“Careful,” he had said as she stared coldly at him. He grinned at her. She didn’t return it. “Little girls should play with dolls . . . not monsters.”
He could almost see the grin she held back. Something in the way she blinked gave him the distinct impression she’d been told she would win.
“This girl doesn’t play with dolls or monsters,” she had replied as her sinister grin emerged.
He remembered clearly that look of determination on her bloody, but still innocent looking face. Even in the golden glow of the torch-lit vault, Tristan admired her natural brown skin, made darker by the desert sun. He wondered what strange twist of fate brought a child to this place to capture a creature such as him.
At a time like that, usually a human’s thoughts were erratic, confused. Some spoke to a deity of some kind; they prayed for mercy or strength or both. But not her. This little girl said no prayer—didn’t ask for mercy. To Tristan’s surprise, a tune had played in her head. At the time, he had no idea what it was, but later, in the lab of death, he heard it play over and over and over again.
“What is that song?” he had asked her.
At first she was confused, angry at his intrusion. “Get out of my head!”
When the sharp stab of pain shot through his right temple, Tristan was surprised at first. The tune stopped because she had pushed him from her mind. He took a step forward. She took two back.
“How did you do that?”
“Magic.”
Tristan tried to remember what came next, but it slipped away like smoke through his fingers. The harder he tried to hold on to the memory, the further away it retreated. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t remember why Alex Stone was still alive after their encounter.
He needed to find the pieces of his faded memory. How could some be so clear and others too hazy to grasp? Why, of all his memories of that day, had the ones of Alex remained the most hazy and formless of them all?
Returning to his dimly-lit bedroom, he noticed a tiny red light blinking on the smartphone he had left on his nightstand. Giselle had explained that this light meant he’d either missed a call or a text. As he dropped his robe, he pressed the button to see which one.
It was a text from Coop’s little fly on the wall. Take-off was successful and, besides Alex’s little skirmish in the parking lot, uneventful. So disappointing, Tristan thought. He had hoped Alex would have been hurt too seriously for them to leave the country, but no such luck. Apparently, she was much tougher than she looked. His attempt to keep her on the ground had failed. Tristan tossed the phone on the bed then headed for the hot shower.
In the foggy stall, under the hot cascade of water, he reviewed the video in his mind. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of her own blood. She moved with the confidence of a seasoned killer. But something had given her pause, if only for a few seconds—a physical reaction to something other than being skipped across the gravel like a stone over the surface of a placid lake.
Refreshed from his shower, at the mirror he dried and styled his dark hair and brushed his perfect new teeth. Once dressed, his phone pinged in the breast pocket of his jacket on his way downstairs. This time there was a video message from the fly.
Fiona, his dutiful maid, placed a hot cup of coffee to his left and a vial of fresh blood to his right as he sat down at the table. When she placed the electronic tablet next to the cup, he brought it to life, tapped the screen, and found the video.
The mole sat in front of the computer screen in a pale pink tank and matching panties. When she propped her foot on the chair, her mocha colored leg glowed in the light of the machine. Her stringy wet hair was slicked back from her face. Beautiful, young, and evil as the day was long, Erin Sinclair, a.k.a. the fly, took a deep breath and grinned at the camera.
“Whoever you are,” she purred, “I hope your pockets are as deep as Coop says because this is gonna cost you.”
Tristan took a sip of coffee then frowned at the taste. He’d forgotten to flavor it. As he poured a bit of the blood into the hot liquid, Erin continued.
“I have some interesting news,” she said, caressing her wet thigh as she sat back in the chair. “It’s about Alex Stone.”
A number crawled along the bottom of the screen. Tristan laughed as he committed the bank account number to memory along with the price tag that followed it.
“It seems that Ms. Stone is still on the supplement,” she grinned, “according to her fanboy Sebastian anyway.” Erin exaggerated a yawn then smiled at the camera. “Or she could still be nuts.”
“Silly little girl,” he chuckled as he took another sip of coffee.
“So,” she purred then dropped her leg down again, “if you want more info, you know what to do. Once the funds have been secured, I’ll send you the information. Tell Coop I said hi.”
A second after her demand, the video dissolved. He was sure there was no way to retrieve it for later.
“Should I pay her?” he questioned Fiona as she refreshed his coffee.
“For what?” she groaned. “The secondhand information or the show?”
Tristan laughed again, shook his head at Fiona’s obvious disapproval. She was old school. In her day, women may have been much more discreet when it came to business, but he had never known Fiona to go to such lengths to get what she wanted from anyone.
Then again, today’s technology makes the whole negotiating business more impersonal, doesn’t it? You can make demands from miles away with the tap of a screen. Morals seem much more fluid now too. For the right price, a young woman, or man for that matter, will sit in front of a computer and do just about anything. They call it being free, unencumbered by the restrictions of society. Tristan called it a new form of slavery—technological slavery, but slavery nonetheless.
“I think she believes you to be like all men,” Fiona continued. “Guided by the carnal and obscene. I hope you will not be swayed by a barely dressed girl making demands at a computer screen. I would hope you would stay focused on your goal.”
“Well, I hope she’s not lying about the information,” he replied. “That’s a lot of money for a lie. I would hate having to kill such a talented girl over that.”
“That’s not talent,” Fiona huffed. “It’s her feeble attempt at trying to play in the big leagues with the only real weapon she has.”
“Do you understand what it means if Alex Stone is still on those pills?” Tristan posed the question even though he knew Fiona couldn’t care less. “It would mean the good doctor was a success after all. It would mean she is the key.”
“The key to what, exactly?” Fiona asked. “You don’t even remember what happened in that tomb, Tristan. For all we know, this is all just lies dressed up as truth to give you a false sense of security. Forget about Alex Stone for now. Focus on rebuilding your clan first.”
“If what this girl says is true, the only way for me to build a clan strong enough to take over is with Alex Stone at my side.”
He heard the low growl come from Fiona, followed by a hint of anger in the air.
“A child like that cannot be trusted,” she hissed as she dropped down into the chair across from him. Her blue eyes turned a muddy black as her anger grew. Her worn hands lay one on top of the other on the table.
“You may be underestimating her, Fiona,” Tristan grinned. “I know you find her methods distasteful, but she has managed to keep her true mission hidden all this time.”
As her short nails grew to fine long points, Tristan could smell her blood in the air. Now he knew it was her blood in the vial that flavored his coffee.
“And you may be letting something else override your better judgment,” she quipped. “You were always prone to weaknesses of the flesh, but this is not the time for childish machinations. I taught you better than that.”
Tristan took one more sip of coffee then pushed the cup
away. As he savored the taste of coffee and her blood, he stared at the dark screen of the tablet on the table. Fiona had told him early on that humans will do anything to get what they want, which included sexual favors of any kind. Although he enjoyed human women from time to time, he much preferred his own kind.
He glanced up to see Fiona waiting patiently for his reply. No doubt, from his silence, she thought she’d put him in his place as if he was still a child. She was usually very agreeable, but, for some reason, this time was different. It couldn’t be that she didn’t like Erin or any human, for that matter. It was something much deeper, he imagined.
“You also taught me never to let anyone disrespect me or my authority,” he said slowly, “including you. I know you love me, but don’t ever forget your place again.”
The long, razor points of her nails disappeared as she retracted them. After she wiped her bloody fingertips on a paper napkin, she balled it up in her trembling hand.
“Of course, Sire,” she whispered with a slight bow of her head.
“If she has information I can use against Alex Stone, then the money will be worth it,” he continued.
She gave him a quick nod then rose from her chair. As she passed him, she took his cup of cold coffee with her to the sink. Once she rinsed and dried the cup, she placed it in the cabinet over her head.
Behind him, she waited in silence. Tristan stood, buttoned his jacket, then picked up the tablet. When he stopped in front of Fiona, she straightened his tie with steady hands.
“Thank you,” he said with a small kiss to her pale cheek. “I have plans for dinner, so don’t wait up.”
Fiona gave him another nod and kept pace with him as he made his way to the front door. He could still smell her anger. Fiona had never been afraid of him. When he was a boy, she was the one who had taught him to hunt. She taught him why it was important to choose his donors carefully. Her stories of when vampires ruled where his favorite at bedtime. His dreams were always wild from her tales of blood and victory. He admired her, to be honest.
His driver held the back door of the SUV open, eyes locked on Fiona for some reason. Tristan handed him the briefcase and the tablet, which he put on the backseat.
“I love you, Auntie,” Tristan said when he turned back to her, “with all my heart. But if you ever speak to me that way again, I will kill you.”
“Of course, nephew,” she glared up at him with fire in her blue eyes. She looked as if she wanted to take his head—like any good predator would have under the same circumstances. “I would expect nothing less of you.”
“Who do you belong to?” Dr. Carlisle whispered to himself. Standing between the two corpses, he felt tired and frustrated. “Better yet, who gave you my drug?”
After the autopsies, he’d save some tissue samples then burn the rest, he supposed. As he dropped a sheet over the face of one, he closed his notebook and turned off the recorder. The other could wait until after dinner. He’d had enough.
He discarded the soiled gloves and surgical gown in the proper containers, then washed his hands in the nearby sink. If he didn’t hurry, he’d be late for his meeting with Ivy. She’d flown in as soon as Alex left Vegas last night.
Her genuine concern for Alex’s safety was sweet, but ultimately misplaced. Ivy had grown too fond of Alex over this assignment. He thought he should replace her, but it was far too late now. For now, she was the closest person to Alex and Dr. Carlisle had to leave her there. Soon, Ivy’s involvement with Mason Creed and her real reason for being in Alex’s life would come out. Then Alex would probably bury them together for their betrayal.
Now wasn’t the time for regret. Dr. Carlisle took a quick shower and dressed. On his way out the door, Ivy’s text asked where he was. “On my way,” he answered as he hustled to his car and waved at the guards on his way off the base.
Coop tried to understand all the science shit Tristan rattled off to whoever was on the phone, but he was never interested in that kind of stuff. He didn’t have to be. But he sometimes wished he’d paid more attention in chemistry class back in the day.
Tristan kept saying things about genetic markers and DNA strands, and how he was unique and worth more alive than dead. Coop lost interest after a while. The conversation went on almost the entire trip to the airport. His brain drifted between the plan and what came after. The plan was to eliminate the entire team, all but Alex and Erin that is. What came after was money beyond anything he’d earned in a lifetime of service to his country. And life eternal. That was really the point of all the backdoor deals, wasn’t it? In the new world, vampires would be on top again. Now that he was a vampire, that included him.
The Council wouldn’t know what hit them when Tristan said the word. All those loyal subjects Conner Gale thought he had would turn on him and his family at Tristan’s command. He could always choose to side with Tristan, but Coop knew that wouldn’t happen. Conner was way too arrogant and comfortable at the top rung of the vampire elite. No way he would just hand over the reins to Tristan. Coop couldn’t wait for that title fight.
“Everything will be inside the men’s room on the ground floor. Any questions?” Tristan’s voice interrupted Coop’s musing.
“Not really, no.”
“Oh come on,” Tristan smiled at him. “I know you want to ask.”
Coop turned slightly in the seat to look him in the eyes. He chose his words carefully.
“It’s Alex you want. Why does everyone else have to die? They’re good kids; great agents. They could be very useful to us once you take charge of the Council.”
Tristan’s smile sank into a savage grimace. The look in his eyes—soulless.
“They won’t understand. And they won’t betray their country or her, not now. You should have thought about that before you made the deal. You asked for the girl. I let you have her, but the others are expendable.”
“What’s so special about Alex?” Coop hummed. “So what? She can tolerate the supplements better than any other female—big deal. How does that help us?”
Tristan seemed to be contemplating the question. “I’m not sure yet. But she isn’t just tolerating those supplements, she’s thriving on them. Better than any one of you ever did! Don’t be so shortsighted, Mr. Cooper. There’s a much bigger picture here and she fits into it. I just have to find out how.”
Coop grinned at him. It was not going to be as easy as Tristan seemed to think it would be to get Alex on their side. In fact, she wouldn’t be on their side at all. Not without a very good reason to flip like that.
“I know Alex,” he said to Tristan. “She likes this team now. If we take them, she’ll come for them—I’m sure of it.”
“How sure?” Tristan purred as he leaned close to Coop. His icy smirk gave Coop the chills. “Sure enough to stake your own life on it?”
He shook his head. Every day since the day he was turned, Coop was grateful to Tristan for the gift. He’d just had his first taste of human blood a few days ago. Nothing could have prepared him for how it felt. The smell of his donor’s fear was fantastic. The way that chemical reaction gave her blood a spicy after-bite—that taste was embedded in every fiber of his being: sweet, warm, and fresh. He wasn’t ready to give that up just yet, if at all.
“I didn’t think so,” Tristan chuckled as he faced forward again.
“Had to at least try, didn’t I?” Coop replied as he did the same.
Chapter 15
Not even the sun could make thirty degrees feel like fifty today. But Alex and her team would be nice and toasty in their next-gen uniforms.
In stark contrast to Jason’s usual security team in dark suits and even darker expressions, their first official sighting with him would be in winter white, leather jackets and pants made from the new fabric, complemented by deep wine-colored, form-fitted crew neck shirts underneath.
As they crossed the t
armac at La Rochelle Airport, Jason and Adam were dead center flanked by the Tracker team. Adam and Jason’s usual personal security walked a few feet behind, scanning the perimeter. When they reached the line of black SUVs, Alex held Jason and Adam back as each car was checked again, underneath and inside. They didn’t need any surprises here—not after everything that had happened over the last few weeks.
The last-minute change from Paris to La Rochelle made her uneasy. Adam seemed a little on edge too. But Adelaide had business here the night before and stayed, so here they were. Good news—they wouldn’t have to stay overnight after all.
“Combien de temps a la maison (how far to the house)?” she said to the driver.
He looked surprised that she spoke French. “Environ sept milles (about seven miles).” He opened the door and she nodded to Adam and Jason to get inside.
“Merci.”
With Sebastian and Xavier with Jason, she took the rest of the team with her in the lead car. As they rolled away, she checked to make sure the com devices were working.
“You guys stay sharp,” she said. The two-way devices made it possible for them to speak to each other as if they were standing together. “The change couldn’t be helped, so the route wasn’t checked properly.”
“Got it,” Xavier replied.
She wanted to relax, but that was not a good way to keep anyone alive. As the countryside rolled past, Alex reminded herself they had done this before too.
The trip to Adelaide’s winery was picturesque to say the least. The whole place looked like a postcard. Spindly trees lined both sides of the road they traveled. In the distance, small farmhouses dotted the landscape. She could only imagine what this would be like in summer and full bloom.
The big white estate rose ahead of them. Adelaide Margot’s winery was suspended in time, almost. If not for the satellite dish in the far pasture, it would have been perfect. Adelaide and her staff waited in the arched entryway as they pulled up to the main house. Alex’s car stopped in the curve of the circular drive to put Jason in front of Adelaide.
By Blood Sworn Page 15