Ulysses Exposed (Blaire Thorne Book 1)

by N Gray

  “It wasn’t me, before you say it.”

  A voice from behind startled me. I jumped inside the bathroom, almost knocking Ralph over and into the bathtub. He was quick enough to stop me from falling into him and steadied my balance. I had a death grip on his left arm; everything was scaring me like my body was overly sensitive, and everything was freaking me the fuck out.

  Was I always this jumpy?

  “I did not do this.” Marcus pleaded.

  He lifted his hands like he was praying. They were shaking, his cheeks were pink, and a thick layer of sweat had beaded on his face. His shirt clung to his body, and his pupils were so large that they were all I could see from where I was standing. There wasn’t a hint of blue visible in those beady eyes.

  Ralph let go of me and walked toward Marcus.

  “What’s going on with you, Marcus? Who is that in your tub?” Ralph jabbed a finger into Marcus’s chest.

  “I told you, I was feeling ill. I am sick—really sick.” Marcus stepped backward until his legs caught against the bed and he fell onto it. Ralph moved to assist him, but Marcus waved him away. “It’s just the tablets; were-animals have a fast-acting metabolism, so any antibiotics I take needs to be strong. The ones I’m on sometimes knock me for six.”

  “Do you think it’s Shane?” Ralph pointed his thumb behind him in the direction of the tub.

  “Yeah. I’d just found him when you called earlier, and I haven’t had the stomach to move him.”

  “Since when are assassins squeamish?” I said in an accusatory tone. Who was I to throw stones—but I did, anyway. “And why didn’t you tell Ralph about it?”

  “I know how bad it looks.” He slumped his shoulders forward, looking defeated. “But trust me—I know nothing more about Shane’s disappearance than you do. Whoever put him there is just trying to frighten us.”

  Message certainly received. As I watched him, the color ran from Marcus’s face, and a faint tremor started in his hands. Maybe he was ill. If he was, he needed to see a better doctor.

  “Who have you gone to for help?” I asked. “You look like shit.”

  “Gee, thanks.” He winced and started to shake more visibly. “One of Désiré’s people helped me when she couldn’t, but I think I need to go back and get something different.” Sweat poured down his forehead, and he stood. “I have to go.”

  He darted out of his bedroom, and I heard the front door slam shut before I could protest. He might be ill, but he was still damn fast.

  I turned to Ralph, who was giving me a deadpan look, but his eyes gave something away; even he felt a little out of his depth.

  “Now what?” I asked, starting to fidget with the plaster on my left arm; it was itching.

  The more I rubbed the plaster, the more it itched. I pulled the plaster off, and black stuff began oozing out of the wound.

  “Let me see.” Ralph took my arm and lifted it up to his face. “That black stuff is killing you, Blaire. You need to see that vampire. Now.”

  I started to shake my head in protest, but Ralph was persistent. “I don’t think we have enough time to figure out who attacked you and get this curse removed,” he said. “We need to act now.” The look he gave me spoke only of fear.

  “Okay.” I took my arm away from him to look at the poison pulsing from my wound. It was time to accept that no amount of pills could combat it.

  “Let’s go see the vampire.” I said.

  CHAPTER 16

  It was after midnight before we arrived at Léon’s house. In truth, it was less a house and more a converted warehouse. It took up an entire block; a huge double story warehouse with rooms and walls that kept moving. Who devised his security for him? It was an awesome idea.

  Ralph parked near one of the first doors that we came across. It was in the same street as the alley, and something hardened in my stomach.

  I stared at the cars parked in front of us, and when I looked up, something floated through the air, smashed through the windscreen and jumped on me while something else hit me from the left-hand side and bit down.

  I jerked in the chair, hitting my head against the window and making an ‘Ah’ sound loud enough to give Ralph a fright. I felt the car rock from the movement.

  “What was that?” Ralph asked while unbuckling.

  “There were two of them, Ralph. There were two were-animals who attacked me. Not one—but two of them. The one who bit my left side was a were-wolf, and the other who tore through my left thigh—he was a were-lion.”

  The flashback was clear. I could remember watching them as they had jumped over the wall of the dark alley from the park and landed on me at the same time. There were teeth, claws and loud noises, and they had been too fast for me. Too quick for me to reach for my gun. They had removed the gun first, knowing that I would have silver bullets locked and loaded. They sliced through the leather strap of my gun holster, sending the gun flying. The impact of them landing on me at the same time had been so severe that I hit my head on the concrete and cracked my skull. I had heard that crunching sound as the bone fractured. And then I had lost consciousness for a few seconds, and in effect, lost time along with the rest of my memory. But something or someone else had stopped them or frightened them because they had jumped over that wall as quickly as they came and left me there to bleed to death.

  My door opened, and Ralph was beside me. I didn’t see him move. He was waving his hand in front of my face, asking me something, but all I could see was his lips moving. I couldn’t hear what he was saying.

  Something tore through my body and down my left arm, and I screamed. I could hear that. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing as it was coming in hard and shallow. I needed to calm down. When I opened my eyes, a grey blur clouded my vision and something big was headed our way. I wanted to warn Ralph, but my arms were led, and my mouth was too dry to say anything. The grey blur pushed Ralph out of the way and picked me up.

  I was in someone’s arms, and we were running. Fast. I tried to see if Ralph was near, but the grey cloud was still around me, the murky blanket blocking my vision.

  After everything I had gone through within a week, I was tough and seemed to handle a lot. But now that my eyesight was going, I was afraid. I thought of the black stuff inside me and how it was tearing through my veins, eating its way through me while I was still alive. I was afraid that maybe, just maybe, I would die for real, vampire mark or not.

  I heard panicked voices, people running around, and the wheels of beds being moved. The person holding me laid me gently on top of a bed, and I sank into the mattress. I felt my bones give way, and I melted into the soft cushion below. There was another grey figure that hovered over me, trying to look into my eyes with a light, but my eyes could not clearly make them out. My eyes were no longer mine. There was frantic shouting, and someone lifted my left arm to look at the wound. I heard them rip off the new plaster we had put over it—and nothing after that.

  The beep of a monitor mirroring my heartbeat told me that I wasn’t dead.

  By some miracle, someone had saved me—again. I hoped that this would be the last time anyone needed to.

  I smelt antiseptic spray and tasted it in my mouth. I moved, and someone asked if I was awake; if I was okay.

  I wiggled my toes, and they moved. My knees were next, and then I could flex my fingers and make a fist, but when I tried to lift my hands, I couldn’t. That made me open my eyes and look down at the restraints keeping my hands in place.

  “You kept pulling on the drip, so we had to restrain you.”

  I couldn’t focus on his face, but I knew the voice. Sebastian came closer and started loosening the restraints.

  “I’m glad you are awake. How do you feel?”

  “Not dead.” I tried for a joke, but nobody laughed, not even me. It wasn’t really that funny, but almost dying three times in one week was starting to sound a lot like ‘the boy who cried wolf’.

  When my hands were free, I rubbed my wrists
and found that my eyes could now focus—that grey blur had gone. I could see Sebastian clearly now, and while I focused on him, I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye.

  Ralph sat up in the chair that he had been lying on.

  “Hey, you. Welcome back to the land of the living.”

  That made me smile—his jokes were funnier than mine.

  “At least one of us is getting some beauty sleep,” I said.

  Ralph stood to my right, smiling, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “What’s wrong? The look on both of your faces is scaring me.” My heart skipped a beat, and it suddenly felt like it had dropped to my stomach. Something else must have happened while I had been out of it.

  Ralph looked at Sebastian, and then they burst out laughing. That made me smile; the asshole were messing with me.

  “Glad the two of you are getting along.”

  “I’m sorry, Blaire; I couldn’t resist.” Ralph patted my right hand and held it, squeezed it for a second and then let go. “You are going to be just fine. The curse is gone.” He looked at Sebastian again, moving his head slightly as if to tell him to finish the story.

  Sebastian said, “Once Ralph explained some of your symptoms, we realized what happened to you—and who did it.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Really? Care to share?”

  Sebastian held his breath and exhaled slowly. “It was one of the were-lions. He cheated on his girlfriend, which is never a smart move when she happens to be a witch. When she found out about it, she cursed him in the hope that whoever he was sleeping with would die. When he bit you and clawed your thigh, he passed on the curse to you, and you became infected with whatever that black stuff was.”

  “Who was it, Sebastian? I have to know who did this to me.”

  I needed to put a name to the animal that I had seen in my vision; in my memory.

  He wouldn’t look me in the eyes. “We have handled it, Blaire.” He glanced at me as he said my name. His face was stone-cold, completely devoid of emotion.

  “Dammit—tell me, Sebastian! I don’t care how you handle it, but I still need to know who cut me up and left me to die.”

  “It was Danny.”

  “Who’s Danny?” I could feel my face pull as my brows furrowed, showing my confusion.

  “Danny is Miles’s brother.”

  I wanted to ask who Miles was, but then I remembered; Miles was the were-wolf who was on Léon’s security detail—he had been accompanying Léon and Sebastian when they had found me after the attack.

  “But there were two of them, Sebastian. It wasn’t only Danny.”

  Sebastian frowned. “Danny said it was only him.”

  “Well, he’s lying. There were two of them. My memory is slowly returning, and I remember two of them jumping over the wall that separates the alley from the park and attacking me. Two of them.” I lifted my index and middle fingers to reinforce the point.

  "How do you even know it was Danny?” I asked, trying to relax against the pillow.

  “Miles brought Danny to us for help, and his girlfriend, Seraphine, was with them. Danny had black stuff coming out of his mouth—the very same black stuff as that which has been coursing through your veins—and when he thought he was going to die, he confessed to Seraphine and begged for her forgiveness. Seraphine admitted to cursing him and, therefore, anyone he made love to, bit or scratched.”

  Sebastian cleared his throat, pulled up a chair and sat down. “Mel asked Danny if he had bitten anyone, and he couldn’t answer her—or rather, he chose not to. The second time that Mel stitched you together, she noticed your blood wasn’t as red as it should be, but she didn’t really think of it again. Not until Danny came in. That’s when she called me and told me what she thought. At first, Seraphine refused to lift the curse because she wanted Danny to suffer. Then, when you arrived two hours later, we brought in Seraphine so that she could see the damage she had caused, and she immediately removed the curse. Mel put you on a drip, and that’s when you started to come around. Fortunately, there is no permanent damage, and Seraphine has asked if she can come by a bit later to apologize to you.”

  “What else did Danny say?”

  “Danny told me that he had been hired to kill you, but also that he acted alone.”

  “Who hired him to kill me? Have you been able to find out why?”

  “He didn’t want to say.”

  I raised an eyebrow. The look I gave Sebastian said that I firmly didn’t believe Danny had acted alone. It was my version of a deadpan stare, and he gave me one right back.

  “He is lying, Sebastian,” I said. ”Is Danny still alive? I want to talk to him myself.”

  “He is, but you can’t talk to him now. He is”—Sebastian waved a hand in the air while trying to think of the right word— “as you would say, being held prisoner and punished for what he has done.”

  “I don’t care what you do or who you talk to get this done, but I need to speak with him. Tonight.”

  “Not tonight, Blaire—please, not tonight,” he pleaded, and his cold eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sat back. “There’s no way you’re strong enough to have that conversation tonight.” I couldn’t decide whether he looked defeated or just tired.

  “If not tonight, then when?”

  I didn’t know what was going on, but I let it go, for now. I still wanted to talk to Danny, but Sebastian did have a point. I felt as though I had been hit by a bus, and any sort of confrontation was likely to push me past breaking point.

  “Soon, I promise.” Sebastian stood and started walking toward the door but stopped near my feet. He touched my left foot over the bedding and said, “Both of you need to stay here. No walking around. Léon is hosting some guests from out-of-town, and he’d rather you didn’t meet them.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Why can’t we meet these mystery people?”

  “They are vampires, and you are an assassin, Blaire. Not a good mix.”

  I couldn’t argue with that, but it did leave me to wonder about why they might be afraid of an assassin with no cause to harm them.

  When I didn’t respond, he said, “Please don’t leave this room. I will come back later with Seraphine.” And then he left, closing the door behind him.

  My head was spinning as I tried to make sense of the latest developments. Our target had been Léon, and the man protecting him was related to the man who had been paid to target me. Was that why I couldn’t speak to Danny—because he was Miles’s brother?

  Ralph broke the silence. “That was a bit intense,” he said, as he reached for my hand and held it. I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was intended to comfort me or him, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to disappear completely just by touching my hand and his breathing wasn’t as fast. Even the frown between his eyes were gone. “How are you really feeling?”

  “Much better.” I squeezed his hand. “You seem calmer, too.”

  “Yeah, I think that witch did something to me.”

  “What did she do?” I sat up, waiting for my head to whoosh, but it didn’t.

  Whenever there was a witch involved, things always seemed to turn to shit, so when Ralph said she had done something to him, that made me pay attention.

  “It’s nothing bad, I promise. When she saw how stressed I was over your condition, she touched my arm and said that I would feel better after you woke. I didn’t feel anything when she touched me, but the skin beneath her touch became warm.” His index finger traced along his arm to the place where, I assumed, she had touched him.

  I touched the area beside his finger and found that it was unusually warm. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked him, studying his face for any indication of discomfort, but nothing about his expression suggested that he was suffering in any way.

  He grinned. “Are you worried about little old me?” he teased, sitting on the sofa.

  I tilted my head to the side and pouted.

  CHAPTER 17
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  COMFORTABLE SILENCE FILLED the air. Ralph had begun to read a magazine to pass the time, and I could finally think more clearly. My first thought was of the realization that I was naked beneath the covers. I needed to get dressed.

  “Um, where are my clothes?” I asked.

  Ralph looked up from the magazine. “They had to cut your clothes from you when we were brought in, but Sebastian came by earlier to drop off a few items.” He went to a door on the far left of the room and opened it. Beyond the door was a tiny closet, and I could see several items of clothing hanging within.

  I was about to get up when the drip in my arm caught on the bedding. There was no way that I could get dressed with an I.V. in my arm.

  “Is there any underwear you can give me, please?”

  His smile widened. “There are at least three black pairs of matching panties and bras for you to choose from.” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you need any help climbing into them?” he said flirtatiously.

  “No, thank you. Just bring any.” I sounded angry.

  Ralph handed me a set, and I lifted the covers well above my shoulders so that only my head could be seen while I pulled on the panties with my free hand. I slipped my right arm through the right strap of the bra before I realized that I couldn’t put it on because of the drip.

  Ralph laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Let me help you.” He came around to the side of the bed and looked at the drip. “It’s almost empty. Do you just want to remove it?”

  I nodded.

  He had started pulling the plaster that kept the needle in place when the door opened. A woman entered first. She had the longest chestnut-colored hair that I had ever seen, reaching down almost to her knees. She was a similar height to me because her head was also level with Sebastian’s shoulder. He entered right behind her and closed the door. She was curvy in all the right places and wore a loose-fitting floral dress with thin straps. Her oval face was pale, and her lips and nose were thin. Her brown hair and eyebrows made her eyes appear the lightest green I had ever seen, so much so that they were translucent. She was exquisite and exotic-looking. She took my hand in both of hers.