By Blood Sworn

by Jones, Janice

  “I ran out of ideas,” Alex smiled at her phone. “Sorry.”

  A sharp blast of cold air hit them as the main doors opened wide. Today, even with the sun playing hide-and-go-seek in the clouds, winter in Romania was full steam ahead. Later, the forecast called for light snow. Three black SUVs waited as exhaust puffed from their tailpipes. The driver of the middle vehicle held the back door open.

  “Amy, Erin, Kai, and Sebastian are with you,” she told Jason as he tossed his briefcase inside. “We’ll be right behind you.”

  Jason stepped close, his right shoulder butted up to hers. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  “Maybe later, Mr. Stavros,” she answered. “Right now, we have a schedule to keep. Get in.”

  She didn’t wait for him to say another word. A gentle nudge toward the truck and she heard him sigh as he climbed inside, Amy on one side, Erin the other. Sebastian took the wheel and Kai was shotgun.

  When she turned, Adam had already situated himself in the last truck. David pecked away on his tablet in the front passenger seat and Xavier tapped on the steering wheel as they waited for her. Alex shook her head and climbed in back behind Xavier.

  A huge silence settled over the entire group inside the SUV. Normally, it wouldn’t have bothered her. The less said the better, but for some reason Adam’s hum touched her skin like sandpaper.

  It was the hum of his life-force and it was awfully strong this morning. Maybe because they were mere inches from each other. Or maybe he’d just fed before they came down. Whatever the reason, they couldn’t get to their destination fast enough for Alex.

  “So are you excited?” Adam said out of nowhere. It startled all of them.

  “It’s just a job,” Alex replied. “I’ve done lots of these.”

  Adam chuckled as his meaty finger tapped the screen of his tablet. “I meant the party tonight.”

  “Oh, sure,” Alex answered as she checked her phone again.

  “As I understand it, Esmeralda and Morgan are your oldest friends. I would think you’d be happy to at least see them, wouldn’t you?”

  Alex cut him a sideways glance. His eyes stayed glued to the tablet.

  “I am, but that’s not the priority right now,” she replied.

  “Good,” Adam actually smiled, put the tablet away, and turned slightly in the seat to look at her. “I was hoping you’d say that. To be honest, I didn’t have much confidence in your ability to focus on the job. I’ve always found humans to be easily distracted.” He turned forward again.

  Xavier’s eyes, reflected in the rearview, clouded with anger. David’s posture was rigid. Alex remained calm and relaxed. Adam wanted to rile them, all of them, but Alex had expected that.

  “Me too,” she grinned at him. “But, lucky for you, we’re here. So relax, Adam. You’re in good hands—mine.”

  A full, deep rumble of laughter almost rattled the windows. Adam’s broad shoulders shook for the few minutes it took the caravan to reach their destination. At the fountain that separated the entrance from the exit, they went right, circled around the grassy knoll, and stopped at the white stones steps that would take them inside the Palace of the Parliament.

  Chapter 18

  The approach to the seat of Romanian government was uneventful, and Jason was glad. At the second largest administrative building in the world, the white stone steps and columns welcomed the caravan. Plush, red carpet led to the very top step and the front door.

  Jason felt his pulse quicken at the sight. All this pomp and circumstance was for him. From the red carpet to the military guards who stood at attention when he exited the vehicle, everyone was here for him. Even if it was at Conner’s request, he was center of the vampire world right now, and he loved it.

  Alex sent his official bodyguards ahead. She wanted her team to walk him in, past the press corps that was allowed to film and photograph the first-day festivities. Although none of this would air on the mainstream news, it would appear in every newspaper, newsfeed, and entertainment show owned, operated, and broadcast by the supernatural world. This was easily the most exciting thing that had ever happened in the supernatural community. Jason was about to make supernatural history.

  “Binevenit (welcome),” an older gentleman greeted Jason. He shook his hand, then kissed his signet ring out of respect. “Please to follow me.”

  He made a big flourish with his hand toward the stone stairs. With Alex and her team behind them, they climbed the carpet-covered steps, and the man spoke about the architecture and history of their kind in Romania.

  “We are sorry the castle was not available,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “It was the oddest thing, the fire. But Mr. Gale’s generosity will help to restore it in no time. Please give him our sincere appreciation.”

  “Voi Sire (I will, Sire),” Jason answered in perfect Romanian. He’d practiced that simple response on the drive over. Although vampires could learn quickly, he was never good with languages other than Greek and English.

  They entered the main hall to the sound of violin music as it settled down from above them. The new leather of his shoe soles barely squeaked as they moved over the slick marble floors, which had been polished to a high shine. True to all the pictures he’d seen of the grand staircase, it rose in front of them covered in a thick, deep red carpet.

  With Alex and Xavier at his Jason’s side, the others climbed the first flight of stairs, turned, and waited for them to ascend. In their black combat uniforms, the second skin they wore under their jackets matched the carpet perfectly. Wild flashes from the paparazzi would have blinded them in the dim light of the foyer, but they also wore dark glasses.

  “Can you believe this?” Kai mumbled out of the side of his mouth. As the photographers and reporters snapped pictures and yelled questions at them, they stayed focused—as Alex expected. They were working after all.

  “Yeah, this place is pretty awesome,” Amy chirped next to him. “It must be pretty ancient.”

  “It was actually opened in 1997,” David announced as he gave the press corps a small wave. “It has twelve floors above ground and eight below. One of the them is big enough to house a partial government in case of nuclear attack. Oh, and it is the heaviest building in the world.”

  They all looked at him, then laughed.

  “Thanks for the Wiki, Sheldon,” Kai cracked then laughed again.

  “Shut up,” David chuckled as he elbowed his twin.

  Who could have imagined this scene as it unfolded in front of her? Alex let her eyes scan the filled conference room from corner to corner as she walked slowly around its perimeter. Representatives from supernatural communities all over the world were seated in a conference room, much like a United Nations assembly. Alex’s brain processed the sight with fear—not fear for anyone’s safety at the moment but for her own in the not too distant future.

  These beings were debating whether or not to bring credence to all of humanity’s fears one day soon. How long would it be before her secret came out if theirs did? Where would she fit in then?

  “You may think your request is simple—benign,” a little round woman with stringy red hair mused at Jason, “but it isn’t.”

  From her seat in the second row in front of Jason’s seat, her very Irish accent struck Alex as odd. Ms. Clayton’s diction felt overly pronounced, like she didn’t want to make a grammatical mistake and appear uneducated to the rest of the representatives.

  “We are a small clan, Mr. Stavros. Your reach and influence is global; ours is not. And we like it that way. Our arrangements,” she took a sip of water, “are hundreds of years old. We don’t wish to rock the boat, so to speak.”

  Jason stood and casually slipped out of his jacket. As he laid it over the back of his leather chair, he smiled at Ms. Clayton.

  “We do understand that, Ms. Clayton,” he replied. “No one is
asking you to ‘rock’ anything—just to consider the possibility that we may be asked to renegotiate our deals.”

  The name card indicated Ms. Rowena Clayton was from County Cork, Ireland, Eastern Region, whatever that meant. She also represented the Clayton Clan. Her neat, dull-gray suit was in stark contrast to the shock of red hair that framed her round head.

  “Our goal,” Jason continued, “is to make that as painless as possible—for everyone. We are willing to bring your community under our umbrella of protection, if you wish.”

  Ms. Clayton shared a table with one Mortimer Gentry, London, Bromhall Clan. She sat when he stood, as if on a counterweight. His bushy eyebrows and weathered expression gave Alex the impression that he was less than pleased with everything going on right now.

  “What would we need protection from?” he barked in a large full voice. “Like the House of Clayton, our agreements have served us well. No one has asked for a new agreement.”

  Jason turned his full attention to him. Alex figured that was his intention—to get the entire proceeding focused on him.

  “The humans, at this very moment, are discussing this matter just as we are discussing it now,” Jason replied. “Someone means to expose all of us, Mortimer. If we can’t help stop this threat, we will need to be ready for whatever comes next.”

  Now it started to make sense. The signal for the video conference with Dr. Carlisle came from a Pentagon line. Most of the rooms in the Pentagon had been remodeled after 911, but not the one he was in this morning. She no longer wondered why the Trackers were here and not on some bullshit assignment right now. All the human bigwigs were in the most fortified building in the world. Who needs fancy bodyguards when you have that?

  Everyone was figuratively running scared. The Council of Pure Blood Vampires wanted what information Tristan possessed. They weren’t going to let the Trackers just give him back to Dr. Carlisle to keep experimenting on—not without a fight. Alex knew a fight like that would spill out into the real world eventually. Her stomach flipped at the thought.

  Dr. Carlisle wanted answers that weren’t in Tristan’s head. Whatever he was looking for had to be inside his body. Why else would he keep him for so long? She could only imagine what her father had been up to all this time.

  Tristan was valuable to both sides, and he knew it. He was just arrogant enough to auction himself off to the highest bidder.

  Alex searched her brain for someone she might still know on the inside, someone who was part of the Pentagon meeting or close enough to it that she could get something to help her. Whatever the Council thought was being discussed, they were way off. That could work to her advantage. Being here could actually give her time to build a case against Tristan Ambrose.

  She turned her attention back to the meeting when Mortimer cleared his throat. Mortimer pulled absently at his waistcoat of rich emerald silk. It fit his bulky frame nicely, Alex noted. His style, reflective of the late nineteenth century, reminded Alex of a stuffy banker or railroad man from an old movie. Everything about him, from his dark suit and tie to his white starched shirt and perfect leather shoes, reminded her that he was from another time. One end of a gold chain, attached to the center button of the vest, disappeared inside a watch-sized pocket on the right side. She was sure the timepiece would be as old as he was.

  “And how can we trust these humans?” Mortimer murmured in a polished British accent. “How do we know this isn’t their doing? A way to squeeze even more from our ailing coffers?”

  “It’s not,” Jason answered with a bit of irritation in his voice. “The covenant is still in effect. This threat is not coming from the humans.”

  Mortimer took his handkerchief out and dabbed at his brow. “How can you be sure?”

  As Jason loosened his tie, he kept a calm expression. Alex felt her temper burn at Mortimer’s insinuation.

  “Our investigation has led us in a different direction, Mortimer,” he answered. “Right now, we know one thing for sure.”

  “And what is that?” Mortimer asked with a surprised expression.

  “This threat is inside our community,” he answered.

  A hum of whispers filled the chamber among the representatives as well as the onlookers. Jason turned, picked up the white mug, and took a sip as he locked eyes with Adam.

  Alex’s heart fluttered in her chest and her palm began to itch. Jason had just baited the hook. It was up to the Tracker team to reel in the catch.

  As Jason tried to bring everyone back to order, Erin slipped quietly through the door. She nodded in Alex’s direction and was allowed inside. Alex met her halfway.

  The slip of paper Erin handed her was folded neatly. She opened it then looked up at Erin who nodded as Alex folded the paper once more.

  “We’ll be right out,” Alex said.

  As Erin exited, Alex noticed her glance in the direction of the Warren delegates—more specifically, the young warlock they’d all met at this morning’s meet and greet. Their exchange had seemed familiar. That struck Alex as strange; Esmeralda introduced him as her new protégé. When she disappeared through the door, the warlock’s eyes followed her until it closed. Then he grinned at his feet.

  Chapter 19

  Jason felt her hand on his right shoulder as the slip of paper came over his left. The note had three words on it: “Coop is alive.”

  “Are you sure about this?” he said in a low tone.

  “Not yet,” Alex replied. “They have the vid ready outside.”

  He looked up to see Nikki and Adam at the side exit staring at their exchange. Nikki left the room as Adam made his way over to them again.

  Jason stood and let Alex help him with his jacket. He tapped the water glass with his pen.

  “I think we should take lunch early,” he announced politely. “How about we meet back here in two hours?”

  The wave of relief that sailed around the room washed over Jason. Everyone was tense. They’d been meeting for five hours with no breaks. Even Jason felt tired and in need of some fresh air.

  As he and Alex exited the room, he let her lead him through the crowd headed to the commissary. They reached her team huddled in the far corner of the courtyard, lined up like good little children. Erin held the tablet out to her.

  “This just showed up in a secured vid box,” she stated as Alex tapped the screen to start the playback.

  Over Alex’s shoulder, Jason watched the scene unfold. The cold winter wind pushed the smell of Alex’s excitement, intertwined with her natural scent, into his face.

  From the slight movement of the video, he could tell it was shot by a handheld device. Jason watched as two men walked at an easy pace away from the camera. Overhead, electronic boards displayed flight information and people stared up as they rushed in all directions through LAX.

  A few short minutes later, the two men stopped at an international gate that displayed a flight to France. The date was two days before Jason and the team had boarded their own flight. From the profile, both Jason and Alex knew it was Coop. His curly locks looked even curlier now that he was turned. As Coop’s full lips moved, his companion grinned with his hands in his pockets. Tailored and gray, the suit his companion wore fit like a glove. His height gave him a more sophisticated appearance.

  “Who’s the suit?” Alex asked no one in particular.

  “Erin ran facial rec when he faced the camera,” Sebastian replied. “His name is Brice Campbell.”

  “We pick him up yet?” she said as she continued to watch.

  Jason picked up on her anger and backed up just a bit. For some reason, it stung him all over.

  “For what?” Erin smirked.

  “That’s the second time his name has come up, or have you forgotten?” Alex answered with a smirk of her own. “He’s connected to this. Have him picked up.”

  The men hugged, then Coop walked
away. Brice faced the camera and smiled. Then the screen went black.

  “On what charge?” Xavier joined the conversation. “Giving a dead guy a ride to the airport?”

  Alex spun around and stepped into his personal space. “Did he look dead to you?”

  Erin cleared her throat. “Only Coop boarded the flight—under an old alias. Brice Campbell is still on US soil.”

  “Brice Campbell just moved to the top of our shit list,” Alex announced. “Bring him in.”

  Jason followed as she crossed the courtyard toward the commissary tent. He pulled her to a stop at the entrance.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Alex gently pulled her elbow from his grip. “Coop’s here and God only knows what he was able to do before we got here. He has to be found.”

  “Then we will find him,” Jason whispered.

  They entered the noisy tent and Jason waited for her to get a cup of tea before he led her to a table in a quiet corner. He could see Adam across the tent. He looked to be in a very intense conversation with Mortimer.

  “Brice is working for someone,” Alex began in a low tone. “Maybe whoever turned Coop. We pick him up, sweat him—he’ll tell us what he knows.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  She looked up from her hot tea with a frown on her face. “He’ll tell me.”

  “You can’t go cracking skulls like the old days, Alex,” Jason grinned. “If he’s the middleman, wouldn’t it be better to let him lead us to his boss?”

  Her hands wrapped around the ceramic mug as she blew over the hot liquid. When she nodded her agreement, Jason let out a sigh.

  “Good,” he smiled as he stood and buttoned his jacket again. “We need to talk.”

  She pushed the mug away, looked up at him. “Talk.”

  Jason stepped in front of the small table she sat at and leaned over. “Not here. Tonight? Dinner?”

  “I can’t,” she shook her head then sipped the tea. “The solstice thing is tonight, remember?”