I found myself outside in the cold, walking a good distance away from the building before my blood vision finally disengaged. My badge and phone were in the pockets of my blazer, but I’d left everything else in Roman’s SUV. I didn’t care. I couldn’t go back. If I did, I’d end up murdering Vanessa.
Her mouth is probably on his flesh right now, her fangs deep inside a vein.
The thought washed everything in red again until I pushed it away. I dug out my cell phone and dialed Collins’ number.
“How’d it go in weirdo town?” he answered on the tail end of a yawn. He was probably enjoying his time off with Laz, but I really needed him right now.
“Can you pick me up?”
“What’s wrong? Where are you?” he asked, immediately sensing the fragile note in my voice. I stole a quick glance at my surroundings.
“Forest Park. Near the university.”
“What are you doing over there? Did the Bronco finally bite the big one?” I heard him moving around in his house, probably in search of shoes and a jacket.
“I walked from the office.”
“Uh…why?” He whispered a rushed apology to Lazlo, saying that he was being called in to work. The familiar sound of his front door opening and closing followed soon after. “What the hell is going on, Skye?”
“I really, really don’t know.” I tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob.
Collins sighed, his tone going soft with understanding.
“I’ll be right there.”
Chapter Nine
“Pull.”
The machine set up beyond the open tailgate of my Bronco made a soft sputter, and two glowing, clay pigeons launched into the sky.
I followed the first with the barrel of my shotgun, squeezing the trigger as the pigeon peaked. It lit up the sky like a firecracker, sputtering out in a flash of neon streaks. I pumped the shotgun, chambering a new shell, and caught the second pigeon as it began its descent. Another colorful burst rained down on the barren field behind Collins’ grandparents’ house.
We hadn’t been out here since high school. Papaw and Nanny Collins had a hundred acres just south of St. Louis, and they were both deaf as deaf could be. With their hearing aids powered down for the night, Collins and I could fire away into the wee hours of the morning.
This was good therapy. Dr. Delph could save his mind-fuckery for the locals in Spero Heights.
Collins loaded another pair of pigeons into the target machine and then leaned against the tailgate of the Bronco where I was busy reloading my Mossberg. The shotgun had belonged to my mother. I’d inherited all of her firearms after her death.
“Feel like telling me what’s eating you now?” Collins asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his down jacket.
Shooting skeet had been his idea. I hadn’t found the words to tell him what was wrong with me during our trip across town, but he wasn’t about to drop it. He’d convinced me to dig out the shotgun and follow him into the country.
“You look like you need to shoot something,” had been his exact words. I couldn’t have agreed more.
“What happened in Spero Heights?” he tried again.
I set the shotgun on the tailgate and ran both hands over my face, pushing back the strands of hair that had escaped my ponytail. My cheeks were cold, and my lips chapped so badly that I tasted blood anytime I licked them. The witching hour in January was not for the faint of heart.
“I slept with Roman,” I confessed. Collins’ slow intake of breath was not from surprise. Until I added, “And I fed from him.”
“Jesus fuck, Skye.” He pushed away from the tailgate and ran a hand across the back of his neck. “They covered this in the human program at the bat cave, so I assumed you were warned, too.”
I chewed my bottom lip and nodded. “He’s healed up now, and he insists that Vanessa wouldn’t care if she knew we were sleeping together—”
“But I somehow doubt he’s in a big hurry to tell her,” Collins snapped. The crease along his brow grew deeper. “Vanessa would be within her rights to demand repayment in the form of blood from Mandy or me. We could be forced to pay for your crimes. You know that, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” he echoed. “Do you have any idea how helpless I feel when it comes to my own future now?”
“Collins…” My shame was already spread thin, but it stretched a little further at his words.
“I’m the bottom of the barrel as far as Blood Vice is concerned. I’m viewed as nothing more than an extension of you, and since I’m not half-sired or supernatural, I’m basically a glorified blood bag. Fang fodder—that’s what they call me behind my back.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to feel bad.” He scoffed. “But here you are, snacking on someone else’s harem—on our boss’s harem—not giving two shits about those who will suffer for your actions when I’d gladly open a vein for you. And I have, countless times.”
“Too many times.” I knew Collins had seen the results of his last physical by now.
He glared at me. “That’s no excuse. There are legitimate ways to fill the gap in your diet.”
“Yeah.” I winced at the accusation. “I’m working on it.”
“Do you know what the other agents say about you?” He was still full of venom, and I deserved every bit of it. “You realize that they think you’re the duke’s Achilles’ heel? Some suspect you’re his mistress, and others think you’re only with the agency because you’re blackmailing him. There are even worse…” His voice dropped lower, and he shot a nervous glance out across the field. The floodlights off the back of his grandparents’ house reached all the way to the shadows clinging to the tree line on the opposite side. “There are rumors that the exiled baron is dead, and that you’re to blame.”
My breath ached in my lungs, and I couldn’t find the nerve to lie to Collins’ face. I stared at him, knowing each second that passed was another nail in my coffin.
“Are you, Skye?” he whispered. “Is Blood Vice just a convenient resource to help you pick off your next royal target?” I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or just mocking me now.
“I saved the queen’s life,” I reminded him.
“Something tells me you wouldn’t extend that same courtesy to Scarlett or Ursula.” He swallowed and looked out over the field again. “And if you’re in this mess as deep as I think you are, where does that leave me, your fragile, expendable blood slave?”
“Collins, that’s not what you are to me, and you know it.” I sighed and reached into the bed of the Bronco to grab my shotgun case. I didn’t feel like shooting anymore. I felt like being shot. Maybe that would sap out some of this guilt weighing me down.
“I can’t speak for Mandy, but your stunt with Roman puts her in the line of fire, too.” Collins gave me a hard look. “She deserves to know that.”
“Yeah.” I snorted. “I’ll be sure to drop that bomb on her just as soon as she gets back from her camping trip.”
Collins gathered up the box of pigeons and carried it over to his Toyota. After he’d packed up the machine and I’d picked up the spent shells littering the ground, he met me at the tailgate of the Bronco again.
“I don’t know if you heard or not,” he said, looking only slightly less vindictive. “Patz is retiring in March.”
Patz was the killjoy sergeant who ran the patrol division Collins and I had both served on. It seemed an odd thing to suddenly bring up. It wasn’t like we’d be getting invitations to the retirement party.
“So?” I said.
Collins shrugged. “Ramirez will be filling his spot. We talked about it over Christmas, and he asked if I’d ever consider coming back. Said he could hook me up with dayshift.”
“Oh.” Guilt sucker-punched me again.
Joining Blood Vice with me hadn’t done Collins’ home
life any favors. The three months in Denver had put enough strain on his marriage. Add in the nightshift he’d begun working once we returned, and it was no wonder Lazlo’s brother was throwing Collins a bone.
“Maybe you should take him up on that,” I said, praying my sincerity came through more than my bitterness. “I’m dangerous to be around. I get it, really—”
“You make yourself dangerous to be around,” Collins said. He gave me a pitying look, but he wasn’t pulling any punches tonight. “You always have. It pushes people away—people who care about you. I’m trying so hard to be a good friend, but you don’t make it easy.”
“I know. I know.”
There was nothing else I could offer. I thought we’d come out here so I could get something off my chest, but it looked like Collins was just as badly in need of that. And he was a good friend—a far better friend than I’d been in return.
What was I doing with my life? The question felt like one I’d been trying to answer ever since my mother died. For the longest time, I was positive I wanted to be just like her. But I was so far off that path now. That life was over.
Collins turned away from me and circled the Toyota to the driver’s side without saying goodbye. He wasn’t exactly storming off, but he wasn’t taking back anything he’d said either. He meant it all. And now that he’d spoken his piece, only a hollow sadness remained between us.
I swallowed and blinked away a tear, blaming it on the cold wind sweeping across the field. Then I climbed inside the Bronco and went home.
* * * * *
Mandy wouldn’t be returning from her camping trip until Thursday morning. I’d lived alone in my house for nearly ten years before she came crashing into my world, and now I could hardly stand the silence when she wasn’t around.
But silence wasn’t something I had to worry about tonight, I realized as I pulled into my driveway and spotted Roman’s SUV parked at the curb. He sat on the front steps of my porch, arms folded over his knees.
“What are you doing here?” I slammed the door of the Bronco and took a few careful steps in his direction. Maybe this would be easier if I didn’t stand so close to him.
Roman nodded behind him at my duffel bag, resting in the wicker chair under the porch light. “You forgot your overnight bag.” The reply sounded innocent enough, but when he stood and moved toward me, I froze in the middle of the sidewalk. Roman paused and gave me a peculiar look.
“Thanks.” My throat went dry before I could add “goodnight.” That would have been the right thing to say to him.
My eyes fixed on the side of Roman’s neck where I’d bitten him the night before. I wondered if Vanessa had chosen the same spot or somewhere else. There were so many succulent stretches of skin to choose from. My mouth had found them all, taking inventory for future reference—as if we had a future.
Shame touched Roman’s cheeks as he realized where and why I was staring. He rolled his head to one side, popping his neck, and then cleared his throat.
“I’ve been waiting awhile. Where were you?” An unmistakable note of jealousy stained his voice.
“With Collins.” I didn’t have it in me to lie to him.
Making Roman as ugly jealous as I was wouldn’t help anything, and this wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t just leave Vanessa. It was part of his contract with Blood Vice. And if she stopped anointing him, it wasn’t like I could take over that responsibility. Not legally. It would be at least another fifty years before House Lilith would even consider letting me half-sire a human donor.
There was a healthy chance that Roman was right and Vanessa would, in fact, not care that we had slept together. Or, at least, she wouldn’t care enough to kill us over it. In some strange act of generosity or gratitude, say, maybe if we managed to find Ursula, I could even see her giving us her blessing.
But one thing she would never condone was Roman giving his blood to me. And even more than sex, that’s what I wanted from him. I could tell that’s what he wanted from me, too. After our latest tryst, how could we settle for anything less?
There was no way this could go on without us breaking the rules, but the fact that we’d broken so many already and had gotten away with it made us bold. I was well aware of that. From my earliest missteps as a rogue vampling to my carefully constructed sire cover-up. But our luck had to run out at some point.
“That was a good lead you came up with tonight,” Roman said, breaking the awkward silence.
“Yeah, we’ll see.”
“Mandy home?” He glanced up at the darkened front window.
“Not for another day.”
“Four hours till sunrise.”
My breath rushed out. “And?”
“And?” Roman laughed and gave me a wry grin. “What do you think?”
“I think you shouldn’t be offering up your blood twice in one night, and certainly not right before we have a date with a pack of wild dogs.” I stepped into the lawn and darted around him, heading for the porch, but he caught my wrist.
“What if we skip the blood?” he asked, strain tightening his voice.
“I don’t think I can do that.” I shook my head. “It’s a bad idea.”
I thought of the blood I’d had earlier in the evening at Hotshots. It was enough to keep me going, just like Mandy and Collins kept me going, but that hunger was always there. The only time it had come close to being satisfied was at the bat cave when I’d had four donors working in rotation.
“What if I tie you up?” Roman asked next. “What if you were to drink a cup from one of your harem first?”
“What if, what if, what if.” I sighed, trying to add more solution to our problem than resistance. “What if we wait until this case pans out? What if we wait until I have a third or fourth donor?”
Roman’s grip on my wrist tightened at the mention of adding donors. “What about that woman you drank from at Bleeders?”
“What about her?”
“She seemed nice,” he said. “You could solicit her—though she was a little excitable. Maybe she’d be willing to bleed in a cup like Mandy and Collins.”
“Do you bleed in a cup for Vanessa?” I asked, unable to hide my irritation.
“I would if she’d accept that.” He tugged at my wrist, pulling me around to face him. “You know I would.”
I sighed and closed my eyes. “We can’t do this right now. It’s too risky, and I have to think about Mandy and Collins. I can’t be selfish.”
Roman’s hands slid up my arms, and he panted out a heavy breath as he leaned into me. “I’ll sneak you into Bleeders. Tonight. You can have your fill, and then I’ll tie you to the bed.” His mouth brushed my temple and then dipped down to the top of one ear.
“This is ridiculous,” I hissed at him, unable to hide the smile creeping over my face. “I can’t go to Bleeders. I’m on the blacklist. Even if the guards don’t spot me, Lydia will, and she’s in enough trouble because of me as it is—” I sucked in a ragged breath and nudged Roman away. “Lydia.”
“Try lover,” he said, pulling me closer, but I kept a firm hand on his chest.
“She said I wasn’t the only one looking for Scarlett.” I blinked at Roman.
“I’m sure the agents assigned to the case didn’t overlook Bleeders.”
“She said it wasn’t Blood Vice.”
Roman finally stopped fondling me long enough to consider what I’d said. “You think…?”
“What if Annie is the same scout Ursula sent to look for Scarlett?” I asked.
“And what if she stopped in at Bleeders along the way?”
My hands softened on his chest now that I didn’t have to fend him off. He valued his career, too. Probably even more than I did. He wouldn’t let a viable lead rot over our personal turmoil.
“Blood Vice hacked Bleeders’ security footage last summer,” I said. “Think we could do that again?”
“And scour through it for motorcycle Annie?” Roman frowned. “That could take some tim
e.”
“What do we have to lose? You know, besides everything.”
Chapter Ten
The image we had of Annie from the gas station wasn’t spectacular, but it was clear enough to get an objective look at her. She was attractive. In a normal, dismissible way.
Her brunette hair hung in soft waves just past her jawline, and snug jeans served to draw more attention to her ass than her face. At least a thousand women who could have passed for her came in and out of Bleeders every night. Seven nights a week.
The security feed Blood Vice’s tech team hacked into only went back three weeks. We could start there, but anything beyond that would require a warrant—or a more elaborate heist than we had time for.
As it was, we hadn’t even called Vanessa to tell her about this new, shot-in-the-dark lead we were pursuing. She was still at her meeting with the duke, for which I was glad. I wasn’t ready to face her yet. Not after how much effort it had taken to get away from her earlier without going off like an atomic bomb.
The building Blood Vice worked out of in St. Louis was fairly small. Vanessa had a nice corner office, but the dozen or so units that worked under her roof hardly had a square of cubical space each to call their own. It was a matter of security rather than budget restraints, and the SUVs with all the bells and whistles mostly made up for it.
There was a swanky tech lab on the opposite side of the building from Vanessa’s office, with the sad cubical floor spanning between the two. A supernatural morgue and an evidence lab took up most of the basement, all except for two quarantine holding cells tucked behind the stairwell. They were soundproof and reinforced with concrete that had been mixed through with silver. If a special guest attempted to punch their way through a wall, they wouldn’t make it far before passing out from the toxic dust.
A vampire named Phil let Roman and me into the tech lab. It was a quiet space I’d never seen occupied by more than an agent or two at a time. Tonight, it was just Phil. He set us up at a pair of widescreen computers and gave a quick crash course on how to work the video controls. Then he tapped into Bleeders’ security network.
Blood Vice (Book 4): Blood Dolls Page 8