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Tainted Night, Tainted Blood (Kat Redding)

Page 7

by E. S. Moore


  “I seriously doubt that.”

  Jonathan shrugged. “Either way, weres and vampires are dying much faster than they had before. Whoever is doing this is working fast, and I have a feeling they aren’t working alone.”

  I thought back to all the claw marks, the amount of carnage I had seen. Why would someone working alone claw someone to death if they had a sword?

  “I agree,” I said.

  “With weres belonging to Major Houses dying, things are becoming more and more dangerous for you.”

  My frown returned. “And why should you care?”

  Jonathan blinked at me as if I should already know. “We work well together whether you want to admit it or not. If someone manages to kill you, who would I go to when something like this arises?” He smirked.

  I wanted to be angry at that, but couldn’t. I didn’t want the Luna Cult showing up at my doorstep every time they had a problem. I had problems enough of my own without taking on theirs.

  “Why is it that every time I hear from you, you insist on telling me how much I’m in danger?” There was a little more heat in my words than I originally intended.

  Jonathan’s smirk turned into a warm, friendly smile. “Because I think you need reminding sometimes. You are so sure of yourself, so confident in your abilities, I sometimes think you forget to be afraid.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I know you well enough to know that if something threatens you, you will do something about it.” He sat forward. “I only ask that you consider working with the Cult once more when you do. This affects us all.”

  Footsteps coming from the stairs jerked my head to the side. Ethan peered around the corner, eyes wide. He was holding one of my swords awkwardly out in front of him. If someone had been there, they could have easily disarmed him. He might fix my weapons, but he sure as hell didn’t know how to use them.

  “I said stay in the lab.” I rose from where I was sitting, feeling strangely guilty. I picked up my gun and held it pointed to the ground.

  “I didn’t hear shooting, so I figured it was safe,” he said shakily.

  I eyed the sword and he gave me an abashed grin. There was no way he could have heard anything in his lab. The damn place was so soundproof a bomb could have gone off up here and he wouldn’t have known.

  “That doesn’t mean you should have come up to investigate,” I said.

  Jonathan rose from his seat and was watching the exchange. Ethan’s eyes traveled to our guest, but he quickly looked away. I couldn’t read the look on his face.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’ll be downstairs.”

  With the way he said it, I felt horrible. It was clear I’d hurt his feelings. Somehow, I think he felt left out, what with me sitting around chatting with Jonathan while Ethan hid away in his lab, more than likely terrified I was dying upstairs.

  Before I could say anything, he vanished back down the stairs. He moved so fast, I was afraid he might trip and skewer himself on the tip of the sword.

  “I remember him,” Jonathan said once Ethan was out of sight. “He was important to Count Valentino.”

  I turned to face him. “He’s important to me.”

  “I understand.” Jonathan looked at his feet like he was ashamed. “I was never told why the boy was so important. Valentino had plans for him, but I was never privy to that sort of information.”

  It was then I realized how volatile the situation could have been. What if Ethan had recognized Jonathan? Was there an unspoken grudge? Jonathan had been there when Ethan had been imprisoned in Valentino’s mansion. Just because Jonathan claimed to have had a change of heart didn’t mean everyone would believe him.

  Right then, I just wanted him out of my house.

  “Is that all you came for?” I said. “I’ve been warned, but I think I can handle it on my own.”

  “I’m sure you can,” Jonathan said. “But since this affects the both of us, I think it best we work together. I wouldn’t want one of my wolves to get killed because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “What do you want from me?” I held my back stiff. I had no intention of working with the Luna Cult ever again. The last time nearly got me killed. Not to mention the weirdness of it all, and I wasn’t just talking about working with werewolves.

  There was something about Jonathan that gave me a strange, queasy feeling deep in my gut. I hated that feeling, just as I hated the fact that I couldn’t bring myself to hate him. No matter how rude or obnoxious I got, he was always calm and friendly to me. It irked me to no end.

  “Come with me back to the Den,” he said. “I drove myself here and left the car a few miles down the road. It was quite the walk, but I figured you wouldn’t want me to drive all the way to your front door. I know how you value your privacy.”

  “And yet you came anyway.”

  He looked a little guilty at that. “Please,” he said. “Just come to the Den with me.”

  “I don’t see why I need to go to the Den. We’ve had a perfectly nice chat here.”

  He looked worried for a moment. “There are things we cannot discuss here.” He glanced toward the glass back door as if looking for something. I didn’t buy it. He was hiding something.

  “Like?”

  He looked away. “I cannot say.”

  A flash of anger shot through me. “So you expect me to drop everything and follow you to the Den without you telling me what this is all about?”

  “I already did. We must take care of whoever is doing the killings. We can’t let it go on.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He lowered his head. “I cannot divulge that information at this time.” He looked frightened. “If I were to tell you why I need you at the Den, you probably wouldn’t come.”

  “And that’s supposed to make me want to go?”

  A small smile quirked the edges of his mouth. “I have hope your curiosity will urge you to do the right thing.”

  I ground my teeth in frustration. He was right. I was curious. Not only that, but he was right about the killings affecting the both of us. I couldn’t stand by and let them continue unabated. Even though the killer was targeting vampires and werewolves, Purebloods were dying too. I couldn’t stand for that.

  “Fine,” I said, nearly growling the word. “Give me a few minutes to get ready. I’m not going out like this.”

  Jonathan smiled. “You look nice, though it is strange to see you in something other than leather.”

  I really did growl that time as I spun for the stairs. “Stay here,” I said. “Don’t move or I’ll have to reconsider my decision not to shoot you.”

  Jonathan bowed his head in acknowledgment and took a seat at the table. I glared at him for good measure and then stormed up the stairs.

  What was I doing jumping in with the Luna Cult again? I had sworn to myself the last time would be the only time. Now here I was, repeating past mistakes. What the fuck was wrong with me?

  I tore off my clothes, leaving them crumpled on the floor. I quickly dressed in my leathers, donning the persona of Lady Death. There were werewolves involved in this. I wanted to be ready for a fight.

  I grabbed my belt and shoulder holster and threw them on. The weapons from last night would be fine since I hadn’t used them. I was as ready as I would ever be.

  “One sec,” I said, coming down the stairs. Jonathan had started to rise but sat down before he had fully straightened.

  I went to the basement and pressed the intercom by the laboratory door. “Ethan?”

  There was a moment of silence before he answered. “Yeah?”

  “I’m leaving. I’ll be back later.” I started to walk away but stopped and pressed the button again. “Be careful and don’t let anyone in until I’m home.”

  “K,” came the faint response.

  I went back up the stairs and turned toward the front door, opening it. “Let’s go,” I said without glancing at Jonathan. I stepped out into the nigh
t and started walking without waiting for him. I was ready to get this over with.

  Somehow, I knew nothing good could come of working with the Luna Cult again. And yet I was doing it anyway.

  Call me a glutton for punishment. I just couldn’t help myself.

  I sighed and let Jonathan take the lead. Nothing good might come of it, but at least I would be doing something other than sitting around.

  I just hoped my decision to work with werewolves yet again wouldn’t get me killed.

  8

  Jonathan kept silent as he led the way to his car. He kept a brisk pace, taking us through the woods surrounding my house instead of going down the driveway and following the road. I wasn’t sure if he was doing it for my benefit or if he was just as paranoid as I was. Neither of us wanted to be spotted if at all possible.

  I paused at the passenger door to his car. It was nice and all, but it had been a long time since I had ridden in a car with anyone. I preferred the open air of my Honda to being cooped up in someone else’s vehicle.

  And I was about to get into the thing with a werewolf. Even if he wasn’t your normal wolf, Jonathan was still a monster. If he were to shift inside the car, I doubted I could fend him off in the confined space.

  I opened the passenger door and got in anyway. Jonathan wouldn’t hurt me. Somehow I knew that. He needed my help, sure, but I think it went much deeper than that.

  Neither of us spoke during the first few minutes. We rode side by side, me feeling all kinds of uncomfortable. I glanced at him a few times, and it was clear he was warring with something himself. His face changed expressions constantly, as if he was having an internal argument and was somehow losing both sides.

  Eventually, he sighed and seemed to relax. “You’ve been quiet as of late,” he said. He never took his eyes off the road.

  “I don’t have anything to say.”

  “I meant over the last few months. You haven’t come to the Den, haven’t sent me word as to how things were going.”

  “You haven’t done anything that required my sort of attention.”

  I meant it as a warning, but Jonathan smiled. “The invitation still stands. You are one of us as long as you don’t come in with foul intent. No one will harm you while I am Denmaster.”

  I squirmed in my seat. I still couldn’t get comfortable with the idea the Luna Cult accepted me as one of their own. Sure, there were a few who still didn’t like me, but that didn’t make it any easier. I probably would have liked it better if Jonathan was as uncomfortable sitting next to me as I was him.

  The faint smile never left his lips as we continued on in silence. He looked so relaxed it made me want to smack him. My back was stiff, my hands hovered near my weapons. There was no way I was going to relax, not with where we were going.

  Eventually, we entered the Ohio State campus. He stuck to the run-down portion of the old college. The Luna Cult controlled this area, though no one knew it. They kept a pretty low profile, hiding their Den in the mass of rundown, empty buildings. Lights from the occupied portion of the campus could still be seen from where we were, though they were far enough away that no one would see our approach.

  He pulled into a small underground garage a few minutes later. It looked as though it was about to cave in from the outside. Part of one wall just inside had crumbled away, as if someone had smashed it a few times with a really large hammer. Pillars holding up the roof over our head were pockmarked and looked ready to collapse.

  Once we were down a few levels, however, the place started to look a bit more respectable. Faint lights that couldn’t be seen from the outside lit the way. I caught a glimpse of motion on one of the pillars and for the first time noticed the cameras that followed us as we rode down the ramp.

  I knew the Luna Cult took their privacy seriously, but this seemed a bit much. I normally parked off in the middle of nowhere, hiding my motorcycle in an alley and walking the rest of the way to the Den. It appeared the Cult had a better method.

  “We’ll have to walk the rest of the way,” Jonathan said as we got out of his car. “It isn’t far.”

  I followed him out of the garage and through the campus. I couldn’t help but gaze over at the lights where the Purebloods were staying. To think the Luna Cult was so close to where young men and women were living was unsettling. Sure, I had known it before, but to actually see it was something else.

  “We don’t hunt them,” Jonathan said, glancing my way. He’d probably read some of my thoughts on my face.

  “I find that hard to believe. How many wolves are in the Cult now?”

  He smiled. “A few. The Columbus Cult currently is the only Cult with werewolves in their ranks as far as I am aware. We are special, and because of our removal of House Tremaine we have gained something of a reputation.”

  “Which draws others to you.”

  Jonathan shrugged noncommittally. “It is what it is.”

  I wasn’t so sure how much I liked the idea of more werewolves within the Luna Cult. One or two was bad enough. If too many got together, how long before they became a problem?

  “We make sure our newest were members follow our rules,” he said. “We don’t let them hunt like they would if they were rogues or under vampire influence. Those who have tasted blood, who have killed for pleasure and sport, are the hardest to break of the habit, but we do our best. We make sure their food is provided for without needless death.”

  I eyed him. He seemed genuine, but I found it hard to believe he could keep a group of werewolves from hunting if they wanted to. There were so many young people nearby, easy victims who might be too drunk or too stoned to fight back.

  But in the end, I believed him. I hadn’t heard about any excessive deaths at the campus. Sure, there were going to be a few. It was a way of life these days. Vampires and werewolves needed blood, and college campuses were usually easy targets, especially when a vampire House needed new recruits.

  We reached the green leading up to the old library that served as the Luna Cult Den. Jonathan’s glamour hid the true appearance of the building. It looked just as abandoned as every other structure on this end of the campus. Trash littered the green, and the Den itself looked dark and imposing.

  He opened the door for me and the darkness seemed to ooze outward. I stepped through, shielding my eyes to the bright glare I knew was to come.

  Light washed over me as I broke through the glamour. No one would be able to see it from the outside. Anyone who managed to approach the Den without getting hauled off by the Cult’s guards wouldn’t even know it was there unless they opened the door and stepped inside.

  It felt strange to walk through the door again. It brought back all the memories of a time I sorely wanted to forget, of a time I nearly lost my life. I half expected Pablo, one of the more aggressive Pureblood Cultists, to be standing there, waiting to greet me with hostility, but when my vision cleared, the big Mexican was nowhere to be seen.

  Instead, a small huddle of Cultists bowed their heads as my gaze fell on them. Jonathan came in behind me, smiling faintly as if he knew this was coming. A scrawny kid, whose tattoo of a crescent moon scored into his forehead looked worn and faded, stepped forward.

  “Welcome,” he said, bowing again. “We are honored by your presence.”

  I frowned and looked back at Jonathan. “What’s going on?”

  “They wanted to repay you for what you have done. They have waited a long time for this moment.”

  I looked back at the group and shook my head. “I don’t need your thanks. I did it for me.”

  The kid faltered. He blinked at me like he couldn’t quite understand what I was saying. “You helped us in our time of need,” he said. “It is our honor to serve you.”

  I ground my teeth. While what I had done might have kept the Cult from being absorbed by House Tremaine, it had also resulted in the death of the original Denmaster, as well as quite a few Pureblood Cultists. I didn’t deserve their thanks.

  I w
asn’t sure what to say. I sure as hell didn’t want the Luna Cult to serve me like they did their wolves. They could worship their werewolves if they wanted. I just wanted them to leave me out of it.

  When I didn’t say anything, the Cultist visibly slumped and returned to his companions. I felt bad, but I didn’t want their thanks. It was a bitchy thing to do, I know. He would get over it.

  “This way,” Jonathan said, disapproval clear in his voice.

  He led me up the stairs, marching as if he wanted nothing to do with me now. I glanced back at the Pureblood Cultists, feeling guiltier by the moment. They were watching me with sad, confused eyes. I had to look away, shame flooding me. Did I really need to treat them that way? They only wanted to be nice.

  We reached the top of the stairs and Jonathan turned toward the gilded doors carved with werewolves in various stages of shifting. The small glass window above the scene was stained to look like the full moon. Two boys stood on either side of the door as if guarding it, which was new. There were no other Cultists on this floor.

  One of the boys gasped as soon as he saw me and staggered along the wall as if he could melt through it. It took me a moment, but I recognized the kid. I never thought I would see him again.

  “Jeremy.” Jonathan’s tone was hard. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the kid’s reaction or my treatment of his Cultists.

  Jeremy straightened but didn’t return to his place in front of the door. “It’s her,” he said, pointing at me. “She’s the one.”

  Jonathan sighed. “I figured as much,” he said. “Return to your post. She won’t harm you here.”

  Jeremy took a faltering step back toward the door. His eyes never left mine as he slunk back into place. His companion snickered but didn’t make a move.

  Jonathan glanced at me. “We found him dying in the streets. We have you to thank for bringing him into our ranks, it appears.”

  I frowned. I remembered the kid. Jeremy Lincoln had followed me out of The Bloody Stake one night, intent on having me for dinner. In a misguided show of compassion, I let him go with a warning not to hunt within the city ever again. I thought he would flee town, find a new place to resume his hunt, yet there he stood, trembling in front of me like he expected me to kill him right then and there.

 

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