By Blood Sworn

by Jones, Janice

  “We talked, remember?” she said. “Anything else will have to wait until later.”

  Jason pulled her closer, placed his warm lips to her ear. “The plane takes off at midnight. Don’t be late.”

  When he kissed her ear, it sent tingles through her body.

  “I won’t,” she answered as she backed away.

  The snow that fell outside the limo window made New York seem tame. It was anything but. Conner watched as his son approached the car after saying goodbye to his friends. His friends climbed into a cab as he climbed into the backseat of the warm limo and nodded in Conner’s direction.

  Rockefeller Center disappeared as the car pulled away from the curb and into early evening traffic. Snowflakes, the ones that hitched a ride on the young man’s coat, melted quickly into the carpet at his feet. His navy blazer was slightly wrinkled as he shrugged his peacoat off his slim shoulders.

  He placed the coat on the seat across from them; a black cord stretched from his smartphone to his ears. The bass vibrated around the close quarters they shared. Conner continued to take inventory.

  His yellow, maroon, and white striped tie hung loosely around his neck. The white dress shirt was new and starched, but his khaki pants were frayed at the cuffs and his loafers needed to be replaced soon, along with the brown leather belt around his waist. Conner tapped his arm, and the young man pulled the earphones out with a slight eye roll.

  “You’ll ruin your hearing,” Conner commented.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled as he tapped the screen of his phone.

  “How was your day?”

  The young man shrugged. “Fine. Yours?”

  Conner pulled at a loose thread on the teen’s lapel. “We should replace this before it falls apart.”

  “It’s fine, Con,” he huffed then brushed Conner’s hand away.

  “How was the trip to DC?” Conner continued trying to coax a conversation out of his moody teenaged son, Andrew Gale—Drew for short.

  “Boring,” he answered. His foot tapped absently. Conner had learned over time that this meant he was angry. “I’ve been in the White House lots of times. It never changes.” He gave Conner a quick smirk then turned his head back to his window.

  “What’s wrong?” Conner asked.

  Drew turned to his father. His brown eyes burned with anger. They’d argued before he left for the trip this morning. And the argument, apparently, was not over yet—at least not for Drew.

  “You know what,” he sighed. “Are you ready to be reasonable about this?”

  Conner cocked his head to one side, turned his body slightly to look Drew in the eyes. “I am being reasonable; you just don’t agree with my decision.”

  “I don’t agree that it’s your decision to make,” Drew replied as he matched Conner’s posture and tone.

  Conner swallowed the shout he wanted to let out at his son. At least he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. “And whose decision is it?”

  “Mine,” Drew replied. “I don’t understand why I have to wait until my twenty-first birthday. I’ll be eighteen next month.”

  “Go on,” Conner replied.

  “I’ll be old enough to vote and go to war. Why won’t I be old enough for that?”

  “We’re not talking about electing a President or you joining the military. We’re talking about changing everything that you are, Drew. I just want you to enjoy being human for a little while longer.”

  “Why?” he mumbled. “It was hell until I came here.”

  “You have friends and soccer; I know you enjoy those things,” Conner replied as he ignored his last statement. “Don’t give that up so easily.”

  “I won’t give it up after I’m turned, Con, I swear.”

  “You would have to, Drew,” Conner answered. “We couldn’t take the chance of discovery.”

  “I could hold back,” Drew assured his father.

  Conner shook his head as he faced forward again. “It’s not that easy. Besides, you like to win too much.”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “You would have an unfair advantage.”

  “That’s not the reason and you know it,” Drew huffed as he faced forward as well.

  He forced the earplugs back in and turned up the music. Before Conner could pull them out, he jerked around, snatching them out again.

  “You turned Zu when he was nineteen,” he sniffed.

  “That was different.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he almost died. I was not going to let my son die if I could save him.”

  “Sometimes I wish I was dying,” Drew growled then turned away. “Then maybe . . .”

  Conner grabbed the phone, cord and all, before Drew could shut him out again then pulled him around to face him by his lapels. “Don’t you ever say anything like that to me again,” he growled. His fangs descended and Drew began to shake with fear. “I am your father and I say when you become vampire—if you ever do!”

  Of his six sons, Drew was the youngest. Of his four adopted sons, Drew was the only one still human. Conner knew it bothered Drew, but he would not turn him until his twenty-first birthday, if ever.

  “I’m sorry, Con,” he heard Drew whisper after he’d released him and put some distance between them. Conner just nodded but didn’t look at his son. “I mean it. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Conner gave his leg a pat. “It’s fine, son, really.”

  Drew slid closer and placed his head on Conner’s shoulder. Conner kissed his forehead as they rode through the dark streets of New York in silence.

  Back at the penthouse, Drew went straight to his room. Conner listened as he climbed the stairs and closed his bedroom door. He took off his jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves, and began to prepare a sandwich for his youngest son.

  With the turkey and wheat bread sandwich, a glass of almond milk, and a banana on the tray, he climbed the stairs slowly. Conner tapped the door with his foot and waited. He never entered their rooms without being asked first. He could respect their privacy as long as he was never given a reason not to. Inside the room, a lone bedside lamp blazed. Drew sat on the bed with a book in his lap.

  Conner could smell bath soap and toothpaste in the air. He saw the towel Drew had abandoned on the floor after his shower. Once the tray was on the bed, Drew put it in his lap.

  “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.”

  He watched as Conner reached down and picked up the stray towel. As he folded it, Drew began eating his late dinner. “I was gonna pick that up.”

  “Of course you were,” Conner grinned at him as he walked across the room to his private bath and laid the towel over the rack. Back at his bed, he watched him eat.

  “I’m not a kid anymore, Con.”

  “I know you’re not.”

  Drew took one more bite, then pushed away what was left on the tray. After he emptied the glass, he ate the banana in three bites.

  “I think I understand.”

  Conner sat down at the foot of the bed. “Do you?”

  “Forever’s a long time,” Drew replied.

  “Ours can be,” Conner answered with a nod. “Sooner than you’d like, you will have to let go of your human friends. They would eventually notice you’re not aging at the same rate as they are. That would be really hard to explain at your forty-year reunion—you looking twenty and some of them balding and gray.”

  “I guess so,” he nodded with a grin.

  “Don’t worry,” Conner said. His worry radiated all over the room. “We will discuss this more when the time comes.”

  Conner stood, picked up the tray, then leaned over and kissed the top of his son’s head. At the door, Drew called to him.

  “What would we discuss, exactly?”

  Conner leaned on the door frame and gave Drew a
thoughtful gaze. He could remember the twelve-year-old pickpocket who joined his family five years ago. A tough little bastard who had survived on the streets of New York City since he was seven years old. Now, at seventeen, he was one of the heirs to the Gale Family billions and in three more years, he’d be immortal.

  “What you want to do when you grow up. Where you fit in the company. How you want to die.”

  He didn’t expect the fear in Drew’s eyes at that last statement, but he was glad it had that effect on him. The terror hit Conner’s heart though. It wouldn’t be easy to turn his human son. That’s why he wanted to wait. They had to die in order to turn. Dying was never fun, and Conner was not looking forward to taking Drew’s mortal life. He secretly hoped Drew would change his mind—wait even longer after he found out what the process was, but he knew he wouldn’t, and Conner would have to kill him to keep Drew forever.

  Chapter 11

  “Really?” Alex smiled as they pulled into a well-lit parking lot on the outskirts of town. “Batting cages?”

  Michael laughed. “Why not? It’s not like this is a date, right?”

  They climbed from the convertible at the same time.

  “Right,” she answered.

  He tossed a helmet at her as they walked toward the last cage, traveling down the gravel path lined with portable heaters. It was pretty empty, but Alex figured it was best to be as far away from the few humans out here as possible under the circumstances.

  As a kid, these kinds of places were her training ground—environments where humans let their guard down and vampires hunted without fear. Amusement parks were the worst, only because it was hard to follow people onto a rollercoaster.

  Vampires hunted in places like these because it was like shooting fish in a freaking barrel. The blood of children filled with all those tasty chemicals was hard to resist. Adrenaline could be awfully intoxicating to a vampire, especially a hungry one. They could smell excited teenagers from a mile away. Is that why he picked this place?

  Alex gripped the aluminum bat and waited for the pitch. The hollow clunk of bat and ball as they connected echoed through the air. They watched as the white ball sailed out to the homerun sign.

  “Not bad,” she heard Michael say over the sound of the machine as it prepared to send another ball her way.

  “I don’t really know what I’m doing,” she lied, then sent the next two pitches out in the sticks as well. Then Michael whistled as the machine stopped and waited for more coins.

  “You seem to be doing pretty well for someone who doesn’t know the game.”

  Michael took her place in the cage. He swung the bat around to loosen up his shoulder muscles then took a pretty professional looking stance at the plate.

  “Let me guess,” Alex said as she pumped coins into the machine. After she was outside the cage, she leaned on the chain link fence. “You used to play baseball?”

  He shook his head then swung at the first pitch. When the ball took flight in the opposite direction, Michael smiled. “One of my college buddies is a pitching coach for a farm team. He lets me practice with the team sometimes.”

  “When you’re not working at the manor,” she replied as he hit two more balls out into the darkness. He missed the last pitch then turned in her direction.

  “I lied to you, sorta.”

  “About what?”

  He walked up to the fence that separated them and slipped his fingers through the holes above hers. As he looked down on her, Alex suddenly had the urge to run so she didn’t hear what he had to say. She was tired of secrets.

  “I don’t work at the manor,” he answered. “I mean, not like you think. I’m legal counsel for the manor—for the Mistress.”

  “Oh,” Alex sighed. “I thought . . . nevermind. Why didn’t you just say that the night we met?”

  “I guess I didn’t think you’d talk to me if you knew,” Michael grinned down at her. “People hate lawyers, you know?”

  That innocent “forgive me” look in his blue-gray eyes had an effect on her for some reason. She did forgive him, but now she’d be more careful what she said to him. He was no different than any other vampire.

  “Is she in some kind of trouble?” Alex asked as Michael exited the cage and she followed him back to the equipment booth. They took a table on the patio and he ordered two beers.

  “The Mistress is never in trouble,” Michael answered with a wink. “You should know that.”

  “Yeah,” Alex replied. “That was a dumb question. You were there for pleasure then?”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “Why would it?”

  They stared at each other as the waitress sat the beers down and smiled at Michael. She left with a glance at him over her shoulder and a sideways smirk at Alex.

  “Answer my question,” Michael broke the silence.

  “I did,” Alex replied as she tapped his glass with hers.

  “No, you didn’t.”

  She tried not to, but she smirked at him. “No, it doesn’t bother me. It does surprise me though.”

  “Why?” he asked before drinking half the beer in one swallow.

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “You don’t seem the type. You live a pretty comfortable life, especially if you work for the Mistress.”

  “So?”

  “So, you’re handsome, easygoing. Why pay for what you can get freely?”

  Alex could see the slight blush on his cheeks. Then he emptied the glass and waved for another.

  “Nothing is ever free,” he hummed. “Especially the affections of a woman.”

  Alex adjusted herself in the uncomfortable plastic chair. “You’re not paying for affection.”

  “True,” Michael agreed, “but you have to admit I’m right.”

  “Maybe.”

  He thanked the waitress for the new beer. “What about you? Why were you there?”

  “Business.”

  “What kind of business?” he asked, his attention focused on her.

  “Personal,” she answered.

  Michael sat back and nodded with a serious look on his face. “Are you in trouble?”

  Alex grinned but didn’t answer.

  He wasn’t sure how to take her sexy grin and cryptic silence. If she had been any other human, he have would just compelled her to tell him what he wanted to know.

  He’d studied every piece of information he could get on the entire team. He knew what they were capable of and how to avoid an all-out confrontation with any Tracker. What he didn’t know was how she really fit in the scheme of things.

  As he sat across the small table from her, he could feel her power—the deep vibrations bouncing between them that set his senses on edge. Now he understood why Stavros wanted to keep her close. Her scent was so intoxicating and warm. Michael wanted more than anything to move closer, but he wouldn’t. He shook loose from the thought of tasting her blood as she tapped his foot with hers.

  “You okay?” she questioned with a bit of concern in her voice.

  “Yeah,” he chuckled nervously. “I’m just trying to figure you out, that’s all.”

  “What’s to figure out?” she shrugged.

  “The Mistress thinks highly of you,” Michael changed the subject.

  “I feel the same about her,” she smiled.

  “How’d you meet?”

  “Dark Ball.”

  Michael almost choked on the beer. “Sorry?”

  “We met at this important party, Dark Ball. You’ve never heard of it?”

  “I have,” he replied. “I’m just surprised you’ve been to one.”

  “Why?” she said before she emptied her glass. “Because I’m human?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  She laughed and he was pretty sure she meant it to sound condescending—and it did
.

  “Don’t be such a snob,” she said finally. “Pure-bloods are so arrogant about that stuff.” She shook her head at him with a playful look in her eyes. “I know how to act in proper society,” she stated with comedic emphasis on the word “proper.”

  “I’m not a snob,” Michael answered. He waved for the check. “And I’m sure you could fit in anywhere you wanted.” The waitress dropped the white paper on the table and thanked Michael for coming. She never even looked at Alex again. “How’d you know that I’m pure blood anyway?”

  “Easy,” she answered as they walked through the gate toward the parking lot. “That look on your face when I mentioned the Ball.”

  “What did you think of it?” Michael replied. “The Ball, I mean.”

  “Just a big, fancy room filled with hot air and old money,” she answered with a little laugh.

  “I guess you have been to one then,” he said with a chuckle. “Anybody I might know?”

  “Huh?”

  He laughed, “Your date.”

  “Oh,” she nodded. “Probably not.”

  “Vampire?”

  “Nope.”

  Michael drew the keys from his pocket and they gave off a jingling sound. “Important human? Figures.”

  Alex bumped him lightly. “Meaning?”

  “I’m not the only snob here,” he grinned as he returned the bump.

  “I’m not a snob,” she mocked him as best she could.

  As they approached his car, two big guys dressed in cargos, long sleeve t-shirts, and hard expressions stepped away from a pristine, white Chevy SUV parked on the right side of the almost empty lot. As one man raised his phone to his face, the other gave them a nod and a small salute. The pair passed them, and Michael felt her tension bump into his.

  Alex took Michael’s arm out of instinct, mostly. She wanted to let him know they might be in trouble and make the guys that had just turned back think they hadn’t noticed. A few feet from the car, one of them yelled.

  “Hey!”

  They stopped, looked at each other then turned around to face the men.

  “Yeah?” Michael answered.

  “Nice car,” the one said with a nod. “Must suck on gas though, huh?”