Blood and Thunder

by Roquet, Angela

  “Ugh.” I poked my head out of the closet to glare at him. “Really? You had to put it that way?”

  “Am I wrong?” He pushed his glasses up his nose and folded his arms.

  “He bled into a cup. I didn’t even touch him.”

  “That’s not the point—”

  “Then what is the point?” I snapped. “I don’t demand that you ask my permission every time you eat, do I?”

  “That’s different. I’m not eating people,” he shouted as I ducked back into the closet to find my cork-heeled sandals. They were the only shoes that would go with the white dress.

  “You make me sound like a monster.”

  “You’re not a monster.” He groaned. “I’d just like you to be more open and talk with me about these things before you do them. Is that really so much to ask?”

  “You can’t be my only blood source. That’s stupid to even suggest. And I don’t see why you think you should be able to dictate to me who else I feed from. That’s a little controlling for my tastes, Vin.”

  I stepped out of the closet to look at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of my door and fingered my hair back into place. I didn’t have Vanessa’s fancy styling skills, but I’d done a fair job of curling my ends. In the white dress, I looked fit for church. Just so long as no one looked up my skirt and spotted the thigh holster with the .380 Vanessa hadn’t asked me to return.

  “That’s what you’re wearing tonight?” Vin ogled my reflection from his perch on the bed.

  “Are you going to try and tell me that you should have control over my wardrobe now, too?”

  “No.” His face flushed at the suggestion, which told me well enough that he’d like to. “I just expected you to be in something…black, maybe? You look like you’re going to Sunday brunch.”

  I tilted my head to one side, unable to disagree with him. “I let Mandy pick it out.”

  Vin’s eyebrows rose, and he blinked stiffly. He opened his mouth, but the doorbell cut him off. Same as before, Roman was half an hour early. This time, I was prepared for him, though I did intend to ask what the deal was with the off scheduling.

  “Don’t wait up.” I gave Vin a peck on the cheek and hurried out of my bedroom. He followed, which was unfortunate but not surprising.

  “You said he wouldn’t be here until eleven.”

  “That’s what I thought,” I said with a dismissive shrug.

  “But we’re not done talking.” Vin pushed ahead to cut me off in the mouth of the hallway. “Doesn’t this matter to you? Don’t we matter to you?”

  “Vin.” I sighed and pressed my lips together. “You knew I had to work tonight—”

  “Work?” He scoffed. “They haven’t even told you what you’re getting paid.”

  “I’ll find out tonight,” I said through clenched teeth as the doorbell rang again. “Now, move.”

  Vin narrowed his eyes, but he pulled his hand off the wall and stepped out of my path. He followed me the rest of the way to the front door, keeping a safe distance behind.

  Roman waited on the front porch in a charcoal-gray suit. His jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a crisp, white dress shirt. The look was almost too formal, only being saved by the fact that he wasn’t wearing a tie. With his cool blue eyes and tanned skin, he was a sight to behold. A modern-day Apollo. He took in my dress with a subtle glance and then gave me a short nod as if to say it would do. So much for wowing him.

  As I stepped out onto the porch, Vin caught the door behind me. “Get her home before sunrise this time,” he said, shooting Roman a reprimanding scowl that filled my face with fire.

  “Of course.” Roman gave me a questioning look, but he didn’t say anything until we were closed up in his SUV and heading down the street. “Was there a problem after I dropped you off Tuesday morning?”

  “No. Well—” I sighed and rubbed my forehead with one hand. “It was nothing, really. Vin’s just pissy because I drank someone else’s blood tonight.” I could feel Roman’s eyes on me without having to look at him.

  “The werewolf girl?” he asked, surprising me with his watered-down language.

  “No, actually. The officer you spoke to Monday morning.”

  “At your house?” He sounded alarmed. “Was this a willing meal?”

  “More than willing. He volunteered.” I wanted to be offended, but I understood why he would ask. I was a sireless vampling, and he’d caught me red-handed—or red-mouthed, rather—once before.

  “That’s two for your harem. It’s a good start,” Roman said.

  I nodded, deciding not to share Mandy’s offer with him just yet. I still wasn’t sure whether or not I would accept it. Besides, I had too much else I wanted to badger him about before we arrived at this party.

  “How do most vampires go about building their harems if we’re supposed to be so secretive and not tell anyone?”

  To my surprise, Roman didn’t sigh or grumble at my question. “Most of them have sires with established harems,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road as he filled me in. “There are some humans who are freelance donors, like those you saw at the club, but they comprise a minuscule percentage of the population. The rest of the humans who are privy to the supernatural underworld are introduced by sires who either knew them during their mortal years or who took a liking to them after the fact. It’s a delicate situation, but most vampires do not have to worry themselves with those details for several decades. You’ll need to be very selective about those you add to your harem. If they become a problem, it will be your responsibility to silence them, one way or another, or you’ll be held accountable for their actions.”

  “That’s comforting.” I rolled my eyes.

  “That’s valuable information you need to know,” he countered. “Here’s some more valuable information you might enjoy. The ashes of Pablo Zajalvo, a Spanish vampire who immigrated to the States a decade back, were found in a cabin near Springfield. The reports show that a tornado ripped the roof off, exposing his sleeping body to the sun.”

  “Ouch.” I hissed my sympathy and scowled at Roman. “Why would I enjoy knowing that?”

  “Because he received permission to create a scion last year, but he never registered one.”

  My breath rushed out with trembling anticipation. “Does that mean…?”

  “You should read up on the history of his village in Spain, just in case anyone gets nosy and wants to press you for personal details,” Roman said. “There’s a registration form for you to complete in the glove compartment, and I have a trusted friend willing to write a witness account to prove you’re Pablo’s scion so the paperwork goes through post-post-mortem.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and refrained from blubbering. “Thank you.”

  Roman nodded, but his jaw tensed. “It’s the least I could do after nearly getting you killed Monday night.”

  “You didn’t—”

  “And you should be getting a check in the mail within two weeks. Eight thousand is the high-end for civilian operations, and that’s what I put down on the bid sheet I turned in.”

  “I still want an interview,” I injected, hating how ungrateful it made me sound. But everything he was saying had the undertone of dismissal, as if he were trying to pacify me before imparting some massive letdown. “And Collins and Mandy both want interviews, too.”

  That one did produce a grumble from Roman. “Mandy is too young, without a pack, and she has a record. Your officer friend’s chances are only slightly better, but fake sire or not, you’re still a scion of House Lilith, and if that information ever comes to light, not only will you be executed, but anyone you’ve sired will go down with you.”

  “He doesn’t want to be sired,” I said, ignoring the chill that vibrated up my spine. “He just wants a job. He lost his defending my honor.”

  Roman chuckled. “You seem to inspire that in quite a few men. I’ve nearly lost my job over you twice now.”

  The confession sent anothe
r chill through my body, and I couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “Does that mean you’ll help me—help us get in with Blood Vice?”

  He shook his head, but the gesture was more in defeat than refusal. “First, let’s take care of your sire cover. Then I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Catching this serial killer should help, too, right?”

  Roman’s brow creased, but he reached across my lap and opened the glovebox, coming away with a manila folder. “I don’t think this party is public enough to attract the killer’s attention, but just in case.”

  I flipped the file open and glanced through a small stack of grainy photographs that looked as if they’d been taken from the club video footage. I spotted the most recent victim in the last shot, his back turned to the camera. I wouldn’t have known it was him if not for the red circle drawn around his head. A dark-haired woman in a black gown stood at his side. I could only see her profile, but she could have easily been one of the Elviras I’d encountered in the back hallway.

  “This is it?” I asked.

  Roman nodded. “And since the body wasn’t found on club property, and we obtained the video footage without a warrant, we weren’t allowed to shut the place down and search for more evidence.”

  “So, just as much red tape bullshit as the human authorities deal with. Check.”

  Roman’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as he turned off Ladue Road and into one of the fancy neighborhoods just past the Country Club golf course. A few minutes later, we pulled into an extra-wide driveway lined with luxury cars on either side.

  We found a parking spot, and Roman killed the SUV’s engine. “I wouldn’t mention Zajalvo to anyone for now,” he said. “The news of his death hasn’t been publicly shared since there’s an open investigation.”

  “Okay,” I whispered breathlessly as I took in the looming house. The impressive landscaping was lit up with park quality lanterns that rendered the entire front lawn bright as day. “What should I talk about with these people? What could I possibly have in common with them?” I asked, eyeing their fancy cars.

  Mandy had been right. The few vampires I spotted making their way down the paved drive were in black cocktail dresses. They were classier than the clubgoers, but they still exuded Vanessa’s brand of tasteful goth.

  “One of the instructors from the training center is supposed to be here tonight,” Roman said. “I’ll introduce you to him, and maybe he’ll have better luck talking you out of this nonsense.”

  “Training center? You mean like Quantico?”

  “Blood Vice has their own facility in Denver. If you get this interview you want so badly, the training program will be your next hurdle.”

  “How long does training take? Are there different programs for half-sireds and werewolves?”

  Roman held up a hand to quiet me. “Why don’t you save your questions for the expert?” He exited the SUV before I could argue and circled around to my side as I opened my door, offering his hand to help me out of the vehicle.

  “Thanks,” I said under my breath, feeling a little foolish for my nerves and eagerness to know all the things at once. I needed to do some breathing exercises or something if I didn’t want to scare this new source of intel off.

  Roman gave my hand a squeeze before letting it go. “I like the dress,” he said softly as if he knew I needed the reassurance. What I didn’t need were any more butterflies in my stomach.

  “I like your suit,” I said, returning his compliment with an appreciative glance.

  He grinned. “Let’s go rub some elbows.”

  “And maybe catch a serial killer.”

  Roman snorted. “Who says I don’t know how to show a girl a good time?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ladue was where all the doctors and lawyers flocked to in St. Louis. The houses were huge with ample lawns and swimming pools. If Laura hadn’t run off to be a star, I could picture her somewhere like this, maybe as a trophy wife raising a brood of spoiled children. I’d probably get a Christmas card every year that looked like a Ralph Lauren ad.

  The house where the party was taking place was a brick two-story with tall, arched windows and dark shutters. Silhouettes moved around behind gauzy curtains, and I wondered if the duke’s emissary—this friend of Vanessa’s—was human. Or maybe he slept in the basement. Perhaps there were internal shutters that sealed the place up tight. I had more questions than I knew what to do with.

  “Didn’t you say that the duke has a mansion around here?” I whispered to Roman as we headed up the long drive toward the front entrance.

  “His estate is half a mile west of here.” He dipped his head down close to my ear as we neared the door, and I caught the scent of his cologne, a smoky blend of patchouli and new leather. “Don’t forget that there will be a lot of older vampires here tonight, and many of them have exceptional hearing.”

  I nodded, silently vowing to zip my lips as he rang the doorbell. The paneled door matched the shutters, and as it slid open, light spilled out to greet us, along with a tall woman in a burgundy sheath dress. Her strawberry locks lay over one shoulder, and sharp, blue eyes twinkled as she touched Roman’s shoulder familiarly.

  “Roman! Nigel will be so glad you made it.” Her friendly smile turned to me next. “And he will absolutely want to meet your date. I’m Sara. It’s lovely to meet you.” She held her hand out, and I grasped it reflexively, taking note of the warmth of her skin and the steady thrum of her pulse. Human.

  “I’m Jenna,” I said when her eyebrows lifted expectantly. Social cues weren’t something I was good at as a human, and that clearly hadn’t improved after my death.

  “There’s a table of hors d’oeuvres in the dining room for the daywalkers,” Sara said as she led us through the foyer. “And Nigel flew in the Blood House Geishas for the evening if you’re hungry, Jenna,” she added, glancing over her shoulder at me.

  I saw Roman’s jaw flex from the corner of my eye and offered Sara a polite smile. “I’ve already eaten, but thank you.”

  She cocked her head as if surprised that I would refuse such an offer. “Suit yourself.”

  The foyer opened into a large room with vaulted ceilings and a massive fireplace. The light hardwood floors and pale walls made the space seem even bigger. A man and woman rested on a leather sofa, and another couple stood in a doorway that looked as if it led into a kitchen. They spared us a cordial glance as we joined them.

  The wall of windows that spanned the backside of the house was bare, giving a glowing view of the outside patio and the swimming pool beyond. Flower-shaped lanterns floated across the water. Guests congregated around pub tables that lined the balcony railing of the patio. I spotted a few small plates filled with finger foods and several tiny goblets of what looked to be dark wine.

  It was hard to tell what the ratio of humans to vampires might be since there were no color-coded bracelets to go by. Not that it really mattered tonight. I was well fed, and everyone here was obviously in the know. It was an attractive crowd, and they were all tastefully dressed. Aside from the alabaster skin most of them possessed that seemed out of place in the heart of summer, they appeared perfectly normal.

  “I’ll let Nigel know you’ve arrived,” Sara said, making her way toward a staircase tucked against the interior wall. “Make yourselves at home.”

  Roman brushed back the folds of his jacket and tucked his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “You can sample the Geishas if you’d like, though they serve by tap only.” He nodded at an abandoned glass on the sideboard table near the stairs.

  I wanted to ask if that really made such a difference, but I was afraid someone might overhear my neophyte question. I would have a hard enough time making conversation without exposing my vampling status, so I filed it away under things I’d pester Roman about on the ride home.

  “What’s so special about this geisha blood?” I asked instead.

  “For one, it’s organic.” Roman paused and ro
lled his shoulders. “But a lot of the elite harems are, so that’s not so special in this circle. The Blood House Geishas follow rigorous diets that flavor their blood.” Intriguing.

  “Flavor it like what?”

  Roman opened his mouth but then paused as if unsure how to answer.

  “Like sex on Sunday morning,” a deep voice boomed.

  My shoulders bunched, and I twisted around in time with Roman to find a mammoth of a man standing behind us in the opening of the foyer. His smooth head nearly grazed the arched passageway as he stepped inside the room with us, but it wasn’t until I saw him side by side with Roman that I truly grasped how tall he was.

  I couldn’t peg his race, but he wasn’t Caucasian, which, with his ashen skin tone, alerted me to the fact that he was a vampire. Of course, his comment about the geisha blood had tipped me off first. A midnight-blue suit hugged his Goliath frame, pairing nicely with a baby-blue dress shirt and a matching pocket square.

  “What’s happening, Ghostfang?” he said to Roman, reaching out to clasp hands with him before engaging in some dude-bro half-hug.

  “Ghostfang?” I blinked at Roman, enjoying the way the tips of his ears reddened.

  “A nickname he picked up at the bat cave,” the man answered for him. Then he held his hand out to me. “Well, hello there. I’m Kai.” I let him take my hand, but instead of the awkward gesture he’d performed with Roman, he turned it over and laid a soft kiss on my knuckles.

  “Jenna, this is Kai Natani, the instructor from the training center I was telling you about.” Roman cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. I couldn’t decide if he was more uncomfortable about me seeing him interact so casually with another vampire or about the way that vampire was interacting with me.

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” I said, giving Kai what I hoped was a flirty smile. “I’d love to learn more about the training program.”

  “Jenna’s thinking about applying for Blood Vice,” Roman added.