Blood Bound

by Rachel Vincent

  “Cam…” Liv began, as Cavazos flushed with anger beneath a fragile facade of calm.

  “Fine.” I held up both hands, palms out. “I’m done.” I’d had my say, and pissing him off would only hamper our efforts on Hadley’s behalf. “But once this is over, he will answer for what he did to Van and those other girls.”

  “And when will you answer for what you did to them?” Cavazos returned, infuriatingly calm and smug, and for one long moment, I was at a loss for words, caught somewhere between guilt and righteous anger. “I know you killed my Binder, and the only reason you survived such an affront is that I wanted your services. Though I must say I’ve benefited from Olivia’s offer of an exchange.”

  She bristled over his invasive gaze, and my own anger flared hotter. But Cavazos wasn’t done. “You didn’t free those poor girls from indentured servitude. You merely exchanged one master for another.”

  “I was following orders—I had no choice. But they did. I didn’t make them sign, and none of those who did were underage,” I insisted, drowning in my ow guilt even as I tried to justify my actions, speared by the disgust clear on Anne’s face.

  She hadn’t known what I’d done.

  “I didn’t solicit their services, nor did I seal their bindings,” Cavazos said. “I didn’t even know some of them were bound as minors until the report came in that you’d recruited them for Tower.” He paused to let that hang in the air, and I couldn’t even deny the accusation. “When you get the chance, please extend my apologies to your friend Vanessa and assure her that the men who conscripted her have since met with a rather prolonged and painful end, befitting their crimes.”

  “Do not say her name.” Names were power, and that bastard had no right to wield any power over Van—not ever again.

  “Okay…” Liv stepped between us, as if she’d play mediator, and I read tension in every taut line in her body. “If we could get back to the point, the fact is that Tower’s not recruiting. He’s kidnapping people and stealing their blood, then selling it in the form of transfusions, to give temporary Skills to previous unSkilled people. For profit. For a huge profit, presumably.”

  Cavazos blinked. Then he blinked again, and I found his complete ignorance of the issue incredibly satisfying. Especially considering I’d been in the same position only hours before.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, and the effect was like watching a spring coil tighter, knowing it would soon explode from the tension. “Are you telling me that Jake Tower is selling Skills? To the general populace?”

  “Yes.” I took almost perverse pleasure in confirming that. “And he’s obviously decided that your daughter’s blood should be part of his inventory.”

  “What’s her Skill? I assume she’s either a Seer or a Binder?”

  “We don’t know yet.” Anne played nervously with the cap from a bottle of water. “She’s only seven. Most people don’t know their Skill until closer to puberty.”

  “But for Hadley, that may not be the case,” I pointed out. “Elle knew much earlier, right?”

  “How could Tower know that?” Liv asked, and they all three turned to me.

  I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. “You said Elle’s brother’s name is Harrison, right?” I asked, and Anne nodded. “Well, there’s a Sonny Maddox working for Tower. One chain link—he’s about three years in. If Sonny is actually Harrison, my guess is that he’s how Tower found out about Elle and Hadley.”

  “That son of a bitch!” Anne shouted.

  I shrugged. “He may not have had any choice.”

  “You know, I’m getting kind of tired of hearing that excuse tossed around,” she snapped, and I couldn’t blame her for her anger, even though it stung. I’d had nothing to do with Hadley being taken. “There are ways around most orders. You’ve all shown me that.”

  “Unfortunately, she’s right,” Cavazos said. “And beyond that, people can’t be made to do anything if they never commit to a binding in the first place. So there’s plenty of blame to go around.” He blinked, obviously dismissing the topic entirely, then glanced at each of us. “What else do you know? Where is this project being run? Where are they housing the blood donors? Are they all involuntary, or are people actually willingly selling their blood?”

  “Surely not…” Anne said, clearly horrified by the idea, but Liv only shrugged.

  “I assume it pays slightly better than donating plasma….”

  “But the risk! Having your blood on file…” Anne actually shuddered at the thought. “Tower could bind you, or find you at will. No amount of money is worth that kind of risk.”

  “Money is a very powerful motivator,” Cavazos said. “Almost as effective as fear…”

  I chose not to comment on that.

  “Look…” I ran one hand through my hair, fighting exhaustion and drowning in frustration. “I don’t know anything about the blood-transfusion project. I didn’t even know Tower was involved in it until Kori told us, so I’m no help to you there. But I can track Hadley. In fact, I can probably track her better now that we have her entire real name.”

  Cavazos, presumably, would be willing to reveal the middle name he’d given her, if it would help us find her.

  “But once we get there, I’ll be largely useless. I can’t fight against the Tower syndicate any more than your men can fight your organization,” I said, holding Cavazos’s gaze pointedly. “We’re going to need your men and your weapons for that. And we’re going to need them fast.” I lifted both brows at him in challenge when he scowled at me. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  “My men will be the solution, not the problem. You find her, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “Good. Once I’ve found her, we’ll call you with an address, and you can trot out your toy soldiers.”

  “Fine.” Cavazos pulled his phone from his pocket and tossed it to Liv. “Program your new number. I assume you remember mine?”

  “You really have to stop assuming things….” She hesitated for a moment, obviously reluctant, then dug out her own new phone and tossed it to him. While they exchanged numbers, I pulled Anne aside.

  “I don’t trust him,” I whispered, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge, just to look busy. “How’s he rating on the truth meter?”

  She shrugged. “He hasn’t outright lied yet.” Which meant he was telling the truth about Van’s underage binding—not that that absolved him of anything. “But I don’t trust him, either.”

  “Good. I need you to stay with him while Liv and I Track Hadley. Text me if he says anything that doesn’t ring true.”

  “No.” She shook her head vehemently while I stuffed the water into the bag Liv had packed for me. “I am not staying here alone with him. Take me and leave Liv here redCavazos.”

  “You saw what he did to her! I’m never leaving her alone with him again.” I zipped the bag and dropped it into a chair at the table.

  Her eyes widened. “But you’re willing to leave me with him? Don’t you think it’d be easier for him to just kill me now, rather than fight me for Hadley?”

  I coughed to disguise the half smile I couldn’t quite hide. “Anne, he doesn’t need to kill you to get custody of Hadley, legally or otherwise—a single DNA test will prove he’s her father and the courts will give her to him if he wants her.” She started to argue, and this time I spoke over her. “And before you say he’ll never submit to a test, it’s done through a cheek swab—no blood involved.”

  And that was assuming he even bothered with the courts, but I wasn’t going to scare her any worse by admitting he’d probably just take Hadley the minute we found her. “But my point is that he’s not going to hurt you. And you can have my gun, just in case.”

  But Anne only crossed her arms over her chest, digging in for the long haul. “I’m not staying alone with him. Liv can handle herself, Cam. She’s survived him for the past year and a half, all on her own. She’ll be fine. I’m coming with you.”

  I
started to argue again, but this time Liv cut me off, and I realized she’d heard at least the last part of our discussion. “Take her. I’ll be fine here.”

  “Liv…” I began, but she cut me off with a look.

  “You’re wasting time. Hadley’s time,” she pointed out, as Anne shoved my bag into my arms. “You’ll have to take my car back to your apartment.” Because I couldn’t drive hers through enemy territory. But then she really would be stuck there with Cavazos.

  “Fine.” But he watched me over her shoulder, hands in the pockets of his suit pants, as petty and obviously satisfied as the cat who ate a whole fucking nest of canaries.

  I pulled Liv toward the door with me, whispering on the way, trying not to see how swollen and blue her left cheek was. “Don’t drink with him. And don’t let him out of your sight, even to go to the bathroom. And call me if he—”

  She cut me off with a kiss, grim amusement sparking in her eyes. “I got this, Cam.”

  “Caballero,” Cavazos called from across the room. “If it’ll set your mind at ease, you have my word that she’ll still be breathing when you get back.”

  I glanced at him over her shoulder. “Your word? That’s a joke, right? Why don’t you give me a real laugh and swear on your honor?”

  “Okay…” Liv pulled open the front door and pushed me onto the landing ahead of her. “Time to go.” Anne followed me out, and Liv gave me another kiss, so long and deep I got lost in it, and almost couldn’t find my way back. Then a soft click from below brought me back to the real world and I glanced down to find two of Cavazos’s men aiming guns at my head.

  “It’s okay,” Cos said from the doorway, making a subtle lower-your-weapons gesture with one hand. “Caballero has agreed to do a little job for me, and service has its rewards….” He made another, less subtle gesture toward Liv, as if he was lending her to me, and my temper flared so bright and hot that for a moment the world seemed to glow around the edges.

  Obviously furious, Liv muttered several profanities at him, then turned back to me. “Be careful,” she whispered, and I nodded. Then she backed into the apartment after Cavazos while I escorted Anne down the steps.

  We ignored Cavazos’s men on the way to Liv’s car, and twenty minutes later we pulled into the parking lot of my own building and transferred all our stuff to my car. I let Anne drive so I could concentrate on Tracking.

  I closed my eyes while she drove, repeating the three-quarters I knew of Hadley’s name over and over in my head, peeking out at the city occasionally to suggest a side road or see what part of town we were in. After about fifteen minutes, we turned left and the pull from Hadley’s name—so strong I could feel it buzzing on the surface of my skin—finally matched the direction of the road we were on. I opened my eyes one final time and a sudden jolt of alarm drove Hadley’s name right out of my head. Not that it mattered by then.

  I knew the neighborhood. I knew where we were headed, even without tracking Hadley the final eighth of a mile.

  We were nowhere near the industrial district where I’d expected Tower to house his new project. We were also nowhere near the commercial district where he owned several large, unused office spaces that might have worked, if his “donors” weren’t prone to loud disturbances that might alert the neighbors.

  Instead, we were in a residential neighborhood. A very nice, very expensive residential neighborhood I’d been called to several times a year since I’d signed with the syndicate.

  “No, no, no…” I mumbled, staring out the glass, transfixed as the estate looming ahead grew larger and larger through the windshield.

  “What?” Anne glanced at me, then back at the road, which ended ahead in a massive circle drive serving just one residence. “Are we almost there?”

  I nodded, still staring at what little I could see of the house through the tall iron gate.

  “Which way?”

  “Straight.”

  She frowned, following my gaze. “But the road ends… Ohhh.” She pulled onto the side of the road in front of a patch of wooded-but-manicured land belonging to another property, out of sight from the house itself. “Is she in there?” Anne stared at the property ahead, and I nodded, my mind already buzzing with the complications this new information would mean for the rescue mission.

  “Whose house is that?” Anne demanded, but I couldn’t answer. “You can’t tell me, can you?” she guessed, and I nodded. “That means it’s his, doesn’t it? That’s Tower’s house? He’s keeping her in his own house? Why the hell would he do that?”

  I couldn’t answer any of her questions, and I didn’t even have an answer to the last one. Yed one syndicates often reaped the benefits of having influential police officers, politicians and government officials bound into their ranks—secretly, of course—but this was still quite a risk. A man had been murdered—a civilian, unconnected to the syndicate—and his wife and daughter had subsequently disappeared. If the public found out about that…

  But they wouldn’t. Tower wouldn’t keep her in his own home unless he was absolutely sure he could keep the whole thing from both the press and the officials.

  What he obviously didn’t realize, however, was that the child he’d stolen and hoped to hide from the world would actually shine some very unwanted attention on Tower’s private life—and lead his biggest enemy right to the front door.

  Twenty-Seven

  “Well, then, wake him up,” Ruben snapped into his cell phone, pacing back and forth behind the couch fast enough to make me dizzy. “I want everyone ready to go in half an hour.” I couldn’t make out the response over the line, but Ruben scowled and stopped pacing to listen. “Fine. Get Tatum ready just in case, but keep tracking Wilson and call me if you find him. Or if you hear anything.” He pressed a button to end the call, then slid his cell into his pocket and turned to face me, where I sat at the table.

  His table. In his apartment. Deep in his syndicate’s territory, with two of his armed men keeping watch outside.

  I’d never felt more caged in my entire life.

  “Missing another man?” I asked, as he slid into the chair across from me at the table.

  “My best Blinder dropped off the face of the planet two days ago.”

  “Well, hell.” Any other day of the year, I would have been thrilled to hear about Cavazos’s staffing problems, but Hadley deserved the very best of his resources, and a world-class Blinder would have come in very handy. Blinders can suck all the light out of a room, effectively leaving everyone in that room blind. Thus the name.

  Good Blinders can darken an entire house or small building. Great Blinders can darken an entire skyscraper, mall or office complex. I’d even heard once about a Blinder who could create his own patch of darkness outside, in broad daylight. But surely that was just an urban legend.

  “Anyone else?” I asked, and at first, I didn’t think he’d answer. The inner workings of his criminal empire were none of my business.

  But then he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I may be missing a Jammer.”

  “May? I guess he’s hard to keep tabs on, since he can’t be tracked?” Because something about a Jammer’s personal electromagnetic field scrambled his own energy signature, as well as those of anyone near him.

  “She,” Ruben corrected. “And yes. Which is why she’s required to check in with her supervisor every night with a progress report on each project.”

  Speaking of checking in… I set my phone on the table and stared at it, still waiting on word from Cam and Anne. “I take it she stopped checking in?”

  “And stopped answering her phone. And if she’s been back to her apartment, we can’t tell it.”

  “So why is she only maybe missing?”

  “She requested some personal time off and isn’t due to check in for four more days. And since she can’t be tracked and has obviously managed to destroy her phone, there’s nothing we can do but wait for her to come back.”

  “You k
now Tower has her, right? Along with your missing Blinder and probably the Binder who disappeared with the contracts he was working on.” And suddenly I realized we’d been alone together for at least twenty minutes without a single punch thrown. That had to be some kind of record.

  He nodded. “That does seem to be the obvious conclusion. Tower’s gone entirely too far this time.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Because you’ve never kidnapped anyone or bound someone against his or her will, or stolen blood for illicit purposes, or…”

  He met my gaze unflinchingly. “Business decisions, all of them. But there are lines even I won’t cross, and selling Skills to the general populace is one of those.”

  “Because it violates your personal moral code, or because you’re jealous that you didn’t think of it first?”

  Ruben’s scowl deepened. “Passing out Skills to people who don’t know how to use them will lower the value of those with legitimate Skills to market, which—you may have noticed—is my bread and butter. And yours.”

  Before I could figure out how to respond, his phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up, and in the second and a half that it took him to read the text message, his expression cycled through amusement and anger to…was that contemplation? He was considering something. Something I wasn’t going to like, based on the look of anticipation he turned my way when he slid his phone into his pocket and stood.

  “We’ve got company.”

  Before I could request details—before he could even get to the door—footsteps pounded up the stairs outside, light and fast, and the front door flew open. Michaela Cavazos stood in the doorway, knife in hand, beautiful mouth pressed into a thin, pale line, eyes blazing in fury.

  Damn it. I did not have time for another catfight.

  I stood and pulled my gun, but pointed it at the floor with the safety on—I could aim faster than she could cross the room, no contest.