Blood Legacy: Adult Urban Fantasy (The V V Inn Book 5)

by C. J. Ellisson

  It’ll be good to see them both again. I stifle the old urges threatening to burst through my carefully constructed mental walls, content for once with the platonic, but loving relationship, the three of us now have. And then there’s Candy. My pants get tight as my mind drifts to smacking the shifter’s tight butt.

  My hands itch to yank my zipper down and pleasure myself on our memories. What the hell? Why not? The sound of the zipper rasping down in the dark cabin forces more blood to my heated flesh. Might as well enjoy the rest of the flight.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Vivian

  Even though I missed my husband while I was on the island and he was here in the city, today proved that some days we need a mental break from each other. He knew I was annoyed and frustrated last night, and he gave me the space I needed. Today he worked on the new house while I slept, not revealing any details to me when he returned. The sneaky bugger.

  He woke me before sunset and we made love again. The tension between us earlier has vanished. I’m not sure if its removal was due to pent up testosterone, but it could be. Rafe is smiling like a Cheshire cat. Could be the small sips of blood he took from me at the end, but I rather think he’s just in a more mellow mood after an explosive orgasm.

  After a short drive, we’re lounging in the hangar, waiting for Jon’s plane to arrive.

  “I miss him,” Rafe says, a tinge of shock in his voice.

  “And why is that surprising? He’s been with us a long time and before this trip, we’d rarely go two days without seeing him. This month-long separation has been hard for all of us.”

  “I bet he won’t feel the same. I think he’s been having his own private ‘Vivian-free Vacation’ without you.”

  The grin on my lover’s face doesn’t amuse me. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean? I wanted him to have time without me. He deserved it. He needed time that was his own. To find someone he can share his heart with.”

  “Ahh... but will you let him find love?”

  “I wish both of you would give me more credit. I’m not some sniveling teenager filled with angst, living in some misdirected love triangle.” The immature tone in my voice sounds like I should be stomping my foot in emphasis. Yeah, that’s sad. “I want him happy.”

  “Yeah, just not as happy as he is with you, right?”

  “I resent that. He’s with me because he has to be. Because he pledged himself to me. He’s happy because I work hard to make him happy. That’s not the same as being happy on your own.” I slump in my chair, annoyed Rafe is badgering me about this right now. “Do you doubt my sincerity? Do you think I want him pining after me forever?”

  “No,” he says softly, drawing me into his arms. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. And I’m sorry I’ve brought this topic up so poorly. I’m concerned with how you will react when he chooses a mate.”

  “Hmph.” I glare at him, the desired effect lost because I can’t stay mad at him when I’ve missed him and every other thought in my head turns to tearing his clothes off for more sex. “I think I’ll surprise you both when he finds a mate.”

  “We’ll see.”

  The topic is thankfully dropped and I quiz him about the properties he’s purchased. They all sound like suitable choices and I’m excited to finally see one tonight.

  “I spent all day preparing the first place. It’s the one nearest to Justin’s house, too.”

  I nod to indicate I’m listening, but I’m more interested in the arrival of Jon’s plane. The attendant knocks on the door, alerting us the time is now.

  I bounce out of my seat and stride toward the door, glancing back over my shoulder at my husband. He shakes his head at my exuberance and joins me. The hangar is windy, the engines stirring up the air, sending my long hair flying around me.

  In a few minutes, Jon leaves the sleek jet. His shorter, stockier body a sight for sore eyes.

  “Jon!” I quickly close the distance between us, and wrap my arms around him in a big hug. His arms come around my waist and a deep sigh releases from his chest. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Same here,” he mumbles. He pulls back from my embrace, a crooked grin on his face. “‘Bout time you two came to your senses and sent for me.” He winks at Rafe rather than his regular glare, which is what I thought he was going to do after the mild rebuke.

  Rafe pats him on the back. “Yeah, well, we can’t get what we want all the time. How is everyone back home?”

  Jon looks away and then back to my husband. “Good, good. You know what’s going on from talking to Asa and me earlier.”

  I sense there’s much he’s not telling us, right below his surface thoughts, and do my best to not rifle through his private musings to find out what he’s not sharing. I set up the big game hunt with available women last month for a reason. I’ll be damned if I muck it up by pumping him for details when he obviously wants to keep what occurred private.

  “Nothing new to share?” Rafe presses, much to my dismay. If he was standing closer I’d kick him. Guys are shitty with subtlety.

  “If there was, wouldn’t I tell you?” There’s a glint of challenge in Jon’s eye. Not of one man challenging another for top-dog spot, like these two normally do, but more of a goad to see if Rafe or I can discover news on our own.

  “Enough, you two.” I let go of my right hand man with reluctance, wanting nothing more than to snuggle up to his neck and take a deep breath. His scent and Rafe’s have a calming effect on me, rooting me to the here and now despite whatever worry may be weighing on me. “You must be hungry after the long flight. I know Rafe is. How about we get a meal and catch up on what’s going on?”

  “Sounds fine with me.” Jon grabs his large duffle from the attendant and follows Rafe to the rear door leading outside.

  We climb into Rafe’s new car, a low whistle from Jon indicating his approval. “Sweet. This is one ride you could never have back home.”

  Rafe grins, pure male satisfaction showing on his face. “Don’t I know it. I’m sure it will stay here when we leave. The house I’ll take us to later has a small garage in the back.”

  We cruise through the dark streets of the city, making our way to a favorite tapas house. Before long, we’re seated at a secluded table, placing our orders for mountains of tiny plates of food.

  Rafe orders an expensive red wine, an air of celebration wafting from the larger man. When we all hold a filled glass and the waiter has left, he lifts his in a toast. “To Jon. I know I don’t always act the best, and often goad you on purpose, but there’s no man I’d rather have by our side than you.”

  Jon blushes, unused to praise from my husband. “Thanks, man.” A touch of the mischievous Were leaks through. “Too bad you had to fight to the death—not once, but several times—to realize it.”

  Rafe doesn’t rise to the jab, but nods solemnly. “I’m no stranger to killing when I have to, but you’re exactly right. I swear to refrain from wanting to beat you to a pulp if you can refrain from lusting after my wife.”

  Jon looks him dead in the eye and returns his nod. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  “Good!” I break in cheerily, eager to get off this subject. “Let’s get down to business. Rafe has purchased several private residences for us, and assured me they’re all secure.” I look toward him for confirmation.

  “Like I said, I’ll take you to the first one after we eat. The others can wait ’til we need them. I even bought one with property backing to a park, in case you needed to run.” Rafe looks to Jon on the last comment, seeing the surprise on the younger man’s face. “The house we’re staying at tonight is nice. It’s small, centrally located, and not far from Justin’s place.”

  “Furniture?” Jon asks, avoiding commenting on Rafe’s thoughtfulness with the property near the park. Typical guy. I run my hand over my husband’s thigh, pleased he made an effort.

  “It came fully furnished, but I did purchase and build new items for the basement.”

&n
bsp; Jon raises one eyebrow. “Build? You bought furniture you had to build? Like Ikea?”

  Rafe smiles and nods. “You’ll understand when you see the place.”

  Our food arrives and the men dig in. I sip my wine, peace settling over me. It feels good to have the three of us together once more. My gaze settles on my husband. I can’t wait to get him home and naked again. The hunger within me hasn’t been satiated yet. Which of course, was delayed by my anger and frustration last night.

  I hate this feeling of no control, reacting to stress and problems instead of being the one pulling all the strings. It’s unsettling. And no amount of exercise or avoidance will make the feeling go away.

  A television over the nearby bar draws my attention. The news is on and a gruesome report of another murder flashes across the large flat screen. Makes me glad we don’t have such depressing local news in Alaska. The only people dying near us are usually on our property.

  The announcer is speaking Spanish, and thankfully, all of us are fluent. Jon learned the first season we journeyed here with him over seven years ago.

  The men continue eating, but I can tell by the shift in energy that they’re listening to the news as well.

  Jon speaks as the cameras cut to another view, “I read about another murder last night on the plane. A young woman beaten to death. Sounds like an intimate crime, you know, like the killer knew her.”

  Rafe nods. “We saw that on the hotel television last night, too.”

  The female announcer’s dulcet tones carry clearly from the bar, and thanks to our supernatural hearing, we don’t miss a word. “This recent killing appears to be an animal attack, although the medical examiner has not determined the type of animal, or if there may have been more than one animal. The identity of the victim has not been revealed at this time. We should have more details later, after the family has been notified.”

  “Should we be worried?” Jon asks. “A vicious animal attack? The details sound sketchy at best. What type of animal in a city could do the type of damage needed to kill? A big, rabid dog?” He shoves more food in, chewing with a contemplative look on his face. “There aren’t any shifters in Argentina except werewolves, are there?”

  Rafe shakes his head. “Not that I know of—and we’ve been traveling here for over fifty years. I think we’d have heard chatter of another species moving in, wouldn’t you?” He directs the last question toward me.

  My brow wrinkles, uncomfortable with the implications of a savage animal attack in a large cosmopolitan city. “At the very least, you’d think the masters of the city would know. Maybe it will turn out to be an escaped animal from the zoo.”

  The news segment cuts to the weather and our attention returns to the table. Rafe reaches for another small plate of food. “I’m sure the Tribunal will have their thumb on the pulse of the matter shortly. You know how they are regarding supernatural activity in ‘their’ city.” He uncharacteristically uses air quotes when speaking to show his emphasis. “Or you could go back and question Persephone again. It worked so well the first time.”

  I stiffen my spine at his dig, pulling my hand from his thigh. And this is the man I want to have sex with later? “Hey. I did learn something. It wasn’t a total waste of time.”

  Jon finishes his next small plate and says, “Hold up, now. Am I hearing this right—you went straight to the Tribunal already, without me? What the hell?”

  Rafe nods. “And now you see what I’m dealing with. Very little regard for planning or safety. Just jumps right in whenever she sees fit. Drives me crazy.”

  I scowl at my husband, noticing the commiserating look of understanding on Jon’s face at the same time. Bastards. If they weren’t on the same side and being agreeable with each other, I’d blast them into eternity with a scathing reply. “I learned that Persephone is lying to me. She does know where Rolando is, and she does know what they asked me during the interrogation.”

  “How?” Rafe asks. “She never revealed the info directly.”

  “Because she harped on the question too much—and if the video was of decent enough quality, she’d have been able to read their lips.”

  Jon responds before Rafe can, picking up his beer before speaking. “That’s a big assumption you’re making—like if the camera had the right angle, if the lighting was good enough, if they were facing the camera when they grilled you. I dunno. Lots of ‘ifs’ in there.”

  “And how did you logically draw the conclusion that she knew where Rolando was, too?” asks Rafe.

  I shrug one shoulder and take a sip from my wine, wishing it had blood mixed in. “They’re close, and have been for years. Call it a hunch.”

  The two exchange a glance and don’t say anything else. I have a feeling they think my hunch is a bunch of crap. Fine. Nothing new with the two of them doubting my instincts.

  Jon sets down his now empty beer glass and turns to Rafe. “What did you learn while staking out the Tribunal?”

  A grimace appears and disappears quickly across my husband’s full lips. “Not as much as I’d hoped. I’ve got locations for the residences of a dozen lesser vamps in the employ of the Tribunal, but no one from the inner circle or the Ancients themselves.

  “For all I know, they could all live underground in the Seat of Darkness.” He dabs his mouth with a cloth napkin and sets it aside, clearly done with eating. “The greatest breakthrough occurred right before Dria arrived last night. I finally nailed down Justin’s location. I think we should question him tonight.”

  Unwilling to have us go off on a tangent, I say, “I still think finding Rolando should be our main focus, not dwelling on what Justin does or doesn’t know.”

  “I’d have agreed with you before talking to Diane,” Jon says. “But now I’m not so sure. What exactly does Justin do for the Tribunal? Who hired him? How does he pay for his spells?”

  Rafe answers him. “We know he does protection and detection spells for them at the very least. I’ve witnessed him doing last minute fine tunings as he leaves. I’m sure he’s compensated well enough to be able to pay for his spells and still have money left over.”

  Jon shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant. Diane explained that wizards work differently than witches when it comes to using magic. Whereas a witch can naturally work magic, a wizard forces it, conjuring the magic himself with ingredients, chants, and whatnot, but doesn’t have the ability to call magic up spontaneously like a witch can.”

  “Don’t witches use focuses and ingredients too? I know I’ve heard spells being spoken—so what’s the real difference?”

  I speak up on this one. “It’s more like the witch has the magic in her blood, it’s a part of her. Whereas the wizard is a normal human who learns, through years of study and practice, how to master magic. But forcing the use of magic instead of channeling it naturally means there can be an imbalance in the world left behind from wizard magic.”

  “Do you know how they stabilize or fix the imbalance?” Jon asks. “Diane was unsure.”

  “No, I don’t. I’ve never heard of a witch—and they’re the only ones I have experience with—casting a spell that resulted in an imbalance. Or the need to fix it.”

  “What about the phrase ‘never turn a witch’?”

  Rafe jumps in, his mind filling with apprehension and pushing it toward me through our bond. “Where did you hear that? It applies to a vampire code, one not spoken of often.”

  Jon looks to me, not bothering to answer Rafe, as if he’s waiting for me to expand on the phrase. “I know it’s hard to believe, but the rule came into effect way before I became a vampire. I was told to never turn a witch, with no real details given. I assumed it was because the witch wouldn’t survive the transition.”

  “Okay, it might turn out to be a dead end anyway,” he says.

  “What made you ask about it?” I ask.

  Jon shrugs. “I’m not sure really. Just a feeling I had. It triggered something inside me when I read it.”

>   “Where did you read it?” Rafe inquires.

  “Uhh… I… umm…” He looks to me and quickly away.

  I raise an eyebrow at his odd behavior. “Now you’ve made me curious. Spit it out, Jon.”

  A harsh breath wheezes out of his chest and he slumps. “I know I should have asked…”

  “Yes?” Apprehension coils in my middle. Has he violated my privacy more than I bargained for?

  “I read the term in one of your journals.”

  Shock hits me in the gut. “What? Why would you read those?”

  Rafe breaks in, sensing my rising tension. “Liebling, the leather-bound books are stored on the shelves in our office. And he has been staying off and on in our apartment while we’re gone. If you really didn’t want anyone to see them you should have locked them up.”

  I wave off his response, knowing full well where the books are kept. “That’s not the issue. I’m just surprised he didn’t ask—and why he’d want to read them anyway.”

  Jon finally looks up, meeting my unflinching gaze. “It was too much of a temptation. I know I should have asked. And honestly, I only read the first one.”

  “Okay, but again—why?”

  “I wanted to get to know you better, Vivian. What experiences made you who you are today. How you became a vampire.”

  I’m not sure how to respond. Why didn’t he just ask me? Am I that unapproachable?

  “Are you angry?” he asks, his face a mix of emotion, guilt being the most prominent.

  “No, I’m not. I’m more curious—why didn’t you ask me if you wanted to know?”

  Rafe chuckles and pats Jon on the back. “It’s okay, man. I get it. You didn’t think she’d tell you the truth, right?”

  “Honestly, he’s right. I wasn’t sure how you’d react. Especially after I read all you went through.”

  I raise one shoulder, refusing to dwell on my past. “Whatever. It was a long time ago.”

  “Whatever? You were raped weekly for years. You were forced into blood servitude. And after six years, a shell of yourself, you were changed into a vampire against your will and used as a pawn in vampire politics.”