“I’m so sorry,” I blurted, my hands covering my mouth in shame.
“Don’t be.” Roman reached past me and popped open the glovebox. A roll of gauze tumbled out, and he caught it without blinking. He wrapped his wrist several times and then tore the gauze with his teeth before neatly tucking the end under itself. He returned the remainder to the glovebox where half a dozen unopened rolls were stacked next to a suture kit.
I wondered how many times he’d done this for the vampires he worked with. The thought tarnished the moment we’d just shared, and then I felt my cheeks burn as I realized just how one-sided the exchange must have been.
I rubbed the back of my hand over my mouth, trying to erase all traces of his blood.
Roman snatched a handheld transceiver off the dashboard. “Bravo Victor 7-12 to dispatch,” he said as he pressed the ignition button to start the SUV.
“Go ahead, 7-12,” a clear, feminine voice replied through the speaker.
“I have engaged tracer ST946 on a suspect’s vehicle.”
“Locking onto the coordinates now. Do you require assistance?”
“The vehicle’s passengers are with the Scarlett Inn—at least three victims, and three henchmen,” Roman said.
“Sending all available units to assist.”
“Roger. Over.” He hung up the transceiver and glanced down the street before peeling away from the curb. I grabbed the dash as we rounded a corner and torpedoed down the empty road.
A tracking round. Of course. It made sense now. Roman wouldn’t have been so careless as to shoot live rounds at a vehicle packed with kidnapped girls. He’d probably been planning to tag the van with a tracer all along. My violent carnival ride only served to light a fire under our targets’ asses. We’d lost the element of surprise. And all for nothing—well, except for a super awkward blood transfusion that made me feel things I knew weren’t there.
The sound of the SUV’s thundering engine did little to fill the awkward silence. I suddenly felt like that girl. The one who timidly asked after sex “was good for you too?” Except I was still reeling from the experience. How much of Roman’s blood had I drunk? And how was he so in control when a little sip from Vin had rendered his brain gooey and zapped his decorum?
Roman was a much larger man than the doctor, so maybe that made a difference where blood volume was concerned. He was also a pro at this, I remembered again, feeling all the more embarrassed by my resentful angst.
I stole a nervous glance across the cab of the vehicle. Roman gripped the wheel with both hands, his attention fully focused on the street as the SUV merged onto I-44. He’d lost the stocking cap, and his white hair shot off in all directions as if that were its unapologetic default style.
The skin around his eyes crinkled, and his square jaw flexed as he realized I was staring.
“The van is still moving,” he said, nodding at the GPS screen on the dash. “We won’t catch up with them until they stop, even with as fast as this tank moves. But backup won’t be far behind.”
I swallowed and looked out my window, watching the blur of lights as we hurdled past the handful of cars and semis on the highway at this hour. Before long, we crossed over the Meramec River and ran out of city, leaving civilization behind.
The stretch of I-44 that led the way from St. Louis to Eureka was a scenic drive during the day, running alongside conservation land and state parks. I hadn’t been out this way since the last time Mom had taken Laura and me to Six Flags, just before freshman year. Just before my twin had blossomed into her diva self. The drive wasn’t the same in the dark.
“Dispatch to Bravo Victor 7-12.” The speaker on the dash blared inside the SUV, making me jump in my seat.
Roman grabbed the transceiver again and held it up to his mouth. “This is 7-12.”
“Your engaged tracer has dropped off the map, but I’ve pinned the last checked location to your GPS. Twenty-eight backup units will meet you at the scene and await your orders.”
“Thank you, dispatch. Over.”
Twenty-eight? That seemed like a lot of manpower for three werewolf pimps. I wanted to ask Roman for more details, but I was still having a hard time finding my voice.
I unzipped my hoodie and peeled it off, discarding the shredded material on the floorboard of the back seat. My tee shirt hadn’t fared much better, and it was saturated with blood. A piece of skin dangled from the front buckle of my shoulder holster. I picked it off with trembling fingers and dropped it onto the floorboard, not knowing what else to do with it.
The butt of my Glock was scuffed all to hell. My heart pinched as I remembered that I’d dropped my mother’s Browning. I tried to be grateful that I’d been left with the more powerful weapon, but nostalgia still threatened to reduce me to tears. At least, I was going to give nostalgia full credit for that and not attribute it to being within arm’s reach of Roman and overwhelmed by the desire to touch him.
I tried to force the aching humiliation out of my mind as I turned the Glock over in my hands, wiping the blood away with the end of my tee shirt as I checked it for more damage.
“9mm?” Roman asked, shooting a quick glance in my direction.
I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Glock 22, so it takes 9mm or .40 cal.”
“Good.” He pulled the console down between us and opened it with one hand, never taking his eyes off the road. A dozen boxes of ammunition were stacked inside, secured under an elastic net. He unhooked one corner of the net and handed me a box.
Roman didn’t offer any further explanation, and rather than badger him with questions, I read the label. Silver Wolfsbane .40 caliber hollow points. I wasn’t familiar with the brand, but if we were going up against werewolves and exiled vampires, I’d take all the help I could get.
I ejected the magazine from my gun and ran my thumb over the first round, pushing it out and into my lap. The spring lifted another in its place, and I repeated the motion until I’d filled my lap. Then I lifted the gun again and pulled the slide back, ejecting the chambered round, too.
The new ammo was…pretty. The shiny, nickel-plated casings looked expensive, and a flowery lilac color spiraled from the base up to the indented tip of each bullet, giving them a delicate touch. It was fit for Barbie. I kept my opinion to myself as I loaded my magazine. Once it was filled, I slid it back inside the Glock.
I dug the extra magazine out of my holster and replaced its ammo, as well. The pile of old bullets crowding my lap fit inside the empty Silver Wolfsbane box. Just as I finished tucking everything back inside my holster, Roman exited off the highway and looped around to an outer road.
The speaker on the dash buzzed with static, and the dispatch operator’s voice crackled inside the SUV. “Dispatch to 7-12. Do you copy?”
Roman took up the mic on the dash again. “This is 7-12.”
“Units 4-32 and 5-26 are six miles out, with more close behind.”
“Thank you, dispatch. Over.”
The ammunition ritual had calmed my nerves, and I finally felt brave enough to speak up. “What are you expecting to find out here that requires that much backup?”
Roman braked and turned off the outer road onto a gravel one. It was narrow, almost tapered enough to be considered a one-way. Trees formed a low canopy overhead. A few of the branches scraped at the roof of the SUV.
“I’ve been investigating the Scarlett Inn for over a year,” Roman said, bringing the vehicle to a full stop. “I transferred here from Denver two months ago. Scarlett and Raphael have far more resources than we realized. They’ve slipped through our hands too many times, and we’re not taking any more chances.”
He clicked a few buttons on the dash, and the headlights shut off. The windshield and the windows on the front two doors flickered, and then the trees and the gravel road reappeared, all in shades of gray. I could see a driveway ahead that the headlights hadn’t illuminated before. It was like my blood vision, only without the red.
“Infrared,” Roman
said, answering my unspoken question. “We’ll be able to get closer this way. Normally, I’d park a mile or two out and go in on foot, but I don’t think I’m up for it after the blood loss.”
Guilt. I could use some more of that. I sighed and turned to look at him. “Thank you, by the way.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said, almost as if he sincerely wished I never would again. Happily.
“What’s the game plan?” I asked, offering a much-needed subject change.
Roman eased off the brake and let the SUV coast down the gravel road. The engine was barely a whisper now. “I’ll do some light recon, and then when backup arrives, they’ll raid the place and arrest everyone on-site.”
“So, what? You take the back and I’ll take the front? Keep anyone from making a run for it before the big guns arrive?”
“The only thing you’ll be taking is the front seat.” Roman blinked at me as if he couldn’t believe I would even suggest getting out of the vehicle.
“Then why load me up with your dollhouse ammo?” I snapped at him, shrugging off the last of my discomfort.
“In case Scarlett’s henchmen find us before we find them. In case this all goes to hell in a hurry.” His lips curled back in a pained grimace. “I don’t have the patience for any more of your ignorant heroics tonight.”
Or the blood, I thought grimly. I folded my arms and leaned back in the seat with a sigh. I’d been prepared to call it quits less than an hour ago. A mouthful of Roman and I was ready to take on the world again. Which would probably just get someone else killed. I seemed to be good at that.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I would even listen this time.
Wait, Skye. Will’s voice echoed in my mind. We don’t know how many are down there. Get back in the car, and we’ll call for backup.
It was the reasonable thing to do. All the experienced cops were doing it these days. Why couldn’t I just listen? What was wrong with me? Why was my conscience stomping my common sense into the ground?
Mandy. I should have told her to run as fast and as far as she could. Instead, I’d let my fear of what House Lilith would do to me cloud my better judgment. Now, I had a personal investment in the situation. It made the thought of sitting on my hands even more excruciating.
Some things were just easier said than done. Some lessons were harder than others. My dead partner haunting my thoughts didn’t even seem to be enough. I knew I’d do it all again.
What if they’re too late? What if there are girls down there? We have to do something.
Chapter Twenty
“Do half-sireds experience the red-eye treatment like vampires do?” I asked Roman as he parked at the edge of a cluster of trees and turned the SUV’s engine off. The dashboard was still lit up, along with all the fancy features I coveted.
Through the windshield’s infrared, I could see the outline of a farmhouse not far off. It was red now, rather than gray, since my panic and agitation had activated my blood vision. I tried to distract myself by falling back on quizzing Roman.
“Red-eye treatment?” he asked, surprising me. I’d expected some useless, smartass retort. Instead, he gave me a skeptical frown. “What do you mean?”
I hesitated, wondering if it was some hush-hush vampire secret that wasn’t to be shared with the human help. Roman just didn’t strike me as a Renfield patsy.
“You know, everything turns red when you’re hungry or angry or scared or…horny,” I added, clearing my throat.
Roman’s hands were suddenly on my face, his thumbs pushing my eyelids up so he could gaze into my eyes. “Are you experiencing this right now?”
“Um…a little,” I said, feeling my breath tighten in my throat as I leaned away from him.
“Have you told anyone else about this?” The grave note in his voice made me shudder. I’d meant for the trivia question to calm me down. Now, I wished I’d just meditated or twiddled my thumbs. This had backfired quickly.
“No, why?” If I hadn’t been so freaked out, I might have considered confessing that Mandy and Laura knew. Not now.
“Don’t. It will give you away,” Roman said.
I shoved his hands away and glared at him. “Give me away for what?”
“For killing your sire.”
My jaw dropped open, and I blinked stiffly at him. “I fired at least a dozen rounds into his torso, but he was most definitely still kicking and sucking the life out of me when I died.” And that was the truth. It damned well better set me free, I thought as Roman eased back into his own seat.
“Whether that’s true or not, you’ll still have to answer to House Lilith if it gets out.” He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand down the length of his face. “It’s bad enough that you’re his unsanctioned scion. If they even suspect that you had a hand in his demise—if they knew you bore the Eye of Blood…” He gave me a troubled look and sighed. “Keep it to yourself. You can do that, can’t you?”
I snorted. “Only if you tell me what it is.”
The sympathy drained from Roman’s expression. “It’s the sacred mark of Lilith, passed on to a scion only after their sire has perished.”
“How does that prove I did anything wrong?”
The blue of his eyes darkened. “Scions have killed for less.”
“Really?” That was surprising. It didn’t seem that useful. “Why?” I pressed.
“Your questions will have to wait.” Roman shook his head and pulled his stocking cap back on. I could tell he was embarrassed that he’d caved and answered me in the first place. “Do. Not. Move. From. This. Spot,” he said, pinning me in place with his commanding voice. Then he snatched the transceiver from the dash and climbed out of the SUV. He reached under his seat and retrieved his rifle before quietly closing the door behind him.
I mulled over the new information as I watched Roman disappear into the woods surrounding the farmhouse. If vampires had killed for this blood vision, it had to be good for something else that I hadn’t discovered yet.
I squinted through the windshield and hummed, trying to soothe my frayed nerves. My hands kept going to my gun, and then to the door handle. I tried to come up with a good excuse for leaving the SUV. What if I had to pee? That one might have worked a week ago.
The realization that I hadn’t used a toilet since waking up from the dead was something that I’d already processed a couple of days earlier. I hadn’t made it to that particular trivia question with Roman yet. It seemed like a good one to save for when I needed to remind him that he was full of shit, but I wasn’t. It still might not knock him down from his high horse, but a girl could try.
My eyes flicked back to the dashboard as the digital clock clicked over to show 2:45 A.M. Less than three hours until sunrise.
The grumble of engines crept up behind the SUV. I glanced over the seat and saw two cars park along the road on the opposite side. The infrared didn’t stretch all the way around the vehicle, but my blood vision—my Eye of Blood—was working overtime. I could see everything.
Two agents exited each car. The closest one held a transceiver like Roman’s. She detached something from the side of the device and slipped it over her ear before snapping the base of the transceiver to her belt, just above her hip. Then she opened the trunk of the car and passed out vests and rifles. The four of them geared up and then slipped through the same woods Roman had, creeping up on the farmhouse.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to beat my hands on the windows until someone told me why everyone else could rush in and save the day, but I had to sit here like an obedient dog. Gah!
Thinking of dogs made me wonder where Mandy was right now. Was she awake yet? What had they shot her with? I hoped someone had given her some clothes. Then I pictured her in fishnets like the poor girl in the alley and decided maybe she was better off with Maggie’s vest.
Something ripped, and I glanced down to see that my nails had gone through the leather front seat. My anxiety was manifesting in ways I couldn’t control. I licked the r
emnants of Roman’s blood from my teeth and tried to breathe. Big, deep breaths.
My eyes closed, and I lifted my chest, rolling my shoulders back in a relaxing stretch. I’d seen Laura do something similar on her yoga mat in the living room. It hadn’t done much for her either. She was still a drama queen. Which was exactly what I felt like right now.
A brigade of SUVs and cars paraded down the gravel road. Dozens of agents sporting rifles and body armor filed out and ventured into the woods. Someone signaled a group to go farther down the road, and they slipped into another section of secluded forest.
They were circling the property. This was the raid Roman had mentioned. It was going down now.
I rocked in my seat, feeling my nails slice through another patch of leather. If Roman didn’t hurry, it was going to look like I had invited a bobcat in here to keep me company.
As I squinted through the trees and tried to see where everyone came out near the farmhouse, I heard gunfire. First, just one shot. And then, many. Too many to count. The windows of the farmhouse lit up, conflicts evident in every room. I prayed Mandy wasn’t in one of them.
A flash of gold caught my eye—a girl darting across the lawn and through a line of trees bordering the property. My blood vision pulsed, and I realized the color had cut through the haze. But why? That had never happened before.
The wind ripped at my hair, and a single drop of rain splashed against my temple. I didn’t remember getting out of the SUV. I blinked and glanced behind me to where all the empty vehicles waited. This wasn’t where I belonged.
I stepped down into the muddy ditch and climbed up the opposite side into the meadow that stretched out before the farmhouse. The shadow of the trees glowed like fire. Night creatures sang over the moan of the wind, and somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.
I’m coming, Mandy.
I ducked under a sagging limb and entered the woods. The underbrush was thick and hazardous this time of year. Foliage camouflaged rocks and downed trees. The trek would have been a slow-going and cautious affair if not for the Eye of Blood.
Blood Vice Page 17