Dark Wine at Midnight (A Hill Vampire Novel Book 1)

by Jenna Barwin

  After last night’s conversation with Gaea, he feared Cerissa might take offense, but he had no choice—he couldn’t ignore the treaty.

  “Going to lie to her?” Leopold asked.

  “I am merely going to tell her I have your blessing to proceed.”

  “That’s up to you, Henry, but let me warn you, based on what I know about Cerissa…”

  “What?”

  “Don’t ever lie to her.” Leopold laughed, a deep guffaw of secret knowledge.

  Henry clicked off the call and tapped his phone to open Leopold’s email. After copying the wire transfer information, he opened the app for his Swiss bank account, and pasted in the routing and account numbers. A few more taps completed the transaction. In about three hours his bank would open and the transfer would be completed—the time zone difference was one of the many reasons he used a Swiss bank.

  By the time he and Cerissa returned from the game tonight, the deal would be done. He could take her back to his house and make love to her without holding back.

  He raised an eyebrow when the phone rang again. He wasn’t expecting Yacov’s call. He put the Viper in gear and pulled away from the curb. “Are you at the gate already?” Henry asked. “I have your ticket. I’ll be there soon—a small business matter delayed me.”

  “I’m sorry, my friend. I can’t make it tonight. Shayna twisted her ankle today during theater rehearsals and can barely walk. I would feel terrible leaving her alone.”

  “Another time,” Henry replied, as graciously as he could. “Tell Shayna I hope she recovers quickly.”

  Henry punched the button to disconnect the call and clenched his jaw. What to do now? Rolf was entertaining wine distributors in the stadium’s luxury box owned by their winery. Rolf had taken Frédéric as his second. The last thing Henry wanted was to be in the crowded skybox with them, knowing how they felt about Cerissa. Besides, he wanted to focus on Cerissa and not have to glad-hand his way through the room.

  If he started calling friends now, he might find someone who could use Yacov’s ticket to satisfy the Rule of Two. He pulled over to the curb again and started working his way through his contact list.

  * * *

  Cerissa closed her bedroom door and phoned Ari—if he was back in Miami, it wouldn’t be too late to call him.

  “This had better be good,” Ari said when he answered.

  “I don’t care if I’m interrupting your love life. I need you to run a report on Blanche.”

  “Just because she’s spreading rumors about you doesn’t mean—”

  “She just threatened to turn me vampire.”

  “So what?”

  “It doesn’t make sense. Blanche has less than five years to acquire her buy-in money, and even for some of the less expensive communities, I don’t see her having enough capital to pay the buy-in for two vampires.”

  “Can you get to the point?”

  “I told you the point. Under the treaty, she has to pay the buy-in for any vampire she makes during the grace period. The rule is intended to keep unaffiliated vampires from over-breeding.”

  Ari scoffed. “I repeat, so what? She made an idle threat because she lost out to you.”

  “Look, you told me to get back on track and do my job. I’m doing it. You asked me to spy on them and report back anything suspicious, anything that could lead to the vampires who are a threat to humans. What if Blanche’s threat means she’s part of that group?”

  “You think—”

  “Blanche feels free to turn mortals into vampires because she thinks the current power structure is about to crumble. It’s the way she said it—‘someday things will change.’”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll look into her background more closely.”

  “Thanks, Ari. I have to run—call me later.” She grabbed her purse and ran downstairs. Henry should be here by now.

  * * *

  Tig’s office door at the police station stood open. She’d just arrived and planned on working her way through a stack of paperwork, a stack that threatened to topple over onto the floor. Jayden rushed in and stopped in front of her desk, looking agitated. “You’re not going to believe this,” he said.

  “What’s happened?”

  “Remember the guard, Norman Tyler?”

  “Yes, yes,” she said. “We should send Liza and Zeke to San Diego, to track down Hoodie. They can leave tomorrow night.”

  “Too late. The guard’s dead.”

  “Fuck! How?”

  “Throat slashed with a knife.”

  “Where did they find the body?”

  “In a ditch off the main road, near the prison—he was only dead a few hours. No idea how he got there. His car wasn’t found.”

  “Any markings a vampire did it?”

  “From the ME’s report, most of the blood is accounted for.”

  “Do you have the time of death?”

  Jayden handed her the preliminary autopsy report. “Between four and six this morning,” he said, “based on a liver temp of eighty-seven degrees. Probably closer to five a.m.—he got off work at four thirty and the body was discovered around ten.”

  “Fuck! We can’t rule out a vampire.” She felt like putting her fist through the wall, but the paperwork to have the wall repaired would just add insult to injury.

  “Take a closer look,” he said, handing her a photo. “Look familiar?”

  She studied the photo of the dead guard. The red slash across his throat looked like a second smile. Jayden walked over to a special file cabinet in her office and unlocked it. Only the two of them had keys. He pulled out a file and held up the photo of a different dead man—one of Zeke’s kills.

  She threw the guard’s photo down on the desk and snatched the one he held. “Damn. If Zeke left the dance before eleven and took a private jet to San Diego, he could have made it in time. There’s a small airport near the prison—easy to get there before dawn. Have you checked with the guard gate?”

  “They weren’t much help. New guy said he’d have to check with whoever had last night’s duty. They’re supposed to call me with a list of who left the Hill last night and didn’t return.” Jayden picked up the photo of Zeke’s victim from her desk and returned it to the file cabinet. “Zeke could be behind the attempts on Yacov and Henry.”

  She shook her head. Her evaluation of Zeke couldn’t be that wrong. “He has no motive. Cerissa arrived after the first shooting, and Henry didn’t hook up with her until after she was shot.” Tig picked up the photo of the dead guard and looked at it again. “Someone who’s familiar with Zeke’s out-of-town work could have killed the guard to set up Zeke.”

  “Lots of people on the Hill know what he does,” Jayden replied. “But not many have the details we do.”

  She squinted at the photo of the dead guard, trying to see something small. “Do you have any close-up views of the slash?”

  He shuffled through the photos. “Here you go. What are you seeing?”

  “That,” she said, pointing to some scar tissue on the guard’s neck, below the slash. “Repeated bite marks.”

  “Are you sure? Those could just be skin abnormalities.”

  “White skin does hide scarring better. Use the loupe, you’ll see it,” she said, taking the device from the drawer of her desk and handing it to him.

  He held the jeweler’s loupe over the photo. “Damn. Those do look like bite marks. So Hoodie was a vampire.”

  “Possibly. He definitely had close contact with a vampire, an asshole who didn’t bother to heal the bite marks.” Most Hill residents swapped vials of blood, healing their bites with another vampire’s blood to prevent repeated scarring. “It confirms what I’ve suspected all along—a vampire is behind this.”

  Jayden pointed at the bite marks in the photo. “How did I miss this when I interviewed him?”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. Norman’s shirt collar would have hidden it,” she said. She’d learned the hard way—needlessly criticizing him wouldn’t impro
ve his performance, or their relationship.

  “But he didn’t seem nervous,” Jayden said. “He was relaxed and open, no sign he was trying to cover up anything.” He threw the photo back on the desk. “I keep thinking about how Norman looked when I first met him. Gray and clammy. I’d chalked it up to the heat in the interview room, but it could have been caused by overfeeding.”

  She’d seen the same thing when she viewed the video. Damn. If she had been there, she would have smelled whether his blood was weakened from overfeeding.

  “Even when he confronted me,” Jayden continued, “he didn’t seem afraid, more like he was angry.”

  “If he’s the connection to the vampire behind this, they probably mesmerized him to forget. There was no way for you to spot his lies if he didn’t know he was lying.” She tossed the photos back on the desk. “But I don’t think Zeke was Hoodie. Hoodie looked much shorter and skinnier than Zeke.”

  “So what?” Jayden asked, straightening the photos so they were side by side. “More than one vampire may be involved. Zeke could have killed Norman.”

  “I’m not buying it,” she said. “Do the San Diego police have any suspects?”

  “I don’t have the full police report. I called the ME this afternoon and she sent me the photos along with her prelim. I’m waiting for the detective on the case to return my phone call.” Then his face lit up. “Hey, did you ever get Yacov’s suspect list? He promised to send it last night. We need it now more than ever.”

  She frowned. “I thought he sent it to you.”

  “Nothing in my email.”

  “Shit. The reminder better come from me. I’ll send it later tonight. I’ve got something else to do first.” She snatched up the photos and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  She stopped at the door. “I have a deputy to interview. And he better not have left the Hill.”

  The station’s front door buzzer sounded. She signaled Jayden to stay seated. He wasn’t on duty, and she wanted to see who it was, since she wasn’t expecting anyone.

  “Mayor,” she said, surprised to see Winston easing the door shut. “Is something wrong?”

  “Unfortunately, it is. We must do something fast. If we don’t, we’ll have a mob action on our hands.”

  Chapter 49

  Henry slammed the car door shut. No one was available to satisfy the Rule of Two—at least, no one he was willing to ask, and he refused to join Rolf and Frédéric in the skybox. He’d even called Gaea—she was meeting with her financial advisor tonight, seeking advice about investing in Cerissa’s project. He didn’t want to delay Gaea’s investment, so he didn’t press her.

  Anger flew through his body, like a thousand buzzing bees. Taking a deep breath, he strode to Gaea’s front door.

  As soon as Cerissa opened the door, her golden smile sliced right through him. He took her in his arms, and her warm lips eagerly sought his. Being with her drained the anger from him, and it wasn’t her ability to charm. What he felt for her made his anger flow away like water down a storm drain.

  “I hope you had a good day,” he said, when the kiss ended.

  “I missed you,” she replied, hugging him tightly, her hips pressed tight against his.

  Hmm, maybe we could skip the game and go back to my house? He mentally shook his head. He had promised her a night at the game and dinner out. He would find some way to fulfill his promise.

  He turned at the sound of a car pulling into Gaea’s driveway—Tig’s police cruiser. What was the chief doing here?

  “Cerissa Patel,” Tig said as she walked up. “Your diplomatic privileges have been revoked. You’re to come with me.”

  “Absolutely not.” Henry placed himself between Cerissa and the chief. “She has done nothing wrong.”

  “Step aside, Founder. You have no right to interfere.”

  Henry didn’t move. “I have every right to interfere. She’s mine.”

  Tig stepped in close to him and sniffed the air. Henry ground his teeth, the bee’s buzzing in his veins again. If the chief doesn’t step back—

  “She isn’t yours,” Tig said. “You haven’t taken her blood yet. You aren’t marked by the scent of her blood.”

  Cerissa moved around him. “But I satisfied the mayor’s conditions. He retracted the warning letter. I don’t understand what this is about.”

  “You violated the Covenant by going to Henry’s house last night. You had permission to be at the dance, but not his house, since you’re not his mate. I’m to escort you off the Hill. Pack your bags. We leave now.”

  Henry couldn’t believe what he’d heard. They were going to enforce that obscure rule now? More than a few mates had been brought to the Hill before the bite, to make sure they wanted to stay. More importantly, how had the mayor found out? Only Henry, Cerissa, and Gaea knew he had yet to take Cerissa’s blood.

  From behind him, he heard Gaea huff. “This is the mayor’s order?” she demanded.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Tig replied.

  “I’m going to whip his pompous ass for this. I told Winston to give Henry a few more nights.” Gaea put a hand on Cerissa’s arm. “I’m sorry, dear. I shouldn’t have gossiped. I never thought Winston would do something this stupid.”

  Henry clenched his fists. He couldn’t let the mayor force Cerissa to leave. In three hours, the wire transfer would go through and he’d be free to make her his mate.

  “Can you give us the night to work this out?” he asked the chief. “By sunrise, I’m sure the situation will be rectified.”

  He could feel Cerissa’s blush from a foot away. He looked at her and she turned away, clearly embarrassed. Was he presuming too much?

  “I’m sorry,” Tig replied. “I don’t have any leeway here. I’m just doing my job.”

  “Then I’ll go with her,” Henry said.

  “Sorry, Founder,” Tig said, motioning for him to move out of the way. “Rule of Two. You can’t go into Mordida alone.”

  Cerissa took his hand, her blush fading. “I’ll get a hotel room in town. I’ll call you once I’m settled in and you can get Yacov to go with you.”

  Tig shook her head. “No hotel room. You’re not permitted to stay within our jurisdiction.”

  “I can’t get a flight out now.” Cerissa held up her arm, pointing to her watch. “It’s too late. What do you expect me to do, drive all night? That’s ridiculous.”

  Tig seemed to consider it. “You can get a hotel for one night. By tomorrow, you must be on an airplane back to New York, by order of the mayor.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Henry said, his voice a low growl in his throat. He was going to have words with the mayor—maybe more than words.

  Cerissa took out her phone and searched for something, tapping through a few menus. Looking up at him, she said, “Okay, I’ve reserved a room at Mordida Inn. I’ll call Leopold and he can work this out through diplomatic channels. Please? Let him handle it.”

  She was asking him to stay out of the political fray. She squeezed his hand and let go. Tig escorted her into Gaea’s house, and Gaea followed them. Blanche came out when the others left.

  “I’m real sorry they’re kicking your girlfriend off the Hill,” Blanche said. “Hey, I hear you have tickets for the baseball game. I could go with you. Whatcha say? A night out before I leave for good?”

  “I’d rather go alone,” Henry mumbled as he shot a disgusted glance at her. He ran down the porch steps and got into his car. He’d had enough. All the rules under which he lived felt like a silver noose at his throat. Because of those rules, he was paying Leopold an outrageous sum for Cerissa’s contract, and now they were banning her from the Hill.

  Damn the Rule of Two. He changed gears as he sped toward the Mordida Inn. No one will ever find out.

  * * *

  Tig helped load Cerissa’s luggage into the envoy’s rental car and then got into her police cruiser. Henry’s car was gone. Strange. Had he gone to see the ma
yor? She checked her phone. No missed calls.

  The mayor should never have allowed Cerissa to attend the dance. Sure, the town attorney said the rule didn’t apply to an envoy, and the treaty trumped the Covenant. But the residents’ sensibilities were sorely challenged by that technical violation. And then everyone saw her leave the dance with Henry. The mayor couldn’t ignore the implications—not after having it confirmed by Gaea’s phone call. He had to act before the rumors got out of control.

  She followed Cerissa’s car to make sure the envoy left as instructed. Halfway through the business district, she flashed her cruiser’s blue and red lights. Cerissa got the message and pulled over.

  “Don’t say anything, just listen,” Tig said, once Cerissa’s window was down. “The mayor didn’t want to do this.”

  “Then what am I doing out here?”

  “There are still some who think you’re spying for Leopold. They’re using your relationship with Henry as an excuse to put pressure on the mayor.”

  “If Henry takes my blood, then I can return?”

  She considered it for a moment. Cerissa had passed her security check. There wasn’t anything else stopping her return. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  The envoy said goodnight and drove off in the direction of Mordida. Tig walked back to her cruiser, taking a deep breath and letting it out. For some reason, every time she was around Leopold’s envoy, she felt the desire to protect her—the same protectiveness she had once felt for her younger co-wives. What an odd way to feel about this stranger.

  * * *

  “What are you doing here?” Cerissa demanded when she found Henry standing by the hotel elevator.

  “I’m here to help,” he said, taking the suitcase handle from her and following her into the elevator.

  Yeah, she could guess what his idea of help was. He hadn’t taken her blood when they made love last night. That was his choice. Now he was being coerced into it and she refused to go along. How had he put it? Love should be freely given.

  She held her tongue until the door to her room shut.

  “I don’t need your help,” she announced. Anger had stripped away her fear of making a mistake in the private realm. She took a soda out of the hotel refrigerator and plopped down on the couch.