“Mona! Don’t!” Jiao cried behind her, unable to restrain her.
Mona was about to grab the woman’s shoulder when the prisoner disappeared. She swept the room with a quick glance, and when she turned, the prisoner stood inches away from her face. Mona's blood froze at the sight of the pair of sharp fangs perilously close to her. The woman seized her neck with one hand, raising her from the ground several inches.
“I can't...” Mona grunted, “breathe!”
“Alisa, please!” Jiao cried. “There’s no need for this… Enough!”
With a defiant stare, Alisa pulled her closer until her lips met Mona’s ear.
“I would never drink your blood,” she said. “Your kind is beneath me, witch.
“I am Alisa Lockhart. I’ve been a vampire for over three hundred years. The millenary blood of kings runs through my veins. And you... You are nothing but a fool.”
Mona’s body slammed against the floor. Gasping for air, she scrambled arms and legs and all but crawled to the doorway, where Jiao Long stood. Why hadn’t he helped her? Why hadn’t he moved?
Then it hit her.
The spell.
She had cast it herself years ago. A locking spell to protect those outside the room and contain the one meant to be inside. Alisa could not walk out of the room but anyone could step inside—and suffer the consequences.
She could have killed me.
As she reached Jiao Long’s arms, he helped her on her feet and immediately shoved Mona behind him.
“You’ve been a naughty girl, Alisa…” Jiao clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Perhaps Liam should stop by again tonight.”
Alisa’s bloodshot eyes shimmered again at the sound of that name. The muscles in her neck tightened. “I’ve seen your end, Jiao Long,” she said. “It will come sooner than you think.”
“Then I’ll make sure to enjoy my life to the fullest.” Jiao pursed his lips. “It’s such a beautiful night for it, isn’t it? Oh… That’s right. There are no windows here.” He uttered a short quiet laugh.
Alisa roared. She ran to the door, both menacing fangs bare and ready to tear Jiao to pieces. But the second she reached the threshold, she blasted to the back of the room.
Who’s foolish now, Alisa?
“Ow…” Jiao Long winced, and this gesture made him the sexiest immortal in the world. “Not such an amateur witch after all, is she?”
On her knees, Alisa wept tears of fury. “You will pay in blood for what you’ve done, Jiao Long!”
“I pay my debts in cash exclusively, my dear.” Jiao wrapped his arm around Mona’s waist as they headed back into the hallway.
“Ta-ta, Princess of the Blood.”
“You keep Alisa Lockhart in your prison ward?” Mona all but screamed. Her quivering hands reached for the steaming cup of tea.
Jiao sniggered. “And I trapped her so easily…” he boasted. “All I had to do was summon her on the pretense of reminiscing on the good old days.”
Mona’s eyes flew open. “You were lovers?” She stroked her neck—it still hurt. She could still feel Alisa’s fingers sinking in her skin.
He turned to the window, lost in his thoughts as his eyes met the horizon, where the dark sea merged with a starless sky.
“We knew each other well,” he said, “in another lifetime.”
“That thing she said… You will pay for what you’ve done—what did she mean by that?” Mona took a sip of her chamomile tea, strong enough to calm her nerves.
“Oh…” Jiao raised his brow. “I fibbed a little. I told Alisa that Lockhart had been exposed by the coven and destroyed.”
Mona snickered. “Wicked awesome.”
“Damned Lockhart…” he mused. “I’ll turn that lie into reality in no time.”
“Why do you hate him so much?” Mona got rid of her shoes and snuggled in the sofa, casually tossing her hair back.
“He’s ruined everything for me,” Jiao muttered. “He always has.” He moved away from the window and sat next to Mona. He smoothed his hand on her leg. “Such a precious gift in his hands… wasting away.”
For a second, Mona doubted he referred to the Source. Just how deeply did his story go with Alisa?
“Mona…” he whispered, leaning closer.
“Yes?” she said.
“I need something from you.”
“Anything.”
Mona’s answer pleased him.
Bats flapped their tiny wings in her stomach. Was it wrong of her to be attracted to her own blood? She neither worried nor cared. Mona drew closer to him still, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath land on her cheek.
“Keep a close watch on the Deveraux witch, will you?” he said in a velvety voice, a suggestive and inciting voice.
“Why do you think I married her father?” she uttered, locking her lustful eyes in his stare.
“Mai Mai…” he whispered, his hand cupping the side of her face.
“Yes?” she said, heart racing and beating hard against her chest. Jiao’s lips drew closer to her mouth.
“I need something else from you…”
Mona smiled. It didn’t take being a witch to read his mind.
Elizabeth
Her eyes fixed on him as he walked into the car dealership. Even the staff dropped their activities on the spot just to get a glimpse of this man.
Strong jawline, smooth full lips, chiseled nose, and the most gorgeous blue eyes she had ever seen... He wore an Oxford grey Armani suit, white stiff cotton shirt enticingly unbuttoned at the neck, and spotless Italian leather shoes.
The man headed towards her office. Her heart pounded like crazy. This was high-school all over again: Elizabeth sat at the cafeteria and the hottest guy in school was about to sit with her for lunch... Snap out of it, Elizabeth. Get a hold of yourself. You're a twenty-three-year-old woman, the head of accounts of an automobile imports empire. Breathe!
She took a deep breath and then smiled at the client who now sat before her. With an open and beckoning attitude, he relaxed in the chair, crossing his legs in a figure four fashion. He slipped two fingers on his right temple and slightly tilted his head.
“Good evening, my name is Phillip Blackwell. I’m here to retrieve an automobile.”
She smiled.
The man's sole looks could stop traffic. Elizabeth had a keen eye, she could tell this guy was after a high-end vehicle... Maserati, maybe?
“Good evening, Mr. Blackwell. Allow me to check our listing.” She was a professional. He would never know that her knees trembled under the heavy oak desk standing between them. “Here it is: Lamborghini Aventador in white.”
“That sounds just about right,” he said, pleased.
Elizabeth slid off her high heels and crossed her ankles. Mr. Blackwell's smile melted her heart. The teenager in her was winning. As soon as she realized it, she regained her composure and put back on her shoes.
“Would you like to see it?” She all but grinned as she stood, offering to escort him to the garage.
“Yes, I would. Nothing would please me more.” He gave her a friendly smile and followed her outside the small but cozy office.
Elizabeth unlocked the garage. She pulled the rolling steel door. It wouldn't open. “It's stuck... I’ll get one of the guys.”
“Allow me.” Mr. Blackwell kneeled before she could stop him. With one hand, he rolled up the door as if it weighed nothing. How in the world did he—?
She turned on the light switch. A dazzling array of luxurious cars appeared before their eyes: Alfa Romeo, Maserati, Porsche... and among them, her client's Lamborghini.
He moved through those vehicles as if they were invisible. He stopped before the Lamborghini and smoothed his hand over its pristine white hood.
Elizabeth’s hand landed on his arm. “Keys?” she said. Strong arms. Hard as stone, unyielding to the touch of her fingers. Mr. Blackwell looked over his shoulder, smiled, and took the keys without hesitation.
He opened the door and sat on t
he driver’s seat. His wandering eyes marveled at the car’s interior. “Sit with me,” he said, patting the copilot seat with a playful attitude.
Elizabeth blushed. “I probably shouldn’t,” she replied, gazing downwards at her clasping hands.
Mr. Blackwell stepped out of the car. He took her hand and gently led her to the passenger's seat. “I insist.” He opened the door. “Will you not take part in my happiness?”
“Well, when you put it that way, Mr. Blackwell…” She shrugged. The man was alluring and impossible to refuse.
“Please, call me Phillip.” He started the car’s ignition. The motor purred as a happy kitten. Firmly holding the driving wheel, he entered the gear and drove out of the garage fast.
They left the building within seconds. Elizabeth turned back. As the dealership grew smaller in the distance, she panicked. She could lose her job over this.
Phillip noticed her reaction by the corner of his eye. “Don’t worry, Elizabeth,” he reassured her.
“Oh, it’s just—wait. How do you know my name?”
Brief, gallant smile. “It’s on your name tag,” he charmingly pointed out.
Elizabeth looked down, and there it was—that hideous plastic contrivance pinned to her blazer’s breast pocket. Tittering, she flicked it with her fingers.
They drove engaged in high speeding, the streetlights flashing as they passed them. As they arrived at the Golden Gate Bridge, Phillip entered another gear. The roaring vehicle outran the surrounding cars so fast it made Elizabeth dizzy. Better put my seatbelt on.
For a second, Phillip took his eyes off the road and looked at her. His blue eyes gleamed unnaturally, but it happened so fast... she might have imagined it.
“I’d say it’s about closing time back there—at your office,” he suggested, taking the exit to Sausalito’s Vista Point.
He pulled over. The city's landscape glimmered with myriad titillating lights. Phillip turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car. Elizabeth followed.
He slipped his hands into his pants pockets and leaned against the bumper. As a soft breeze blew and enveloped them, Phillip closed his eyes.
Elizabeth stood a couple of steps behind, admiring him. She would never have summoned the courage to approach such a man. And yet, he had kidnapped her from her workplace. And here they were, together in silence, enjoying one of the city’s major sights.
“I assume you have plans for the evening with your friends,” he said.
Moving closer, she got rid of that ridiculous blue blazer and its name tag. Elizabeth unpinned her chignon, setting free her long auburn hair to sway in the wind.
“No plans.” She shrugged. No plans and no friends. Elizabeth led a solitary life, and she liked it that way. She would have dinner at home and watch a movie—Hitchcock’s films were her favorites.
“Then perhaps I could take you to dinner?” He slipped studied her face to read her reaction. “I know a great burger joint.” He gave her a tantalizing smile.
She checked the time on her wristwatch. 9:30 PM. She was off the clock, what was there to think about? “Sure, sounds great.”
They arrived at the diner. It was a small restaurant with at least five serving tables and some six stools by the counter. They served hot dogs and sandwiches, but burgers were their specialty—Phillip had said.
“Hey there, Sam,” Phillip said to the man behind the counter. “I brought a friend over. She’ll be having one of your delicious burgers tonight.”
“How’s it going Phillip?” Sam replied. “Welcome, Miss. One high-top burger coming up! And what can I get you?”
“Nah, nothing for me tonight,” Phillip said. “I already had dinner.”
They sat on a small booth at the shop’s corner. A warm, cozy spot. She was lucky to be having dinner with such a fascinating man. His manners were polished and refined, yet he must have been twenty-six years old tops.
He leaned towards her. “I promise you won’t regret this,” he said with a hint of intimacy.
She blushed, and he noticed, but paid little attention to it—fortunately.
“Are you happy with your new car?” What a silly question.
“Yes I am, Elizabeth.” He ordered a beer with a quick hand gesture. “May I ask you something?” Enticing as he leaned closer and lowered his voice, seeking confidentiality.
She nodded.
“Why do you do this for a living—sell luxurious cars to pretentious buyers such as myself?” He smiled. “I get the feeling that there’s more to you than a desk job. I see before me someone ready for adventure—Forgive me, I shouldn’t presume to know a thing about you. We’ve only met tonight.”
But she couldn’t dismiss what he said because it happened to be true.
She had left Los Angeles searching for independence. Elizabeth found in San Francisco a world of opportunities for her to thrive. But somewhere along the way, she settled. She took the job at the car dealership because it paid the rent, and God knows how expensive rents were in the city.
Elizabeth pushed the burger aside and grabbed Phillip's beer. She drank a good mouthful of that heavenly poison. He raised his brow, surprised apparently.
“You’re right.” Her barriers came down quickly. The beer helped. “I settled. That’s what happened…” Another drink.
“Hold that thought,” he whispered, pressing her hand. She could have swooned by the touch of his hand.
Phillip looked away, towards the entrance. A young man stood at the diner’s door. They stared at each other for a few minutes.
That's kind of odd. Elizabeth finished her beer.
Phillip rose from the chair. “Excuse me for a moment, please.” He walked towards the man who was dressed as a renegade in dark jeans and a black leather jacket.
“Jiao Long,” Phillip said. The diner was so small, she had no trouble hearing every word.
The man, this Jiao Long, smiled. What was he—twenty, twenty-one? A bit shorter than Phillip, with dark hair and bright hazel eyes.
“New car, huh?” Jiao Long pointed to the Lamborghini parked outside. “I hear they run pretty fast, but you wouldn’t know, right Phillip? You’ve slowed down…” He turned and laughed with someone whom Elizabeth could not see.
Phillip gave him a mirthless laugh. “That’s funny, Jiao. What are you riding these days, a bike?” looking at his biker black leather jacket.
Jiao sneered. “I’ve got a Camaro parked outside… What do you say we put it to the test against your new set of wheels? If you’re not too scared of damaging your precious car, that is.”
That bastard! How would Phillip respond to this bully? Would he engage his brand new car on a street race? Would he show off that adventurous side he had mentioned earlier?
“You do realize it’s a Lamborghini—my automobile. It wouldn’t be fair to you.” Phillip shrugged.
Well, that was decent of him.
Jiao Long brayed with laughter. His friend emerged from the shadows and joined him. He was a man in his thirties, six feet tall and with long blond hair, almost white.
Their reaction did not agree with Phillip. The muscles on his neck tensed as he clenched his jaw. “Fine. We’ll race on Redwood Highway and call Richmond Bridge the finish line. Whoever gets to the bridge first, wins.”
Jiao stopped laughing. He ran his hand over his chin, stroking his rough stubble. “What of the prize? What’s in it for me when I win?” He turned a salacious look straight at Elizabeth. It made her stomach churn. She snuck further into the diner’s corner, out of Jiao Long’s view.
Phillip’s hand landed on Jiao’s chest, driving away his attention from Elizabeth. “If you win, you get the satisfaction of beating me for once in your life.” He smirked. “You need nothing else.”
Jiao stepped back. “Very well. Meet me at Spencer Avenue. I’ll be waiting.”
Phillip turned to Elizabeth. He removed his suit's jacket and rolled his sleeves below his elbows as he walked towards her.
“We
ll,” heaving a sigh, he slid in the booth. “That’s taken care of.” He drew out a gold cigarette case from his pocket. Phillip played with a cigarette between his fingers for a few seconds. He then tapped the filter against the table a couple of times.
“So, it’s settled,” he said. “Tonight, we race.”
“What—we?” Elizabeth blinked, pulling back in her seat. There’s no way in hell I’m racing… ever.
“It’ll be over before you know it. Plus, it’ll be fun…” he said in a tantalizing voice. And she would have done anything he wanted—wait. What was this conversation about? Oh, right. Racing.
Phillip’s hand landed over the cigarette case on the table, he slipped it towards him and got up. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
What was this gorgeous man thinking? He had literally extracted her from the office, bought her dinner, and now meant to take her street racing? He must be used to getting whatever he wants. And this won’t be the exception, will it?
“Fine,” she whispered, loving the touch of his hand persuading her to move away from the booth and walk with him to the car.
“It’s been great seeing you.” Phillip slipped a bill over the counter. A hundred dollars? Cute and generous.
“Thanks, Sam,” Elizabeth said.
“Good luck, kids.” Sam waved as they walked out of the diner.
Phillip
Multicolored automobiles filled the parking lot at Spencer Avenue. Music blasted off the car speakers. Young men and women hung around smoking and chatting, drinking and laughing. The Dragon sigil tattooed their necks, forearms, wrists, and backs—Jiao’s way of branding his midblood followers.
Midbloods were mortals who’d had a taste of the Blood, though not enough for their bodies to undergo full transformation. Their senses were usually enhanced by the Dark Blood. Still, they remained mortal and did not suffer a vampire's hunger for human blood.
Midbloods stood between the ordinary world and the unnatural realm, a most unsuitable lineage in Phillip’s eyes.
Jiao curated his heard by keeping the ones he liked best and killing off the rest. Not the most moral approach to the Kill. Phillip disapproved of creating midbloods, but they certainly did not deserve to die for it… But who was he to judge a fellow blood drinker? To each his own.
Call of Blood: A Novel of The Unnatural Brethren Page 13