Blood Trouble

by Connie Suttle

  * * *

  "Bill," I did my best to smile at him—he'd stayed up late again to pick me up at the airport.

  "Breanne," his smile was genuine. Opal stood at his shoulder, and she offered me a grin. I hugged both of them.

  Bill and Opal sat with me while I ate a late dinner at the hotel restaurant. Our goal for the following morning was to sniff around Austin. The bodies found in the city had been spread around—and not in the sewers, this time. This killer was getting creative, which worried me. Generally that's how a Sirenali's obsession worked—that their victims would find new and creative ways to please the one they now saw as their master.

  Six bodies of young, college-age women had been found in four locations—a mall parking lot late at night, a hotel basement, the roof of a bookstore and the front steps of a local restaurant. Nobody saw anything, and the bodies were dumped without any security cameras catching the criminal. A vampire could move fast enough if he were motivated.

  "I'll show you the footage tomorrow," Bill said. "Get some rest. Both of you," he nodded to Opal and me.

  "Thanks, Bill," I nodded to him. "Goodnight."

  * * *

  Bree, the first text from Hank read, I want to talk to you. Soon.

  Breanne, do you think to walk away with no word?

  Breanne, this is ridiculous. That text was from Jayson. When you get back, we'll discuss this. My comment was merely to catch your attention and let you know we need to work this out. Jayson was lucky I was so tired and out of sorts, because I wanted to fold space, punch him in the mouth and fold back to Austin.

  Breanne, my arms are empty and my heart hurts tonight. Hank's last message made me cry.

  "Baby?" Hank answered on the first ring. I was a blubbering mess as I attempted to speak.

  "You're tired, baby. Stop crying and go to sleep," Hank soothed when I couldn't get a coherent word past my teeth. Eventually, after much coaxing, I did as he asked, ended the call and went to bed.

  * * *

  Lissa's Journal

  These dunes were twice as tall as I was and they were everywhere. Rigo, Gavin, my Falchani twins, Aryn, Flavio and Roff had come with me. The entire planet had been emptied in minutes—no flayed bodies were left behind, just as it had been for Yigga Prison. Those prisoners—ten thousand of them—had attacked Gedes. Evensun held more than half a million. I shuddered to think of the damage that many armed criminals might create.

  * * *

  "I am your god," he announced to the energy clothed in newly acquired, humanoid bodies standing before him. "You will submit to me and to those I designate under my command. Your new body will allow you to interfere in any way you see fit. Bear in mind that if your body dies, you will still live. I will present you with another body quickly, so that you may serve me. In the coming days, you will be taught what you must know to obey me swiftly and without question, in all I command. Follow me faithfully and we will rule all."

  * * *

  Breanne's Journal

  Caffeine. Lots of it. And still I looked as if I'd been dragged across most of Texas and then dumped (unhappily) in a pile of prickly pear. It's funny how Texas comes out in you when you're in Texas. Poor Opal was curious but determined not to ask what had happened after I'd gone to my room the night before.

  "What are we looking for?" I asked. I'd probably asked that already, but forgot that I'd asked. That's what kind of day it was.

  "So far, all six girls have been taken from the same campus," Opal slipped a folder in my direction at the breakfast table. Bill was supposed to join us, but I had the feeling he'd been caught up in phone calls or emails. Opal told me which campus while my eyes attempted to lose focus again.

  "Sugar, are you sure you only want eggs and fruit?" This waitress couldn't grasp the concept of vegetarianism and figured I just wasn't normal, somehow. I wanted to tell her that being vegetarian was the most normal thing about me.

  "Yes, thank you," I replied as politely as I could. She shuffled away to turn in our order.

  * * *

  "You ever gonna drive this thing again?" Trace settled on the passenger side of the ancient, red Cadillac and shut the door. Ashe sat in the driver's seat, a wrist draped over the steering wheel and stared at the grove around him. The Cadillac rested beneath a canopy in the middle of SouthStar's groves and was kept in stasis to prevent deterioration.

  "I've thought about it," Ashe sighed. "This used to belong to Lissa's human husband. I've thought about giving it to her, but have no idea what her reaction might be. I think she used to tease her husband about getting rid of it."

  "How could she do that? It's a classic."

  "I know, but not everybody appreciates vintage automobiles. Maybe I'll give it to Winkler, and let him decide."

  "I'd miss it if it weren't here," Trace said.

  "Yeah. Me too, Trace, me, too."

  * * *

  Breanne's Journal

  "Coffee?" Bill arrived and so did the waitress.

  Bill had a menu in his hand and coffee at his elbow quickly. He looked important—Opal and I were dressed in jeans so we could work and didn't look so important. And we weren't male, another minus in our camp.

  "Breanne, if you need something to help you sleep," Bill murmured when the waitress walked away.

  "I'll be okay," I said and lifted my fork—I needed the protein in the eggs, otherwise I would have settled for fruit and let it go.

  "Then stop working before six tonight and get some sleep," Bill commanded.

  * * *

  "She never got back with me," Jayson grumbled. He and Hank were trading blows in a Los Angeles gym before Hank flew home. Most of Hank's punches were connecting. Jayson's weren't.

  "Next time, keep your fucking mouth shut," Hank punched Jayson hard, throwing him off guard. "Don't you know the first thing about a relationship, or are you just too damned used to everybody bowing and scraping? If you are, lose that fast around Breanne. One of these days, you'll be sorry if you don't."

  "Fine."

  "I mean it."

  "I said okay."

  "We need to talk, too, Rome."

  "About what?"

  "About Bree getting called in shortly after college girls started disappearing in D.C. and Austin."

  "Are you fucking kidding me?" Jayson stopped moving and stared at Hank in surprise.

  * * *

  Breanne's Journal

  "I got a scent," I muttered as Opal and I sniffed around the rooftop of a local bookstore.

  She stood near the markers where the body had been found. There was little blood, so the girl had died elsewhere and was merely left here.

  "Murders two days apart, like clockwork," Opal pointed out.

  "Do the abductions coincide with the murders?" I asked.

  "Hours apart," She nodded, pushing long, dark hair behind an ear and staring at the roof where the body had lain for hours before its discovery.

  "So the vamp has to drink every other day," I said. "You think he's getting bagged stuff or drinking from a donor?"

  "It ought to be an unwilling donor, at least at first," Opal huffed.

  "Agreed. I can't imagine too many women offering blood to a serial killer."

  "We've talked to possible witnesses. Nobody remembers anything," Opal said.

  "Did you take anybody of the fanged variety to ask?" I lifted an eyebrow in Opal's direction. She'd been staring at the roof beneath our feet, but raised her head to blink at me when I asked the question.

  "No—Bill didn't bring anybody—said if we had you, we wouldn't need 'em."

  "True. How hard will it be to introduce me to a likely candidate?"

  "Not hard. One of the girls had a roommate and she's very upset. Said she'd do anything to help catch the killer. I'll call Bill and ask him to schedule an interview. It may be tomorrow morning before she goes to work—she has a part-time retail job through the holidays."

  "That's fine. Maybe I can wake up by then," I sighed. "I probably need more
coffee, too."

  "Man trouble?"

  "I guess."

  "Is he worth it?"

  "Jury's still out."

  "Don't let him hurt you."

  I didn't tell her it was too late for that. Much too late. Jayson had effectively removed himself from the running, in my opinion, but his mother was still fragile. I wanted to huddle in a corner and wait for my inner trembling to go away on that score.

  I wanted to trust Hank. Really. I just didn't want any more surprises on that front. Yes, there were some things I wasn't telling him but honestly, what could happen if I walked in, sat beside him, told him I wasn't just the Vhanaraszh (after explaining what that was), but also a Q'elindi and possibly a god? I could hear the phone call to the psychiatrist in my head. I could say good-bye to Hank, too, while that was happening.

  * * *

  "Here's the manuscript. I took the liberty of having it edited while I wrote the rest," Ross Gideon handed a thick folder to James Rome, Sr. "How's your wife? I heard it was a close call. I've never seen Kathleen go down like that."

  "I think she finally had Jayson tailed," the elder Rome grumbled.

  "Found out what the boy was into, did she?"

  "Probably."

  "What about the girl?" Ross tapped the edge of the folder he'd handed to James Rome.

  "Just a front, to make his mother happy. She'll disappear soon enough when this book is released. Has it been sent to the press?"

  "Yeah. They know to give it top priority. We can have limited release in less than ten days, and my guess is we'll be flooded with orders after the first day. Does it bother you about the girl? She wasn't aware of this project when she signed that release."

  "The girl is nothing. Joyce Christian is everything. We're gonna take her reputation down. I don't care if she is dead—too many people still idolize her and are too ready to quote her garbage. Any new leads on the other two kids? The ones who didn't make it?"

  "I have my investigator snooping around the property, but he can't get too far in without risking arrest for trespassing."

  "Too bad. I'd like to point out graves to the authorities just before the book's release, but if we can't, then they'll go in after the evidence is presented. I have no idea how that information was hidden for so long."

  "Joyce had a lot of people under her thumb, and they were afraid to talk. Too bad that sheriff committed suicide two days ago. We might have gotten more information from him."

  "I think he realized how fast we were moving on this and decided not to stick around. He was dying anyway, and in a lot of pain."

  "I can't believe the girl isn't scarred and crippled from all that."

  "Maybe she is. Maybe we just can't see it."

  * * *

  "Mom?" Jayson carried a vase of flowers into Kathleen Rome's hospital room.

  "Jayson?" Kathleen was pale and her voice trembled slightly as her youngest approached her bedside and set the vase on a side table. "Where's Breanne? She saved my life. The doctor told me and your father this morning that if she hadn't gotten me here so fast, I might not have made it."

  "Bree got called out on assignment." Jayson didn't look happy.

  "For Mercy Crossings?"

  "No. Looks like Barry Stokes is lending her to the government at times. She's in Austin. Hank and I noticed that some college girls have come up missing there, just like in San Francisco and D.C. We also noticed that Bree was in D.C. when things were happening there."

  "She was in Frisco, too, wasn't she? You think she's involved in any of that?"

  "Not involved in the crime, no. The crimes in D.C. stopped after she was called in. I have her on that stalker app—I know she wasn't there until after those girls were murdered, and then when Bree went, the murders stopped. I have one of my investigative reporters on that, now. Bree got a call after girls started dying in Austin. She's involved in the investigations somehow, and Hank and I are scared to death."

  Kathleen breathed a shaky sigh and brushed a trembling hand over her eyes. "Jayson, you can stop pretending, now," she whispered. "I know where you were on Sunday. I asked Dan to tail you. I know about Hank's business, too—it's public record. Stop pretending you care about that girl. I think it upsets her. I have no idea what you did to make her come to the anniversary party, but in retrospect, I know she didn't want to be there. I'd like to keep her as a friend, so don't be an ass."

  "You know?" Jayson hadn't gotten past his mother's admission.

  "Baby, I do know. I hoped it was a passing interest, but I see that you're getting more into it. I hope this is what you want, honey, although it worries me."

  "Damn," Jayson combed fingers through his hair and turned away to stare out his mother's hospital window. "Mom, I kind of do like Breanne, although she isn't," Jayson didn't finish.

  "I don't think she ever will be, hon. People are different. I've had to accept that. Let them be different, Jayson. Don't force them into your mold. I'm having to do that with my own son, after all."

  "Yeah." Jayson rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

  "You think Breanne's in danger, don't you?"

  "Mom, she was in Somalia when that sandstorm hit."

  "Are you joking? How did you find that out?"

  "Hank."

  "How much does he care about her?"

  "You know?"

  "I see it every time he looks at her. A woman always knows, honey."

  "Mom, I like Bree. I do. I don't compare to Hank, though."

  "Is he—does he?"

  "He won't do a damn thing his partner doesn't want, and I don't know how he has that much control," Jayson muttered.

  "Thank God," Kathleen said. "I was worried after I heard what his business was."

  "As of now, Breanne owns half of it, although she didn't know what she was investing in at first," Jayson admitted. "She keeps trying to give her interest to Hank so she can walk away. He won't let her."

  "He doesn't want to lose her."

  "Look, Mom, would it make any difference to you if I said the same thing? No, I won't ever give up some things, but Bree keeps me on my toes and doesn't let me get away with much. It's different. Certainly not what I'm used to."

  "She has to have something, to deal with people like she met in South Sudan."

  "Yeah. You're right about that. There's vulnerability there, too, and I can't figure that out."

  "Jayson, every woman is vulnerable in some way. You just have to discover what it is and make sure you protect her from it."

  "Mom, we've never really talked like this."

  "Hon, I've never gotten this close to dying before."

  Chapter 15

  Lissa's Journal

  "We're waiting for the shoe to drop." Cleo and Kyler sat with me in the arboretum after a tedious day in a Council meeting. Everybody was on edge, ever since Ildevar decided not to keep the information regarding Evensun from the Alliances.

  The news services all had a field day at first, blaming everybody and pointing fingers, until it finally hit home. The attack on Gedes. The destruction of a quarter of Targis. The sandstorm that emptied Yigga Prison. Some were even pointing to the anomalies indicating the sandstorms on the Dark Realm worlds.

  Everybody was scared, now, and jumping at the slightest noise. Gavin and my Falchani twins had taken precautionary measures, but it was likely to keep the guards and army focused, rather than allow them to dwell on the reality that they held absolutely no power against what might come.

  "Meligar says even the Larentii are holding their breath," Kyler sighed. My nieces and I stared through the huge, glass windows of my arboretum at the twinkling city of Lissia below us.

  "None of us can Look to see anything," Cleo agreed.

  "Ildevar says the Telling Winds have gone berserk," I offered. "That's why Looking doesn't work—everything is in flux. Connegar says Conner told him it's as if all the doors to all the timelines have blown open, and no single path is more logical than another."

 
; "They're waiting for something," Kyler nodded carefully. "Some small sign, maybe, before they tip their hand."

  "But what about the Three—have they come together?" Cleo leaned forward and held out a hand, palm up.

  "Ashe says no," I whispered. "What if that's what everybody thinks, so they're looking to make a widespread attack? If the Three come together for the first time, they may not know which way to go first. Or, if they don't come together, so much could be destroyed we may not survive anyway. It's a preemptive strike, I think."

  "How can you battle an enemy you can't find or identify?" Kyler shivered. "I saw those anomaly maps. In the Dark Realm, they followed a pattern, likely to trap somebody."

  "They trapped Belen, and he says somebody powerful released him, but either he doesn't know who or he isn't saying. It makes sense that if it's one of the Three, the enemy was looking for them and their power signature. If it's the same one who saved Targis, they really have a power signature now." I hugged myself.

  At that moment, I wished Rigo were with me. As an ancient vampire and an accomplished diplomat before that, he always knew how to calm the situation. He was communicating with his spy network instead, asking for reports on unusual activities and such, so he could bring information to me.

  Erland and Ry sent a dozen extra warlocks to Campiaa to protect Gavril, too, but they had their own kingdom to guard. I had no idea what more warlocks might do against an enemy we couldn't track the moment they finished an attack—that's what we'd learned after all the sandstorms in the Dark Realm and the one in Yigga. The power disappeared as if it had never been.

  "Where is Breanne?" Cleo asked.

  "I don't know." Two and a half months had passed since she'd brought me back from death and subsequently there'd been two brief sightings of her. Granted, the one on Tulgalan had been the briefest, but yielded the most dramatic results. That had taken power on a scale I'd never seen before. Yes, I'd moved planets, but Changing What Was is a different thing altogether and something I might never fathom.

  "I wonder if time might move differently for her or for the Three," Cleo mused.

  "If it moves differently for the Three, then it moves differently for my sister," I said softly.