The Community Series, Books 1-3

by Tappan, Tracy

  Marissa tried again. She wanted to go home. Now. Who cared that all of her luggage was still upstairs in her hotel room. Her sister was teaching this seminar—her bitch of a sister!—while Marissa would play the student, once again squashed beneath her sister’s godlike superiority!

  No, no, and no! Candace didn’t pick up. Dammit. Marissa scrolled through her phone book and found the community message line. She depressed the call button. Nothing. What the hell? There was always at least one functioning cable into Ţărână’s network.

  “Marissa!” Footsteps rushed out of the Sheraton.

  Marissa turned around. Natalie.

  Her sister came to a breathless stop in front of her. “What are you doing? Are you leaving?”

  “Yes, Natalie, I am.” Marissa punched Candace’s phone number into her cell again and stuck it to her ear. “You’ll excuse me if I’m not in the mood to spend the next three days steeped in your hatred.”

  Natalie’s face stained red. “Don’t go,” she urged her softly. “I was hoping that…after class we could talk a bit.”

  Marissa laughed. The sound was harsh and bitter. “What? Do you think it’d be just, oh, such a bang-up time to reminisce about how you’ve spent the better part of your life making me feel like a worthless piece of trash?” She tightened her hand around her cell phone, nearly crushing it.

  Then it hit her. Here she was again, chasing down all of the insecurities her sister had planted in her over the years by coming to this seminar. She was already a damned great chef. Wasn’t she supposed to believe in herself now? What happened to all of the new confidence she’d found from her mother’s handmade cooking award? She shouldn’t be here!

  “Marissa, please. I realize everything you just said is true, but…I’ve been going to therapy for a while now, trying to get my head together, and…” Natalie blinked hard. “Mom’s death rearranged my priorities, you know.”

  “No, I don’t know.” Ring, ring, ring. Marissa gritted her teeth and cut the useless line. “You’ve never bothered to tell me anything about your life, Natalie, and certainly not what I did to you that was so fricking heinous.”

  “It was…” Natalie’s throat flexed. “It was that Dad never touched you.”

  “What are you talking about?” she snapped. “Of course, he touched me.”

  “No. I don’t mean hugs and stuff.” A tear leaked from the corner of Natalie’s eye, and she swiped it away. “When I was ten and you were twelve, Dad…started molesting me.”

  Marissa gave her sister an appalled look. Impossible that their father had done such a thing.

  “I was so angry that he didn’t do it to you, too.” Natalie’s chin trembled. “I mean I know I should’ve been glad for you, but I just…I wanted to know: why only me?”

  Marissa watched her sister struggle to make her confession, and her blood slowly turned to ice. When she was twelve years old, Marissa had almost drowned and Natalie hadn’t helped her, glaring from the pool’s edge with such hatred. Could…could this be true? Her stomach soured in disgust at the mere idea. But so much of Natalie’s behavior would make sense if she’d been molested. Made to feel weak and powerless by their father’s actions, Natalie had exploited Marissa’s weakness; her sister had been sexually abused, so she’d tried to get those high school boys to hurt Marissa the same way. Her sister had been violated, and had lashed out.

  “Did Dad love you more than me?” Natalie asked. “Is that why? Did he think you were better than me?” Her face tightened into a resentful mask. “Well, I set out to prove that you weren’t better than me, Marissa.”

  A vein in Marissa’s jaw pulsed. Whatever small seeds of sympathy had started to sprout for her sister withered and died. “So I’m not better than you, Natalie. Great. Congratulations. What exactly did you earn for yourself by proving that? A hateful relationship with your sister, that’s what.” More angry words bubbled up, but Marissa took a shaky breath and held them back. Regardless of her own resentments, her sister had been through much worse than a life spent feeling undermined. She needed to remember that. “Look, maybe Dad felt sorry for me because of my scoliosis and that’s why he didn’t hurt me.” She dialed her phone again. “But, frankly, I have no idea why.” Come on, Candace, pick up. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Natalie, I truly am, but…I’m thrown for a loop by it right now. I don’t know what—”

  A blue Chevy pulled up to the curb right in front of them.

  Marissa startled and stepped back.

  Two men hopped out, one tall, lean, and brown-haired, the other with the type of smooth dark skin that suggested Latin ancestry.

  The taller white guy took note of the phone pressed to her ear. “Marissa Bonaventure?” He pulled out a badge. “I’m Detective John Waterson of the SDPD.”

  Marissa cut the line of her cell, blinking several times. The police? “Um, yes?”

  The detective smiled at her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that you’re listed as a missing person from a crime committed back in June, and we’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  A missing person? Confusion stalled Marissa’s brain for a second. Oh, God, that’s right. The night Murk and Teer had kidnapped Marissa, her roommate, Lila, had called the police. But…how had they found her? Through the chef seminar? “Of course. What can I do for you?”

  “Do you want to step inside and sit—?” He broke off as his eyes locked onto her nametag. “Excuse me, but I thought your last name was Bonaventure.”

  “It is, well, was. Nichita’s my married name.”

  Something changed in the detective’s expression; something that sent a flood of cold down Marissa’s spine. “That’s a very distinctive last name.”

  “I suppose it is.” Her palms went damp. “Is there a problem?”

  “No problem. Truth is”—the detective unlooped the handcuffs from his belt and came at her—“looks like today’s my lucky day.”

  Chapter Forty

  Two hours earlier: community of Ţărână, 5:30 p.m.

  Alex was generally an anti-violence guy, a pacifist, as he’d told Hadley the day of the laser tag game. The last time he’d felt any kind of hostile compulsion was junior year of high school when Toni had been a freshman. One day Alex had been innocently collecting books out of his locker when sophomore beefneck Brad Flannigan had come up behind him with a, “Yo, Grand Master Wizard, have you, like, seen the awesome set of jugs on your sister? You think maybe she’d be free this weekend for me to give her a pearl necklace?”

  Flannigan and his group of jock buddies had guffawed until Alex whirled around and punched the star athlete square in the face. Flannigan was a total butt-wad and had deserved it, but Alex had still felt ashamed that he’d lowered himself to using his fists. Not that he’d thought the matter through. When it came to his mother and Toni, Alex’s temper tended to be a little hair-triggered. Or at least it had been since the age of eight, when Raymond Parthen, father extraordinaire, had divorced his mother and walked out on all of them forever, promoting Alex to the position of “man of the house.” And even though Luvera wasn’t officially one of the women in Alex’s life, he felt the same way about her. Sitting here in Ţărână’s courtroom, trying not to look at Shon slouched in the offender’s chair at the end of the U-shaped Council table, Alex couldn’t help entertaining all kinds of tearing-limb-from-limb fantasies over the idea that the youngest Brun had hurt her.

  To confuse matters, Alex also felt sorry for Shon. The Brun brothers hadn’t exactly had a Chuck E. Cheese childhood, being raised among the Om Rău in the horrendous living conditions of Oţărât and by a demon for a father. A person couldn’t come out the other end of a past like that and not have some baggage. The fair side of Alex wanted to offer Shon some understanding, especially now, with the man looking like he had a John Belushi hangover times fifty. What was up with that?

  Roth banged his gavel to get everyone’s attention, even though there were only six of them in the courtroo
m. “Let’s begin the proceedings.”

  Both Roth and Toni were serving as judges this evening, positioned at the head of the U-shaped table. Eventually, for the trial, there would be a four-person jury, but tonight was just to levy charges. Ţărână’s new judicial system was still in flux, partly waiting for Alex to become a Soothsayer and contribute his two cents to the whole operation—how wonderful was it that he still hadn’t done that? But also the community lawyer, Kimberly Stănescu, was helping them develop a system that more closely mimicked the one topside. They might need her guidance tonight, but she hadn’t been able to break away from her practice topside to come down.

  Toni pulled a sheet of paper in front of her. “I’ll read the list of charges. Shon Brun, you’re accused of unlawfully fraternizing with a Vârcolac female, endeavoring to break your solemn vow of celibacy, and an attempted forced bond.” Toni glanced up at Luvera, who was seated next to Dev on the bench across the aisle from where Alex, Jacken, and Nyko were lined up in a row of stiff, uncomfortable statues. “Luvera Nichita,” Toni went on. “You’re charged with unlawfully fraternizing with a Vârcolac male.”

  Alex stared at Luvera’s pale profile and blew out his cheeks. Now it finally made sense why she’d been looking so guilty lately, although the thing he didn’t understand was why now, here in the courtroom, she looked like she’d given up all hope. Vârcolac law wouldn’t punish her too harshly for her crime, would it? If the court tried to do that, he was definitely going to voice his opinion.

  Toni folded her hands on top of the list of charges. “You’re both to be remanded into custody until which time a trial—”

  “I plead guilty,” Shon drawled, “to all charges.”

  Toni frowned. “You’ll be given the chance to state your case during your trial, Shon.”

  Shon’s jaw jutted forward. “I’m not going to state my case,” he returned in a corrosive tone. “The reasons I did what I did are nobody’s business.”

  “The facts matter to sentencing,” Toni said softly. “This is a hefty list of—”

  “No.” Shon’s jaw was an inflexible brick.

  “Very well.” Roth picked up a pen. “You leave us no choice, but to—”

  “Please.” Luvera stood up, her eyes round and dark. “This isn’t entirely his fault. I was a willing participant, at least at first, and we…we just…” She paused to swallow, the beaten-down expression on her face eating through Alex’s heart. “We were just two very lonely people who wanted to do…to have some experiences. We’ve passed so many years never being touched.” Her face tinged pink. “It’s a horrible way to live.”

  Alex ducked his head. Man, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what it’d be like to live a life without the kind of caring touch he just took for granted.

  Roth leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing on Luvera. “This is the part of the case I don’t understand, Miss Nichita. Unless you and Mr. Brun are a couple of masochists, then the mode of touch you’re alluding to would be impossible outside of a bond.”

  Luvera’s blush darkened. “Well, it’s possible if, um, you do a…” She darted a glance at Shon.

  Shon straightened in his chair. “Right, listen up,” he said, his upper lip curling insolently. “You’re gonna want to pass this on to the single guys out there.”

  Alex caught Toni’s gaze at the end of Shon’s explanation of a Blood Ride. The courtroom was weighted with tension up the ying-yang now, but his sister could only answer his questioning look with a subtle eyebrow-shrug. As humans, neither of them could fully understand why the Vârcolac were so shaken up about this Blood Ride thing.

  Dev turned toward Luvera. “You did this, Luvera? You…ingested Shon’s blood?”

  Luvera sank down onto her bench. “Yes,” she croaked miserably.

  “You’ve blood-claimed him, then.” Dev’s face was stricken.

  “I know.” Tears shimmered in Luvera’s eyes. “And I don’t know what to do, Dev.”

  Dev spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “Me, either. I’ve never heard of anyone blood-claiming a person they didn’t want, and you…I’m assuming you don’t want Shon.”

  “I don’t,” Luvera responded in a voice so small it was barely audible.

  Shon focused his gaze on a spot of floor between his boots.

  “I was just lonely, like I said.” Luvera rubbed her lips together. “But now I’m trapped.”

  Alex raked a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe how awful this was for—Holy smokes! He sat bolt upright on his bench, the Light of Knowledge beaming directly into his brain. Blood-claimed! Holy-holy smokes! He drew a shuddering breath as all the puzzle pieces slammed together into a coherent picture. This was why Luvera had been refusing to go out with him. She thought she was stuck with another dude!

  “Did you—?” Dev began, but Alex butted in.

  “Excuse me.” He raised a hand to get the court’s attention. “But might I ask what law says that Luvera must stay with Shon?”

  The question knit Roth’s brows. “There’s no law, per se. It’s more of a cultural standard. Blood-claiming is a Vârcolac form of engagement, you could say. The next step is always bonding.”

  “But people can change their minds, right? In the human world, we break off engagements all the time. I can’t believe that’s never happened in the Vârcolac culture.”

  “It just isn’t done,” Roth pronounced.

  “But these two don’t want to bond,” Alex reasoned, fighting to keep his voice level. “You wouldn’t force two people who don’t love each other to form an eternal union over a mistake, would you?”

  “Alex, please,” Luvera intervened quietly, the corners of her eyes downturned. “You don’t understand. By taking in Shon’s blood, I’ve tainted myself for all other men.”

  Tainted? He’d never heard anything so ridicul—But no, apparently this wasn’t a laughing matter. The rest of the Vârcolac thought the same; Alex could see it written on every face. He sobered his expression. “You’re not tainted in my opinion,” he told her somberly. “I’m human, Luvera. This blood-claiming stuff doesn’t matter to me.”

  She smiled feebly. “That’s nice of you to say, Alex, but in my mind, I’ll always know I did this.”

  He stared at her, his chest tight and achy. He had no freaking idea how to combat this. “Why don’t we go on a date and just see what happens?” Now he sounded desperate. “You and I are so good together, Luvera. I think we could make each other really happy.” He’d filibuster his way out of this, that’s what he’d do, just keep talking until she said yes. He hadn’t fought for her before, so this time it was all about storming the hill and taking no prisoners. “Are you going to give up a chance at happiness with me over one mistake?”

  Luvera bowed her head and concentrated on her fingernails.

  Shon watched her from beneath his lashes.

  Alex flexed his hands, by turns hot, then cold, angry, then helpless. What was he supposed to do if she remained cemented in her imaginary “taintedness?” Go back to dating a bunch of other Vârcolac women? He might as well head topside and resign himself to going out with regular human women for all the joy that would—

  He stilled, an idea slapping him across the head. He’d been dating women since he was seventeen, lost his virginity at eighteen… His heartbeat quickened as his idea took full shape. “All right, if you want to get technical about it, Luvera, I’m tainted, too. So I guess that makes us even.”

  She met his eyes and frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not a virgin,” he said. “That goes against Vârcolac culture, doesn’t it?”

  “No, Alex,” she sighed. “Vârcolac don’t expect such a thing of humans. We recognize that you were raised differently in regards to sex.”

  “Exactly! And my culture has different ideas about matters of blood.” He crossed his arms. “You can’t just be allowed to forgive me for having had previous relations with women and then not allow me
to forgive you for blood-claiming another man.”

  She opened her mouth. “But—”

  “No buts. It has to go both ways or it’s not fair.” He swept his gaze across the other people in the courtroom. “We’re always talking about how this is a community of mixed cultures now, aren’t we? About how we need to accept each other’s ways and find a middle ground. Well…is that true, or just a bunch of talk?”

  Roth exchanged an unreadable glance with Jacken and Nyko.

  Toni’s eyes twinkled at him.

  Then an unexpected ally came to his defense. “Alex is right,” Dev told Luvera. “You need to forgive yourself for what you did with Shon and move on. Between Mom raising you with barely veiled hostility, Dad treating you like a useless female, me”—Dev grimaced—“basically ignoring you, and Alex gallivanting around with a bunch of other Vârcolac females right under your nose, you’ve been through a lot.”

  Alex squirmed. That probably had helped push Luvera into a Blood Ride.

  With one hand, Dev cupped the side of his sister’s head. “It’s totally understandable that you would’ve turned to someone else for comfort.” He smoothed his palm down her hair. “And I don’t think you’re tainted, either.”

  Luvera blinked up at her brother, tears gathering along her lashes. “Do you really mean that?”

  “I do.” Dev smiled.

  Luvera released a shaky breath, some of the rigidity easing from her shoulders.

  She’d needed acceptance from one of her own, and Alex dang near fell to his knees and kissed Dev’s ring—or buttons or shoelaces, since the warrior didn’t wear any rings—for coming to his rescue.

  “You know, Luvera,” Dev went on, “we spent all of our lives watching two people who didn’t love each other stuck in a bond. Do you want to end up like Mom and Dad?”