“Not much at first,” he admits, with a bit of frustration lacing his voice. “But she finally caved. I didn’t get the names of the people who left you there. Apparently you were dropped off anonymously. But she did tell me that for all the time that you’ve been there, only one person has ever come looking for you.”
That has my brows lifting in surprise. “I don’t remember anyone coming to see me.”
“He didn’t want to see you, she said. He just came to know if you were still at the home and after getting the confirmation, he left. She also remembers him always wearing sunglasses. Even when he came at night.”
“Sunglasses.” I nod in understanding. “A fucking vampire.”
“I would think so, ma’am.”
Interesting, though I’m not sure what exactly to do with that piece of information right now. “Did you get a name?”
“I did, actually. She said his name was Jameson Buillard.”
…what the fuck?
“Jameson Buillard?” I echo, incredulous. Joe reconfirms with a nod. No doubt he overheard the conversation between Gregor and me the night before and is as confused as I am. “He’s the same one Gregor claimed died by our hands.”
“So they say, ma’am,” Joe agrees. So they say, indeed. What are the odds that the same vampire who happened to visit my old foster home is the same vampire the Tigerheart gang is claiming we killed? Something is fishy, very fishy, but I can’t put my finger on it.
“Anything else?”
Joe shakes his head. “That’s everything, unfortunately.”
“It’s good enough. Good job. And Joe…no one hears a word about this. Not even Reece. Are we clear?”
That last bit surprises him. It’s no secret how close Reece and I are.
Joe swallows the surprise quickly. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Fourteen
Sneaking out of the Academy is more difficult than usual but just as annoying as I expect it to be. Reece seems to be everywhere, checking up on all the students, making sure no one isn’t starving, making sure they’re showing up to classes and training. That they’re comfortable. That they feel like their concerns are being addressed.
I feel like one of the students. No matter where I go, he appears, as if he moves as fast as I do. Or faster, a shadow that materializes wherever he deems fit. It pisses me off because all I want to do is get out of the Academy without anyone noticing, and seeing him only makes things harder.
Every time I look at him now, I have a mixture of feelings. The ones I recognize the easiest are my longing and my distrust. Two things I absolutely hate. The latter more than the former, of course. Reece is the last person on this earth I should be second guessing. I should be able to trust him with my life the way used to. The fact that I no longer trust anything that comes out of his mouth hurts more than it angers.
Somehow, I manage to avoid Reece. I don’t hesitate, knowing just how much of an oddity it is to sneak out as easily as I’m about to. In just a few minutes, I’m at the edge of the campus, running so fast that my thoughts are swept to the back of my mind. It’s freeing, to say the least. The silence this far out.
The wind licks at my face as I charge forward, and I welcome every chill it brings. All too quickly, I’m through the forest and winding my way to the Tigerhearts hideout.
“You have no business here,” one of them hisses at me. “Leave.”
“We’re not going to do all that again, are we? Please, where is the originality?” I shift my eyes to the other one, who is glaring just as intently.
“Mase.” The word is a growl and the guard who was speaking shrinks back immediately. I turn around to see Gregor approaching us, his eyes hard on his men. “Stand down.”
“Yes, sir,” they both say and just like that, they retreat into the shadows.
I turn to Gregor fully. I can smell the blood on his breath, so I know he’s coming back from feeding.
I approach him, and now that we’re standing face to face, I see that he’s not really that much taller than me.
“We need to talk,” I tell him.
He stares at me for a few seconds longer, as if searching for the trick in my words. “Not here,” he says finally. “Too many people might be listening. I know a place not too far from here where we can talk freely.”
He looks over my shoulder at his two guards who are now silently standing within the shadows. “Hold down the fort until I get back. Report to Velma if anything happens. Do not let anyone in.”
“Yes sir!” they say in unison.
Gregor nods at me, turns and take off. I’m right there with him, keeping one step behind as he leads the way. The city passes by us in a blur, a few alert humans noticing the rush of air that breathes past them, but none of them guessing that actual vampires may be in the vicinity. On our way, we pass by the club where I found Sarah and her friend, as booming as it was before. Clearly, the events of that night were kept quiet enough to scare off the party-goers.
I’m just getting into the run when we arrive.
We skid to a halt in a dark alleyway. Not many know that the city was perfectly designed with such little nooks and crannies with vampires specifically in mind.
Gregor leads me out into the city lights, turning the corner to the building we stand next to. “A diner? This is the place we can talk freely?”
“You won’t find any humans in here,” he reassures. The bell above the door dings when we enter. “We’ll be able to talk as freely as we want.”
Well, he is right about the first thing. No one’s here, save for the bored waitress behind the counter with earphones in her ears. She acknowledges Gregor when he walks by. She doesn’t spare me a single glance.
He slides into the booth furthest from the door. “Would you like something?”
“No, thanks. I don’t like human food.”
He doesn’t say anything to that. He signals to the waitress by raising two fingers. I look over in time to see her nodding at him. I face him again with a crooked brow. “Unless I’m getting blood soaked waffles, Gregor, I don’t want anything. What I want to do is get to why I needed to talk to you.”
He still says nothing, which is beginning to grind my gears. I’m on the verge of snapping at him when the waitress appears at our table. She calmly sets two full glasses of blood before the both of us then walks away.
“Drink up,” Gregor says, taking his glass.
Oh, I see now. “How’d you find this place?” I take the glass, giving it a sniff. Animal blood, but prime animal blood.
“I’ve been a vampire longer than you have. There are lots of underground establishments that are aware of the existence of vampires. You just haven’t found them yet. They’re as good at hiding as we are.”
I take a sip of the blood, letting it sit in my mouth for a while before swallowing.
Gregor watches me closely, a tiny frown creasing his brow. “You confuse me, Mariella.”
“Yeah?”
“A born vampire as young as you with such accomplishments. How did you do it?”
“Trying to learn my trade secrets, Gregor?” I joke lightly. I’m not really surprised that he doesn’t even smile a little bit. “We can sit and talk about how I formed and built the Academy to where it is now or we can get down to business. That guy you claimed we killed — tell me more about him.”
He chokes out a laugh. “You want information on the man you murdered?”
I grit my teeth. I try to choose my words carefully, dismissing the fact that he’s still intent on placing the guilt on my shoulders. “His name came up in an investigation of mine. I found it odd.”
“What sort of investigation?”
“None of your business, Gregor. Just tell me what I need to know. Jameson Buillard. How did he become a part of your gang?”
Gregor leans back in his seat, sipping his blood. “You’re asking me to give you information without any incentive to. About a vampire whose death I’m pretty sure you’re respo
nsible for.”
“We didn’t kill him, Gregor. And rather than ripping your tongue through your throat for killing one of my students, I’m trying to get to the goddamn bottom of this.”
“Make me an offer.”
“You’ve already taken enough.”
He takes a sip of his drink, nods to the waitress and stands. Something tells me that unless I’m prepared to handle this with violence, then playing nice is the only way I’ll get answers. The sane part of me knows that this is something I should drop. Reece is convinced that this won’t be Gregor’s last attack on us. The calmness he’s had, his willingness to talk, they all make me think that maybe Reece is wrong. So yes, I could drop this, go home, forget about Buillard, forget about my parents. But curiosity…it latches me in its grasp, unwilling to let me go. It’s even worse when that curiosity is something you’ve had your entire life; when it’s bond runs through your veins. I’m not looking for the kind of reunion that people write books about. But I need to find my parents.
“What is it that you want, Gregor? Money?”
A small smile parts his lips. “That would be a start,” he says and settles back down into his chair.
“Fine,” I say, feeling like the biggest traitor in the world.
“Fine.”
We don’t agree on a sum, but still, the conversation is pushed forward.
“Now, Jameson Buillard. What did you know about him?”
“Not much, actually. He wasn’t very talkative, which is something I liked about him. He just came to do what he had to do without any trouble. He passed the initiation test with flying colors. Best damn member we’ve had in a while. And then poof, he was gone. Not even a year and -”
“And you think we have something to do with his death.”
“The badge that was left at the scene. The Academy logo tainted in his blood.”
“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t even know about a Jameson Buillard until you showed me his file. Any leads on who might want to do something like that? Who might want to throw you guys a bone leading in the wrong direction?”
“You,” he says.
I shake my head at that. Despite his words, I know that he’s not convinced I’m the one responsible. He was when he sent one of his men to the Academy, but sitting here now…
“You know I have nothing to do with this, Gregor. And I’m not running a madhouse. The Academy doesn’t allow its students to roam around slaughtering people whether they deserve it or not.”
Gregor takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before blowing it out harshly. “There was a place Buillard liked to go to. If I ever needed him, that’s where I could find him.”
Hope blossoms in my chest. “Where’s that?”
“A nightclub. Not too far. We actually passed it on our way here.”
The only club we passed was the one I found Sarah at. Not great info but it’s something. I can go there, scope the place out. Ask a few questions. Hopefully, if he’s a regular, someone might remember him. The bartender, maybe?
As I’m about to take another sip of my drink, my memory hits as hard as a fist to the gut.
Now I know why Buillard looked so familiar to me. He was the one who told me where Sarah went. Who mentioned how ‘pale’ the girls were. That he had his eyes on the brunette.
Too many fucking coincidences.
But, he was human. His eyes were brown. It didn’t make any sense.
I mask the realization, twirling the blood in my cup. “You say he was turned when you got him, right? But on his file, his eyes were brown.”
“He said he was turned three years before he came to the gang. Got a copy of his personal information from the records room at the Ministry of Public Service.”
“Impressive.”
“We have our strong suits.”
Clearly sneaking into places is one of them. “And when did you say he died?”
He drains his glass. “We found what was left of him a week before we broke into your lair.”
A week. A whole week before I saw him at the club. Now I know that my suspicions are true. This whole thing is a set up and Jameson Buillard isn’t really dead. He must have faked it. But why? And what did that have to do with me?
“That’s all I need for now,” I say, almost sounding bored. I push my half drunken glass of blood away from me and slide out of the booth. “I’ll contact you later regarding payment.”
“You’re an honorable woman, Mariella.” Gregor doesn’t rise. He looks up at me, respect shining in his eyes. “It’s a pleasant surprise. A lot more pleasant than the things I’ve heard about you.”
“Yeah, well, don’t let your jaw drag on the floor. You killed one of my students, Gregor. Friends is not something we’ll ever be.”
He doesn’t give me a farewell, he just smiles and picks up my abandoned glass. I don’t say anything to the waitress as I slip past and exit the building.
Outside is frigid. The cold hits me like a runaway freight train and I pause for a moment, letting it sink in. It’s been a while since I’ve let myself be a part of my environment. So caught up in things to do, the people around me, that I haven’t taken the time out for myself. To be by myself. To just think.
So, instead of running at full speed, I tuck my hands into my pockets and stroll down the sidewalk. My hair is loose, blowing in the breeze. People rush by with their arms folded into their coats. No one pays attention to me and for the first time in a while, I feel like I’m left alone with my thoughts. And that is something that is both freeing as well as very, very, capable of driving me mad.
Reece and his secrets.
Buillard’s fake death.
Reece not wanting me to find my parents.
Buillard checking up on me when I was just a child.
All of this feels like way too much to handle alone. The only problem is, Reece is the one person I knew I could trust. Now? Reece is one of the things that boggle my mind the most.
Chapter Fifteen
I don’t return to my room. Instead, I go straight to Nelson and Hellen. Nelson is fast asleep, his fingers curled around a glass of Vodka. He’s the biggest lightweight I’ve ever met and I don’t need Hellen telling me that he only had a few sips before he knocked out to know that that’s exactly what happened.
“Something’s wrong.”
I don’t turn at the sound of Hellen’s voice. Sometimes, I’m surprised she isn’t at least a few thousand years old. She’s one of the smartest people I know and definitely tops everyone else in terms of intuition.
But I’m not ready to talk about it yet. “I need blood,” I say softly.
“And I’m awake.” She comes to stand beside me, extending her hand. I take it and allow her to lead me over to the chair I feed in. She settles into my lap without a word, brushing her hair aside.
It’s not until I see her neck do I realize that I’m not very hungry. If I do take a bite, I can’t feed for very long — because if I overeat, I just might find myself in the same place I was five years ago — and no doubt Hellen is going to notice that. I contemplate just doing it, but the drive is gone. I don’t really want to eat, I realize. I want to talk.
Hellen gets the message without me having to say a word. She fixed her hair into a tight bun and gets out of my lap, taking steps in the direction of the small bar at the other side of the room. When she returns, she isn’t empty handed. A bottle of tequila and two shot glasses are in her company and wordlessly, she sets them before us.
“I don’t think trying to get me drunk is going to work,” I tell her.
“Probably not, but it’s always fun.” She pours me a shot, then one for herself. I watch her as she knocks hers back, face contorting. She gives me a pointed look. “You’re going to have to move faster than that if you want to keep up.”
I take another shot. I won’t match her pace. I won’t even try. But I’m also in the kind of mood that means I’ll take as many shots as she pours.
“What’s bothering you, Mariella?” she asks. When she looks up at me, it seems as though she’s reflecting my pain in her eyes.
I take a moment to respond. I want to unload everything, if only to be able to get it off my own chest. I’m not quite sure it’s fair. And even though she can, I’m not sure she should have to handle it.
I press my fingers against my temples and rub firmly. The motion does nothing to ease the tension.
“I’m trying to find my parents,” I start.
Hellen nods. “I remember you telling us that you were raised in a foster home. You never cared about them before. Why the change? And why now? When you finally have a family.”
“To gloat,” I say, but even to my own ears it sounds more like a question.
“You and I both know that’s not it, Mariella.”
“I don’t know what it is, Hellen. A nagging feeling? Something in my gut telling me to find them? A damn mid-life crisis, despite my age? None of that seems plausible. None of that explains why it feels more important now than it’s ever felt. I don’t expect them to welcome me with open arms. I don’t even expect that I’ll like or forgive them. But as hectic as things have been in the last few days, they’re a lot less hectic than a few months ago which means I’ve been able to think. I’ve been able to look myself in the eye and see something that I never expected.”
“And what do you see, Mariella?”
“Someone who matters,” I say. “Someone who’s made a difference; whose helped people like me. Someone who is worth more than being dropped off and never thought about again.” I angrily throw another shot of tequila down my throat.
“And what does Reece think?”
“Why does it matter what Reece thinks?”
“Reece is the one you vent to. He’s the one you turn to when things get tough, the one you trust to say all the right things, no matter how hard they are for you to hear. It’s odd that you’re venting to me instead of him. I love you, Mariella, and I know you love me, but I’m not your first choice. He doesn’t approve, does he?”
Rogue Academy: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Academy Romance (Rogue Vampire Academy Book 1) Page 9