Blood of the Innocent

by Cheryel Hutton

  Veronica laughed in spite of herself. “Thanks. I appreciate that. I think.”

  “You’d be in big trouble if they found out how much you’ve told me, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes, I guess I would. The Guardians don’t like humans to know we exist.” She stood and wandered over to the window that looked out over the woody area and toward the town. “Damn Guardians.”

  “Whoa.” She heard Tim come up behind her. “What’s got you so pissed at these Guardian folks?”

  She put her head down, wondering if she should dig herself in deeper than she already had. She needed to talk, to let out some of the anger and worry that she kept buried deep inside. The unvoiced emotions festered like a wound when a splinter gets left inside, swelling with every passing day, painfully stretching her nerves almost beyond their limit. If she didn’t release the pressure soon, all the crap she’d trapped inside her was likely to spew out like a geyser.

  Turning she reached out to take Tim’s hand in hers. “A man was killed, and they don’t care because he’s human.”

  He tightened his grip on her hand. “We humans have been doing a reasonable job of taking care of ourselves for a while now.” He shrugged. “So they don’t care. Big deal. We can take care of our own.”

  “Not against us you can’t.”

  Tim’s eyes widened as he drew in a long, slow breath. “This guy was killed by one of your people?”

  She nodded. “Yes, he was killed by a vampire. The Guardians don’t care, and humans are unlikely to find the one responsible.”

  “What would happen if our police did find the bastard?”

  “Human police couldn’t capture him. If by some miracle they did, the Guardians wouldn’t dare leave him in human custody.”

  “That’s what I figured. So what can we do?”

  Veronica stared at Tim. “We?”

  “Well sure.” He put his back to her and held out his hands in a gun-aiming stance. “We can be Charlie’s Angels.”

  Laughter bubbled up from her chest. “Who will be Charlie?”

  Tim made a waving gesture. “We don’t need no stinking man to tell us what to do. How about we be Starsky and Hutch? You can be Hutch, since you got the blonde hair. I’ll be Starsky.”

  She faced Tim and took his hands in hers. “I truly appreciate you being there for me, but I don’t want you involved in something that might get sticky.”

  “Oh honey, Sticky is my middle name.”

  Confused, she studied his face. Was he making a joke? “Your middle name is James.”

  He laughed. “My sweet, literal Veronica.”

  His cell phone chirped and he turned away to pull it out. His voice dropped two octaves when he answered. “Yes?” There was silence for a moment, then, “Not again! I’m on my way.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “The client from hell just got arrested. Again.” He sighed. “I’ll be checking back with you. Don’t you dare go off on any adventures without me.”

  “No adventures, Sticky. I’ll remember.”

  He grinned as he kissed her on the forehead, then headed out the door.

  Adventure? That’s not what she’d call what she was considering. Unwise, unheard of, or just plain stupid. Yeah, that might describe it. Nobody messes with the Guardians. Nobody. Not if they knew even a little about the formidable protectors of the vampire species.

  Maybe the best way to describe what she was about to do would be suicidal.

  Chapter 4

  Joe listened to the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the wooden poles holding up the public pier he stood on the edge of. He hoped the sound might help calm his nerves. Maybe it did, a little, but he still thought he might jump out of his skin at any time. As darkness fell, the fog thickened to the point he could no longer see the ocean even from this close. Only the echoing rhythm told him he stood near the vast and powerful force of water.

  “Joe.”

  He jerked around so fast he almost tripped over his own feet. “How did you do that? I was listening for you, damn it!”

  Conner stepped closer to him. “My kind can move faster and more quietly than yours.”

  “Wanna tell me what else ‘your kind’ can do?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  Joe’s stomach tightened at the words. “Why do I get the feeling you guys don’t like talking about yourselves?”

  “You must understand, we have had to keep ourselves hidden from humans for thousands of years.”

  For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. “Thousands?” he forced out.

  Conner nodded. “Yes.”

  “Is it true you are dependent on us to survive?”

  “Yes. We must drink a small amount of human blood or suffer from severe anemia.”

  “Small amount? Like when a shark only takes an arm or leg?”

  “No. Only a few ounces.” The man, or whatever he was, took a step toward Joe. “Please, I can only stay here a few minutes, and I have things to tell you.”

  “Can’t be seen with a human?”

  Conner looked away a moment. When he turned back, he met Joe’s gaze and held it. “My being with you puts both of us in danger.”

  The truth of the statement hit Joe right in the belly. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little oversensitive right now.”

  Conner’s hand gripped his shoulder. “I understand. Your brother was a brave and moral man and I shall miss him. Still, my feelings likely fade in comparison to yours.”

  Hearing his brother described that way stung his eyes and filled his throat with barely held-back grief. “He was a good person.”

  “Yes, and he wanted badly to help defeat the gathering evil in our midst.”

  Joe forced his focus back to what was important. “The conspiracy.”

  “I believe Justin was making headway into the heart of the evil. As a human, he could get answers none of us could.”

  “No vampires could, you mean.”

  Conner looked out into the sea. “We prefer not to use that term with humans, because of the connotations your kind have added to the original meaning.”

  “Whatever you call yourselves, how do I know these ‘evil’ folks aren’t actually the good guys?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure how I can prove anything to you. You said you had Justin’s journal. Look at what he believed, that likely will be the only way to sway you.”

  The vampire looked around while shifting foot to foot. Joe realized he needed to put aside his misgivings long enough to listen. To pay attention to what this man had to say. “Okay, what is it you want to tell me?”

  Conner glanced around again, then stepped closer. “As I was saying, I believe Justin was making inroads into those who want to destroy the vampire species. As his brother, and presumably a person with access to that information, I believe you may be in grave danger.”

  Whatever else he might be, this guy was serious—and so was the situation. “I’m still sorting out the details,” Joe said, “but so far I’ve only seen general information. I haven’t founds names, or specific locations, or plans, or anything else that could be useful.”

  Conner took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. “The last time I spoke to Justin he told me he had important information. We were meeting for a late dinner that night, he said he had to check something out first, but he never showed up. I was terrified, and unfortunately, my fears were correct.”

  Joe’s breath caught and shivers rushed up his spine. “I haven’t found anything like that.”

  “I’m sure any such information would be well hidden.” Conner shot a glance around him and leaned toward Joe. “Either he really did know something important, or somebody thought he did.”

  “Or he wouldn’t be dead.” Joe swallowed hard.

  “I should go now. Please be careful.” Conner touched his arm, real concern evident in his eyes. “Whoever killed Justin doesn’t know what you have or have not discovered. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

 
“Thank you.”

  Conner nodded before he disappeared into the thick fog. Joe turned and followed, listening as he walked for anything that might indicate someone was near. As he headed toward Justin’s apartment, he admitted to himself Conner’s words had spooked him. The man truly seemed to have cared for his brother and his concern for Joe seemed genuine.

  He was unlocking the apartment door when he remembered what his brother’s notes said. For that matter, Conner himself had admitted vampires were strong psychics. Had he just been manipulated?

  Lying awake most of the long night, he wondered just what kind of mess his twin had wandered into. Had Justin trusted the wrong person? Was Conner even “C”? How could Joe know who to trust, especially when beings existed who were indistinguishable from humans, and had the ability to skew a person’s reality to suit their own agenda?

  He had to find some answers. And he thought he knew just where to start.

  ****

  Veronica eyed her co-worker with irritation. He’d followed her into the employee parking lot, and the scent of desire came off him with enough strength to make her want to run in the other direction.

  Not that Todd Kennedy wasn’t a good-looking man. In truth, he was quite handsome, she just wasn’t interested in mating—either casually or long-term. Aware her lack of interest was unusual, she was inclined to try to stay away from confrontation. Still, if the guy pushed it, she wasn’t above letting him know, in no uncertain terms, that she wasn’t interested.

  As she approached her car, the man walked faster until he trotted. Without looking his way, she climbed into her Lexus and pulled smoothly out of the space and toward the road. She easily blocked his anger with her mental shields, but out her rearview mirror, she saw the anger on his face, and her own smile as she considered his arrogance. She would choose her own sexual companions, and bullying only irritated her.

  Ten minutes later, she parked her car on the street outside her building and sat pondering the invisible waves of emotion swirling around her. The waves were so strong, the edges touched her before she turned onto her street, and curiosity was firing hard inside her. A human, someone with a strong emotional force, was nearby. That wasn’t unusual. Humans tended to have strong emotions and project them without even knowing. This human, though, projected strength and focus she’d never sensed from a human. Odd, and somehow exciting.

  She opened the door and slid out of her car, feeling the mental strength increase. Amazing. Her breath drew in hard and long. The human behind her had serious psychic ability, though she doubted he or she was aware of it. After making sure her shields were in place, she turned to discover who this gifted human was.

  “I know you’re there, you might as well come on out.”

  When the man stepped toward her, her breath caught in her chest. Even having met him, spoken to him, knowing the victim was his brother, even then it was like seeing a dead man standing before her. A heart-stoppingly handsome dead man.

  “You wouldn’t be much of an FBI agent if you didn’t know,” he said.

  She bit back the threatening smile. “As I told you before, I’m only a consultant.”

  “Who spends her nights in the basement of the Old Seabird Mansion.”

  She crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him. “And you know this how?”

  He smiled. “You really aren’t an agent, are you? I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

  Anger sputtered, but wouldn’t flare, probably because she was too intrigued by this guy. “The old Seabird Mansion is where I work.”

  “It’s a beautiful place, I’ll give you that. Queen Anne, I believe, complete with tower. But you don’t work inside the main house. You work in a basement. At night. Sounds shady to me.”

  “Ha-ha.” Heat rose through Veronica as her jaw clenched, and her hands fisted. “I’m a biochemist and my lab is below the house.”

  He raised one dark eyebrow. “Interesting place to put a laboratory.”

  She bit her lip to keep from kissing—no that wasn’t right—to keep from hitting what-ever-the-hell his name was. Her gaze caught on his mouth and held. Full, luscious lips. She wanted badly to taste them.

  “Joe.”

  Her attention jerked to his eyes. “What?”

  “You asked what my name was, it’s Joe. Joe Sullivan.”

  Had she asked him his name? She remembered wondering, but she hadn’t asked him. Had she? She didn’t think so, but she must have.

  “What’s your name, Dr. FBI?”

  “Veronica Teal.”

  “Named for Veronica Mars, or the old comic book Veronica?”

  She met his gaze with a hard, steady glare. “Neither. I was named for Veronica Lake.”

  “The movie star?”

  “You’ve heard of her?”

  He shrugged. “My grandmother is a huge fan of classic movies.”

  “Dad’s an old film buff.” Not exactly, but she wasn’t about to admit her father had an affair with Ms. Lake—in 1942—and had never lost his fascination for the human.

  “Who had an affair?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He held up his hands as if in surrender. “Hey, you were the one saying something about an affair. In nineteen forty-something, I believe.”

  Okay, enough of this. “I didn’t say anything.”

  He leaned toward her, his nose almost touching hers. “I damn well heard you.”

  “Well, you must have imagined it, because I didn’t say anything about an affair.”

  Great, the woman’s loony tunes, she heard him say.

  “Me? You’re the one who’s hearing things.” she pointed out.

  Joe blinked and took two steps back.

  I didn’t say that out loud. I’m sure I didn’t.

  She heard, and irritation crawled up her spine. What game was he playing?

  “You must have spoken. How else would I know?” The confusion in his eyes had her rethinking the situation. She mentally replayed the last few minutes, and a sharp realization stabbed her. “We can hear each other’s thoughts.”

  Joe stared at her. “How can that be?”

  “No idea.” She focused on slamming down her strongest defenses against psychic invasion.

  “You do know. This has happened to you before.”

  Not with a human!

  She tried to block the errant thought.

  Joe stepped back again, wide eyes locked on hers. “You’re a vampire!” He gasped.

  She opened her mouth to deny the idea, then realized it was a little late for hiding behind lies.

  “Yes,” she told him. “I am. How do you know about vampires?”

  He looked at her for a long moment, then slowly shook his head. “I’m pretty sure I’m either in a really strange dream, or an episode of the Twilight Zone.”

  “You aren’t the only one.” The sky was beginning to lighten; she had to make a decision. Now. “Come with me, we’ll talk.”

  “Can’t tolerate the sunlight?”

  His sarcastic tone made her want to scream. She would have liked to walk away, but knew she had to see this through or it would just get worse over time. “As a matter of fact, I’m highly sensitive to the sun.”

  She turned toward her building, and Joe fell into step behind her.

  His thoughts reached out to her. He hoped he didn’t live to regret trusting her. Unless she killed him and drained his blood.

  “Oh good grief, don’t be so melodramatic.” She sighed as she turned the key in the lock and ushered him into her lair.

  Chapter 5

  Joe followed Veronica into a perfectly normal looking, nineteenth-century home that had been converted into apartments. The yellow, well-cared for building was gorgeous. And so was the woman.

  In fact, Veronica was probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, which had him wondering how many of the “beautiful people” weren’t people at all.

  They walked into an open lobby, with an oak
staircase leading to the second floor. Two doors, with apartment numbers on them, led off the lobby. Joe was looking for the basement door, when he realized she was heading up the stairs.

  She opened the door and waved him into a normal apartment, including windows allowing the morning sun to touch the classic couch, chair, coffee table, and three smaller tables scattered around the room.

  “Have a seat,” she said. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “What would you suggest, Blood Lite, maybe?”

  “I was thinking coffee, or maybe orange juice. I do have wine if you’d like that, though it is a little early in the day.”

  “If you’re making coffee, that would be great.”

  “I am.” She turned and headed toward the back of the apartment.

  He paced for a few minutes while he mentally kicked his own butt. He was upset and frustrated. That was why he’d been sarcastic. He looked out one of the two windows. The sunlight gave the room a cheery feel. The apartment was decorated nicely. A soft green couch with yellow pillows sat on one side. Simple decorations on the walls and coffee table. A small round table with a vase of some sort of flowers sat by the front window. Feminine, but not in-your-face girly. Soft but practical. Warm.

  Wait a minute. She said she couldn’t tolerate the sun. She’d had to get inside to avoid it, but the windows allowed the daylight to come right into her home. What the hell?

  Curious, he inspected the glass and frame to see if he could detect something special about them. If not, he’d just been conned. This close, he could see something unusual about the light falling on his hands and the table in front of the window. He had a suspicion that some of the wavelengths were either missing or altered.

  After a bit more inspection, a brownish substance gathered in one corner of the frame caught his eye. It only took a moment to realize the window was coated with some substance. The stuff must block whatever hurt the bloodsuckers.

  He sat on the overstuffed green couch, dropped his head into his hands, and got back to the berating of himself. Being a jerk to this woman wouldn’t help anything. She couldn’t help what she was any more than he could.