the driver’s seat.”

“My God, Dom. How can that even be possible?”

“I have absolutely no idea. But I have a feeling it’s because of the way Mackenzie’s blood reacts with mine. She’s the source of my power.”

The double doors to the gym burst open and Jackson strode in, cell phone glued to his face. Dom stood from the bench, his eyes flat and dull.

“Not a word, Lil.” He turned and headed toward the locker room. She’d never seen him like this. He was a friggin’ mess. But could you blame him?

“Hey, did you hear what we found out about the guy you stiffed last night?” she called after him. “I sent you a text, but maybe you didn’t get it.”

Dom stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“We tracked his buddies to a shithole of a house on the Eastside. I thought it was all McMansions over there in software land, but this guy lived in a pigsty. It’s a wonder the neighbors didn’t call the cops because of the stench. I nearly lost my midnight snack when I smelled it. Jackson said you’d want to take care of the dude yourself, but I didn’t want to risk losing him—” well, that and she wasn’t sure what his San Diego plans were “—so I wasted the ass hole.” She climbed back on the treadmill. “We searched the place, not expecting to turn up much, but we came up with some stuff that was off the hook.”

Jackson snapped the phone shut as Dom finally turned. “You got that right.” He pulled out a triangular sandwich half from somewhere. Wearing a black Extreme Couture ball cap, a ripped gym T-shirt, and a pair of black sweatpants rolled down at the waist, he adjusted his crotch and sauntered over. Streaks of pale gold and light brown highlights mingled with his natural brown hair, which curled onto his shoulders. For a gym rat, he sure spent a lot of time on his hair. When he turned, a flash of color on his arm caught her attention.

“Nice ink.”

Jackson’s muscular biceps were the size of a human male’s quads and one sported a colorful new snake design that began on his forearm, wrapped around the inside of his elbow and ended with the head strategically placed on the largest part of his guns. Hell, he was looking pretty fine. Too bad he had the attention span of a gnat when it came to anything that didn’t involve sex. She loved the guy like a brother—well, not really. Maybe more like a friend with occasional benefits when neither of them had regular hook-ups.

“You like it?” Jackson said.

“Flex those bad boys on over here.”

He made a show of it, grabbing his wrist and tucking his arm in tight like a bodybuilder. The snake’s head appeared to strike as he pumped his muscle, but the stupid sandwich in his other hand sort of detracted from the picture.

“Nice, Jacks. Verra nice.”

“Thanks. You’re looking good, too.” He raked his eyes over her body and she noticed his gaze resting for a moment longer on her ass. She sucked in her stomach a little farther and knew she looked pretty damn good in these boy shorts.

“Hey, Dom, how’s it going, man?”

Dom raised a hand but didn’t look up. “Thanks for last night.”

“With that chick’s bike? No problem.” Jackson patted his chest as if he had pockets there, then his hips. “I’ve got her keys somewhere.”

Lily cleared her throat, pretending to be offended that Dom hadn’t thanked her, as well.

“You, too, Lil. Had me confused with all that talk about BJs…and stuff.” He took the keys from Jackson and gave them a long look.

“BJs? What did I miss?” Jackson stuffed the sandwich into his mouth in one bite.

“That’s the problem, Jacks. Not a damn thing.” She lengthened her stride slightly as she got into sync. Man, she wished someone would turn that music down, but Dom was understandably operating on a hair trigger this morning and she didn’t feel like pushing it. What was it about men and 80s music these past couple decades? She just didn’t get the allure.

“You know I’m always game.” Jackson flashed her a smile that would give an orthodontist a hard-on, then he turned back to Dom. “Hey, I thought you’d be in San Diego by now.”

When Dom didn’t answer, Lily wanted to speak up quietly, but the music was so damn loud she practically had to yell. “He was heading to the airport when he got word Mackenzie was in trouble.”

“Bummer, dude. How’s Miss Hello Kitty doing anyway?” Jackson turned sideways to admire himself in the full-length gym mirrors and took hold of his crotch as if checking out the profile of his package. He didn’t see Dom’s narrowed eyes or slightly flared nostrils, and certainly not his balled fists. “Got her holed up and satisfied? I figured you’d be gone another couple nights with the likes of her, since you missed your flight. Why aren’t you with her? What’s up with that?” Jackson’s hand lingered on his junk a moment too long.

Lily gave Jackson a throat-choking sign, but he didn’t look over. This wasn’t going to be pretty if he kept flapping his gums.

“Not as daring in the sack as she is on that bike, huh?”

Oh, hell. Jackson could be so stupid sometimes.

Before Lily could step in to prevent what she knew was coming, Dom had Jackson flat on the ground, standing over him with a foot on his neck. “You better shut that goddamn hole in your head.”

Jackson choked, gripped Dom’s shoe and tried to pry it off his throat. “Jesus, Dom.”

Lily slowed the treadmill to a jog as Dom’s face twisted with fury. Usually, he didn’t give a rat’s ass about anything, just did his job like a robot—a friggin’ intense robot—biding his time until he could transfer out of here. But now that his long-awaited transfer had finally gone through, he didn’t seem eager to leave. How interesting.

“If you say another disrespectful word about her or if I even sense you’re thinking of her in a way that’s a fraction less than honorable, I’ll have you regretting you were born male. You got it?”

Jackson gave him the thumbs-up sign and Dom stepped away. Coughing, Jackson rolled onto his hands and knees, hanging his head between his shoulder blades for a moment before he pushed himself up, the snake bulging on his biceps. “Sorry, man. I forgot how sensitive you are about her. I was just messin’ with you.” He repositioned the cocky tilt of his hat and rubbed his throat.

Lily slowed the treadmill to a walk. “Jacks, those loose lips are gonna cost you one of these days. That, and your dick.”

“Yeah, thanks. It is lethal.”

Lily patted her hips, her midsection and her arms, as if looking for something. Then, with her mouth ajar, she gave him a look of mock surprise. “Wow, that’s strange. I’m still alive.”

He flipped her a one-fingered salute as he stumbled to the watercooler.

“Lil, you said something was off the hook at that Darkblood den. What’d you find?” Dom asked.

She punched the up arrow and broke into a run again. “Jackson, you tell him. I’m in the zone here.”

Jackson filled a pointed paper cup from the water dispenser jug and walked it over to Lily. Yeah, he wasn’t as self-absorbed as he appeared. Pouring one for himself, he cleared his throat.

“Well, the place was a pit, a regular science experiment on every hard surface, so we didn’t expect to find much. Figured they were a couple of routine ferals and not part of the organized Alliance. We found some crazy shit in the basement though. Curdled my blood, and that’s hard to do.” Jackson rubbed his neck again.

“Crazy? As in how?” Dom asked.

“Torture and experiment crap. Chains, surgical instruments, leather straps, a couple of metal gurneys, needles, IV bags. Really creepy shit.”

“Yeah, real creepy,” Lily said. “Like horror movie creepy. We located their hard drive and Cordell is hacking into it right now. But I’ve got a bad feeling about this. If f*ck-ups like those two guys have an operation like that, what the hell is going on? They couldn’t have their—”

“You’re sure it’s Alliance?” Dom paced back and forth next to the boxing ring.

“It was too ritualistic down there for the likes of those two.” God, that music. Like a hangnail on a fresh manicure. She simply couldn’t stand it any longer and turned to Jackson. “Can you turn that crap off, or at least down? It’s giving me a flipping aneurism.” She slowed the treadmill once more as Jackson twisted the volume knob and the sound of a screeching guitar died into background noise. Much better. She could think again. “As I was saying, everything was too neat and tidy. Things were arranged neatly on a pegboard and labeled, like a retired engineer’s workbench, if that retired engineer planned on doing medical experiments and torture in his basement. It was as if the whole place was set up according to some master plan. We even found a couple of planograms.”

Dom kept pacing but scrunched up his forehead.

“You know, retail stores have POGs from their home office telling them how to display all their shit. Put this here, hang this over there, so that every store is set up the same way. There’s no way the losers who lived upstairs could have organized that basement without any outside help. And that kind of organization screams long-term, not just ‘hey, in case we run into a sweetblood or two.’ You know what I mean?”

Dom stopped and his eyes met Lily’s as the realization of their findings evidently sunk in. Experiments conducted on sweetbloods. Here. In Seattle. “Was it just the two of them living there?” His voice, though quiet, seethed with rage. She could almost smell it in the air.

“Yeah, just two bedrooms with blackened windows and a coffin in each.” After glancing at the treadmill panel, Lily stepped off and snatched a clean towel from the stack near the watercooler. She guessed 2K was better than no K.

“I even peeked inside. They’ve got goddamn dirt lining the bottoms. That is just so wrong.” Jackson stuffed another sandwich half into his mouth. His jaw popped as he struggled to chew the large mouthful, which would’ve taken her six or seven bites to get through. At least. The guy burned food like a coal furnace.

“Cordell. Where is he?” Dom strode across the mats and kicked the doors open.

“Computer lab,” Lily said, trotting after him.

“Wait up, guys. I’m coming with,” Jackson said, his voice muffled through the bread.

MACKENZIE PACED AROUND the living room a few times before she found the nerve to call Martin. Stuck somewhere in the San Juan Islands—she wasn’t sure which one—she didn’t think she’d be back in time to teach her class tonight. She never backed away from her commitments and didn’t feel comfortable putting her class in the hands of one of his grad students. But she saw no other option at this point since she was stranded so far away from home. Thank God she’d emailed Steve her latest photos yesterday and didn’t expect to be sent out anywhere for a location shoot for the next few days.

“The islands, huh? Staying in a romantic bed and breakfast with him?” Martin asked.

“Him who?”

“Hello? Don’t play dumb with me. I know I didn’t fail at my little matchmaking attempt the other day, regardless of what you say. Having a nice time with Dom?”

“He’s actually not here. He was, but not now.” She wanted to add that she didn’t know if he was coming back and that she had to figure out how to get home, but she didn’t.

“Honey, what happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She tried to give her voice a casual lilt. “He had to leave suddenly. I just wasn’t sure I’d make it home in time to teach my class tonight.”

“Don’t pull that nonsense on me, babe. I can tell you’re upset. What’s wrong? What happened?” Martin asked.

“Nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“Well, you don’t sound fine. How are you getting home? Do you need a pick-up? I’ve got a full class load today but I can come later on tonight or first thing tomorrow morning. I must’ve been all wrong about him, Kenz. I’m sorry. I pegged him as a good guy. What did he do? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Martin’s concern was touching.

“God, no. He’s a wonderful man.” As tears formed on the backs of her eyes, she took a deep breath and hoped her voice sounded strong. “An emergency came up that he hadn’t expected and he had to leave. I’m sure I’ll be hearing from him soon, but I just wanted to make sure my bases were covered for tonight. No big deal. Really.”

Why did she feel she had to gloss over the ugly details? Of course she couldn’t tell him the whole truth about Dom, but she didn’t feel compelled to tell him that Dom had abandoned her, either. What did it matter if Martin knew she was stranded with no means to get home? Why did she care if Martin detested Dom or not?

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. He’ll be back soon, I’m sure.” She forced herself to sound chipper as she changed the subject. Divert and distract. “Oh, you should see it here, Martin. It’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to head out to the beach. I just wish I’d thought to bring along my sketch pad.”

“I can’t wait to see your pictures.”

She didn’t tell him she didn’t have her camera, either.

“Listen,” he continued. “I’m glad you called. Have you talked to Mary yet?”

“The department secretary? No. Why?”

“It’s probably not anything to get worked up about, but two odd fellows came to the university the other evening asking about you. They were quite the duo, both tall and skinny, and shabbily dressed.”

The room started to spin and she willed herself to breathe.

“Mary called me wanting to know if she should give out your contact information. Evidently they inquired about a Mackenzie Shaw, not Foster-Shaw, so she wasn’t sure if it was you or not. I told her not to tell them anything, so they insisted on speaking to me.”

She felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach with a baseball bat. The attack on her had been premeditated. She hadn’t just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those monsters had sought her out. She grabbed the edge of the counter for support.

The day her father hadn’t come home, had this happened to him? Her mother had prepared his after-work snack like she always did. Sliced dill pickles and black olives on the same yellow plate with a chip on the edge. It sat untouched on the coffee table for three days. The police officer who came to talk to her mother ate all the dried out, three-day-old olives. She had laughed about it later to her mother and couldn’t figure out why her mother cried. What was so sad about eating old olives? she remembered thinking. Funny what a kid remembers.

Did two Darkbloods follow her father around all those years ago? Had they waited for the right opportunity to attack him? Had her father been as terrified as she had been? And how about Stacy? Had her cousin known what was happening to her?

She didn’t trust the ligaments in her legs to support her weight any longer, so she sank to the kitchen floor.

“Do you know what they wanted?” she managed to ask.

“Just that they needed to speak to you about some matter from long ago. You’re not in the witness protection program, are you?” He laughed.

She forced herself to join in, but didn’t trust herself to speak. If only he knew what was really going on.

“I don’t know if they’ll come around again—they didn’t leave any contact information—but I thought I’d give you the heads-up.”

She fought to keep her voice from cracking, but her hands shook violently and the phone almost fell from her grasp. “Thanks for looking out for me, Martin. I wonder who they are.” She had a glimpse of Dom raising a stake above his head and pounding it into that guy in the dark warehouse parking lot. “Must be someone else they’re looking for, but thanks for letting me know.”

AS HE WALKED down the labyrinthlike hallway toward the computer lab with Lily and Jackson, Dom felt as if someone had reached into his chest with a knife and sliced his heart in half. Mackenzie! Something was wrong.

“Go,” he told the others. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

He fumbled with the cell phone and dialed her number. Two rings, then her voice. For real. He leaned a shoulder unevenly against the wall.

“Mackenzie, are you okay?”

She didn’t answer him right away, but he could hear her breathing. “Yes.” Her voice was thin, barely audible.

Dios mio.

She had been worried or scared a moment ago, but now she just seemed angry. He slid down the wall and sat on the floor of the sterile hallway, cell phone cradled against his ear.

“What’s wrong? What just happened?” Dom asked.

“Other than you leaving me last night?”

“Mackenzie, I’m sorry. I wanted to stay, but you saw what I was capable of.”

“I saw a warrior last night, Dom. A man who was willing to fight for me, even to die for me. And yet—”

“Die for you? I practically killed you,” Dom said.

“Why do you not see yourself as I do?” She gave a sigh of exasperation and her voice had a sudden, cool edge. She was distancing herself from him, and that imaginary knife continued its sawing motion. “I have nothing here. No credit cards, no transportation, and my effin’ phone battery is almost dead. I’m fine, really. Maybe I’ll just walk home.”

“I said I’d be back and I meant it. What happened last night—”

“What happened last night was a nightmare. I just want to get the hell out of here and go home.”

He heard a click in his ear as she ended the call. He flew to his feet and pounded a fist against the wall, so hard that cement dust covered his boots.

She was mad at him now, but what had frightened her a moment ago?