By Blood Sworn

by Jones, Janice

“I forgot,” he replied as he forced a smile. He didn’t want her to see his disappointment. “Have fun. See you back in the chamber.”

  She just nodded, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Jason joined Adam on the other side of the room. His back was to Alex for a reason. Adam just grinned as he continued to read the documents in his hand.

  “Where’s Nikki?” Jason asked half-heartedly. He didn’t really care.

  “She said she left something at the hotel,” he answered. “She’ll be back shortly.”

  “Did she go alone?” he asked, suddenly interested in the answer.

  “No,” Adam answered. “I sent Peter with her. Relax.”

  With her back against the far wall of her private suite, Peter swallowed a mouthful of Nikki’s spicy blood then finished satisfying his boss’s soon to be wife. Nikki licked at his bloody earlobe and sighed as she came down again.

  After they were done, he zipped up and excused himself with a bow and a breathless “Sire,” to her. The bathroom door closed as her phone buzzed.

  “Yes,” she said to her reflection in the mirror.

  “Are you alright?” Jason’s voice spiked anger in Nikki—ruining her afternoon quickie just like that.

  “Of course,” she giggled as she fixed her lipstick and smoothed down her hair. “Worried about me, lover?”

  Jason chuckled. “I was more worried about Peter. Make sure he’s presentable before you return him to me.”

  Nikki glared at her own reflection. “Don’t worry, darling,” she purred sweetly. “He’ll be just perfect when we return—so will I, by the way.”

  “Good. You have twenty minutes, sweetheart,” he replied. “Tick, tock.”

  He was gone before she could curse him. Peter appeared refreshed and grinning from ear-to-ear. She stepped up to him and pecked him sweetly on the cheek.

  “Bring the car around,” she stated. “I’ll be right down.”

  Peter backed away with a smile. “Sire.”

  Nikki took her time making herself presentable. She picked up her briefcase, checked her makeup one last time, then left the room.

  The elevator didn’t stop on its way to the lobby. As she stepped off, she felt a quick wave of something that felt like desire hit her skin. She didn’t stop to see where it came from. Instead, she picked up the pace and practically jumped through the sliding glass doors to the outside. There, Peter waited with the backdoor open wide.

  “Something wrong, Sire?” he asked as he took her briefcase and helped her inside.

  “No,” she answered. “Thank you.”

  As the truck pulled away from the entrance, Nikki forced herself not to look back. It was probably nothing anyway—just some horny little newbie who hadn’t been told not to troll the lobby for a fresh meal. Or maybe it was just some residual vibe from Peter. He could be insatiable that way. He probably liked the fact that he could brag about doing the boss’s fiancé most of all. Why did it matter? Jason couldn’t care less who or what she did, if she was discreet. The way he thought he had been with Alex. Nikki tapped her sharp nail on the handle of her briefcase.

  As much as she wanted to drop Alex in the “just another human” category, Nikki knew she didn’t belong there. Jason’s initial attraction to her unnerved Nikki, if she was being honest with herself. He’d never had such a hunger for a human woman before. But that fire seemed to have dimmed just a bit. Maybe the time apart and the wedding plans had knocked some sense into him. Nikki straightened her posture then pulled a small black velvet box from her bag.

  He’d gotten it in her luggage somehow. She had found it as she unpacked at the hotel. It was the exact ring she had asked for—right down to the pink diamond center stone. His note simply read “For You.” The hinged lid opened with a soft creak. Nikki felt her heart jump at the sight of her engagement ring.

  The center stone—a 5.15 carat pink diamond—bounced the natural light back in her face. Its 18 karat rose gold and platinum band consisted of 103 small round diamonds that lined both sides and around the center stone.

  Beautiful is too small a word, she thought as she eased it over her ring finger. Jason wouldn’t do the honors in front of everyone at the conference, of that she was sure.

  “Oh, what the hell,” she smiled at the ring as it sat on her finger.

  Jason knew what looked good on her, as always. No need to have it sized. It fit perfectly. With this ring on her finger, it felt real. For the last few months her free time had been filled with caterers and bakers, reception halls and dress hunts. All the while, she wondered how long it would take for Jason to actually make it official, and now that day was here. Then she paused.

  “If I embarrassed him like this, he’d kill me,” she sighed then slid the ring from her finger and placed it carefully back in the black velvet box. It pained her to put the ring back in her bag, but she did.

  “Were you talking to me, Sire?” Peter asked as they approached the Palace of Parliament once again.

  “No, sorry,” she replied. “Just going over some notes.”

  He gave a slight nod as traffic at the entrance slowed in front of them. Everyone returned from lunch at the same time it seemed. Once they passed the fountain, it took no time at all until they reached the front entrance. Peter helped her from the back of the SUV. Another guard arrived to escort her back to the meeting hall as Peter parked the truck in the designated space.

  “Don’t let the pretty face fool ya,” Coop said when he noticed his blood junkie backup drool over the sight of Nikki as she sauntered through the lobby.

  She moved on six-inch heels like she walked a wire with no fear of falling.

  She covers pretty good, Coop thought. Even he could feel the creepy lust oozing from his partner as she made her way to the exit.

  “What do you think our sire will do with her once she’s served her purpose?” he moaned and licked his lips. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. “Do you think I could have her for a while? I’ll bet her blood . . .” he stopped to lick his lips again. Coop felt like his stomach just turned inside out.

  “Really? Get a grip, you little freak,” he growled.

  His companion’s nervous energy disturbed Coop’s calm. That tightly wound vibe sprang from him and spread over Coop like ants. Tristan told him he’d be much more sensitive to human vibrations, but this junkie vampire’s were almost unbearable.

  When he focused hard, it eased, but only slightly. If he wasn’t careful, this guy would be dead by sundown. For half a second, Coop thought that might not be a bad idea. He could just drain him dry—blame it on someone else. Tristan would never know. Then he decided against that plan. He knew who he wanted his next meal to be, and it wasn’t some trashy blood whore jonesing for his next bite.

  “Should we follow?” he whispered as he bounced slightly in his chair, risking drawing attention in the hotel lobby. With Alex and the team still occupied at the conference, nobody would recognize him, but there was no need to tempt fate.

  “No,” Coop answered with a shake of his head. “She felt your . . . whatever that was. If we follow, she’ll get spooked and give my,” he growled low, “her team the heads up. We need them to not see us coming, okay?”

  He nodded absently as he continued to bounce. To Coop, the long plastic tube the junkie pulled from his pack looked like one of those yogurt things for kids. After it was empty, he balled up the tube and stuffed it back in his pack. The smell of fresh blood used to creep Coop out, but now it smelled like a Porterhouse, medium-well, with a baked potato.

  It seemed long enough now. Coop stood, blood junkie at his side, and made his way outside. Behind the wheel of his rented BMW, Coop took a right off hotel property at a leisurely pace. Nikki’s car had been tagged. A red dot blinked on the handheld as they drove in the direction of the super-secret meetings.

  At least the scenery is nice, he thought as he
took it all in. Unfortunately, he wasn’t here to sightsee, even if everyone here looked at him like a tourist. He couldn’t pass as a local. Neither he nor Alex looked like anyone around them. Her advantage was she was part of Jason’s entourage. So tourist Coop it was. Except he wasn’t here for postcards and snow globes. His mission was to take a hostage and kill anyone who got in his way.

  He stayed a few cars behind them all the way to the Palace of Parliament. The traffic ahead slowed. Coop figured everyone had rushed back at the same time. As they passed the fountain, he saw Nikki’s SUV ease up to the front entrance in line with the other dignitaries. When her driver jumped from behind the wheel and opened her door, her long legs came out as her pale hand took his.

  Coop could see her shiny red nails scratch at his wrist and the small grin on his lips at her gesture. Their little secret was not lost on him.

  “So Nikki had a quickie for lunch,” Coop chuckled as he steered the car to the right where visitors had to park and presented paperwork to be cleared to enter the building.

  “What?” the junkie sniffed.

  “Nothing,” he replied. “Stay with the car. I’ll be right out.”

  In the parking space, the engine died as his companion exited the passenger side and slid in behind the wheel. Coop took a black leather briefcase from the back seat, put on dark sunglasses and made his way to the visitor checkpoint.

  If everything went as planned, and it had so far, the burly guard would allow him inside with a glance at his credentials and nod of his head. Tristan’s reach extended inside this facility and practically into Jason’s face.

  Coop fell in line with the other visitors as they made their way to the viewing gallery. These people were allowed inside because they represented smaller factions that had some interest in the outcome but no voting privileges. His credentials were the best forgery Tristan’s money could buy. He hummed a tune as he entered the building and followed the small group up a flight of stairs that led to the balcony in the back of the meeting hall.

  From here, he could see the entire room. Every voting delegate, the one assistant they were allowed, and their security teams were in clear view. As he made himself comfortable in the front row, he spotted Jason and Adam as they chatted at the table in the front of the room.

  “Big boy table, huh?” he whispered as he made a mental note of everything he saw for later, when he would return with help and take what he came here for.

  The tiny camera on his lapel recorded everything—an instant record of the proceedings as they played out in front of him. On the tiny screen built into his sunglasses he could zoom in on anyone in the room with a quick tap to the right side—zoom out with a tap to the left.

  Technology is grand, isn’t it? he thought.

  He had to laugh at how easy it was to get inside even though she had taken over his team. Just the thought of that made his blood boil. Then she walked in.

  Alex had an air of confidence he’d never seen on anyone, especially a woman. She could be larger than life or more shadow than substance depending on her mood. Despite everything, he had to admire the way she reinvented herself. Though she was still tethered to Strategic, she called her own shots—until now, that is. Now, she was bound by her stupid pride to protect a vampire. Coop smiled, reached up, and tapped the right side of his sunglasses and her face filled the small screen.

  She looked as she always did: cool but ready to strike. Coop found he admired that about her too. What would she think after this was all over? After she gave up that Dagger guy and Tristan either killed her, tortured her, or both at the same time? Would she beg for her life or would she just let it happen? Either way, she wasn’t strong enough to handle what Tristan had planned for her, not for long anyway. She’d give up the name. Then he’d take his time with her. Coop just hoped he’d get to taste her before she died. Tristan had promised him that.

  His new fangs ached to descend and his mouth watered at the thought. Little Miss Tough Girl reduced to a blood bag just for him. Her holier-than-thou attitude would disappear when he fed from her veins as she screamed and begged for mercy. He zoomed out again as the camera on his lapel continued to record the action. He wanted to watch her with his new eyes. Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks and faced the balcony.

  “Shooter,” she said as a new scent drew her attention up. “We’ve got a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?” Xavier answered.

  “Meet me at the balcony entrance now,” Alex replied.

  Everyone made their way back inside to take their seats once more. Jason and Adam stood next to the center table; Jason’s personal security was close by. Even Nikki was safe with two handsome accessories at her side.

  Alex’s eyes traveled from one end of the balcony to the other. The few invited onlookers were spread out around the upper seating. The head count should always be the same: ten. Six men and four women. Alex had memorized the face, fashion sense, and mannerisms of each person about five minutes into the first speech yesterday. Suddenly, there was now eleven.

  Just as she scanned from one end of the balcony and reached the opposite side, eleven had made his way up the stairs headed to the exit. The black man with a curly brown afro and a cocky stride disappeared down the exit ramp, as she signaled one of Jason’s guards.

  “I need to leave this room,” she told him. “Stay close to Mr. Stavros until I return.”

  “Is there a problem?” he asked. “Should we evacuate?”

  “No, just stay close.”

  She locked eyes with Jason briefly. Then she tapped the device in her ear.

  “Shooter, you read?”

  “Yeah. We’re headed for the balcony exit,” he said, his voice jumpy as if he were running.

  Alex trotted toward the exit doors. Outside, she ran toward her team; her boots squeaked on the polished marble floor. Just ahead, she saw Sebastian, Kai, and Amy. Then David, Xavier, and Erin came around the far corner. Xavier shook his head at them.

  “Nothing,” he huffed as he adjusted his weapon under his jacket.

  “We didn’t see anyone,” David added doing the same.

  “He’s here,” Alex said. Her heart thumped in her chest at the thought.

  Alex took a deep breath. His scent had changed, but there was still some hint of humanity for now. He was moving effortlessly fast through the building. He couldn’t do that by himself.

  “Parking lot,” she barked as she ran toward the guarded exit. The others were close behind her. “Did you see a man,” she asked the guards in her best Romanian, “like me, black man, leave through here?”

  One of the younger men nodded and pointed. As they ran through the exit door, she could hear him on the outdated walkie-talkie tell security in the parking area to stop any cars attempting to leave.

  On their way down the stone stairs, Alex barked for them to spread out. Each one of them drew a weapon and walked quickly through the cars—cautious, but ready. Nothing. Every car had official plates and drivers waiting to be called for pick up.

  Alex reached the guard shack before anyone else. The guards told her no one had attempted to leave in the last thirty minutes or more. She cursed in English, but they understood and grinned.

  “He’s gone,” she said as the team regrouped at the guard station. “He had help getting in and out. Shit! Let’s get back inside.”

  Back inside the building, Alex handed her black leather jacket to Amy then went to the ladies’ room. It was quiet and clean. The smell of cleanser and perfume filled the air. Harsh overhead lights gave her brown skin a strange tint. She splashed water on her face, dried it and her hands, and went back to the team.

  “Get me every video of this parking lot starting a week ago,” she said to Erin and David. “I want names and pictures of everyone on parking lot duty since last night. We’ll match them up after the party tonight. Understan
d?”

  “Yeah,” David replied. “We’re on it.”

  He tugged at Erin’s arm and they headed toward the main security room on the bottom floor of the building. They would get anything they asked for—anything.

  “Everyone else, keep making laps on this hall until I tell you to stop,” she hissed over her shoulder at them as she went back inside.

  Down in the bowels of one of Tristan’s many safe houses, he walked the dimly lit corridor alone. All the sounds and smells mixed together, making a hollow echo around him. The steel door creaked open and he stepped inside.

  She was perched on a neatly made bed brushing through her wet hair. Freshly showered, but woefully undernourished, Sasha looked up with a relieved grin on her bruised face. Had she fed properly, those bruises would have been long gone.

  “They starved you,” Tristan whispered as she stepped into his open arms and he stroked her hair. “It must have been horrible.”

  “It was agony, Sire,” she whimpered. “Rats! That’s all I had for two weeks. Sometimes, nothing at all.”

  He could smell the salt tears as they rolled down her face. When he pushed her back and placed his hand on her cheek, she leaned into his touch. Her once full frame was thinner than before. There was some color in her cheeks, but Tristan had left instructions to have her properly fed by the time he arrived. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was still not right about her.

  “Well,” he said as he stepped back to get a better look at her. “I’m just glad you were able to escape. I’m glad you’re home safe.”

  Sasha smiled as she sat back down on the bed. Her hands trembled as they rested in her lap. The silk robe she was given was loosely tied at the waist and her breast practically spilled out. She was not shy about that at all. Her hair was slicked down on her round head, curling slightly at the ends as it dried.

  Malnutrition had taken away almost all that he loved about her. It didn’t take much to damage the turned. Whoever took her knew that, and they were good at their job.