Blood Revolution (God Wars, #3)

by Suttle, Connie

  "Conspiring with the enemy?" Bill was immediately alert and more than curious.

  "Bill, that one's not your fight. It's somebody else's," I said. "Even with all the firepower on Earth, you wouldn't have enough to engage in that battle. What we have to do is concentrate on this particular Sirenali—at least I'm hoping it's only one—and take it out."

  "Have you fought any of these before?" Opal's eyes narrowed in speculation.

  "Yeah. Their obsession doesn't work on me, for some reason. The last one I killed was a piece of work. Nasty, too."

  "Let's get back to the more immediate problem—Oscar Forde and the two human men we saw through Breanne," Bill said. "If we track any of them, perhaps we'll find the Sirenali at the end of that trail."

  "I was hoping for that too. Bill, there's something else," I said.

  "There's more? Breanne, I'll have to get my heart checked as it is," Bill placed a hand over his heart.

  "Honey, you're not feeling bad, are you?" I was about to come out of my seat. I'd already had one close call when Kathleen Rome had a heart attack. I didn't need Bill to fall, too.

  "No, sweetheart, sit back down," Bill motioned with a hand. "I'm fine, it's just that this is almost too much for we mere mortals."

  "Well, here it is, then," I said. "I followed three men who took three women from Hank's club one night. One was Russian—Igor Karyavin was his name, and the other two were Americans. Brothers, too. Jack and Caleb Stafford."

  "We've been tracking Karyavin for a while. I had no idea he was in the country," Bill said. "Do you know where he is now? Karyavin can cause more trouble than anybody might imagine."

  "Dead," I said. "Along with the other two. They all bore an obsession, and they were going to kill those women. I stopped them and sent the women home."

  "You killed them the same way you did the driver?" Opal asked. "Damn, I knew I liked you for a reason."

  "Opal, it only sounds impressive," I sighed. "It's a necessity when I do it, because there isn't any other way to protect the innocent."

  "Breanne, I realize it's a necessity," Bill said. "I'm just glad we have you here to explain this. If you weren't, we'd still be in D.C. and fumbling in the dark, thinking this was just another crazy serial killer that the locals should deal with."

  "I've been sneaking around, doing my own investigation, but this is such a confusing mess," I said. "Hank doesn't want me out of his sight, and how can I explain any of this to him and Jayson, anyway? I haven't told him that he was almost in the same situation as Dale Saylor—having customers taken from his club and murdered. He still ended up in the spotlight when John was killed. Three dead women would have made things a whole lot worse."

  "Breanne, I don't know what to say about this. You continually terrify me," Bill huffed. "It's not that I think you're helpless—far from it. I'm just afraid of losing you. I don't think my heart will take that much punishment again. Hank probably feels the same way—he doesn't want to lose you, either."

  "Bill," my shoulders drooped. "I don't want to upset either of you, but who else do you have to track a Sirenali? Do you know how dangerous these obsessions really are? How many girls died because of it? How many have died in San Francisco, recently? All it takes is obsessing vampires, werewolves or anything else that's stronger than humans and things get bad in a hurry."

  "This isn't good," Opal placed a hand on Bill's arm. "If this thing can order vampires around, we really don't have any defense against it. Bill, we don't have a choice except to put Bree in the middle of this."

  "Breanne, I worry about your emotional health, not just your physical well-being," Bill shook his head. "I don't want you out there on your own, chasing these things down. You need somebody at your back. Opal will be here with you, if I can't be. I have meetings scheduled in D.C., but I can fly back and forth when necessary. Hank's ex-special ops, so he can help out whenever he's available. I have his records—Hank's a badass when he needs to be."

  "I worry about you—I know you think you're protecting me, but really," I began.

  "That's not up for debate," Hank settled in the seat beside me.

  "Huh?" I stared at him. He was still dressed completely in leather—except for the shirt he wore under the vest.

  "Breanne Hayworth, listen to me," Hank took my chin in his hands. "Bill and I love you. Opal loves you. Jayson, Kathleen and Trina love you. You're not going anywhere without somebody with you. I have a license to carry a gun. Jayson does, too. Opal can carry whatever the hell she feels like carrying, as can Bill. I don't want more of your disappearing for two years. That's bullshit."

  "Hank," I attempted to pull away from him. He held onto my chin and leaned in to kiss me. Hard. "I just buried a friend," Hank murmured against my mouth before kissing me again. "That was hard enough. If we lose you, the world might fly apart."

  He pulled back, his dark eyes locked on mine. "Understand me? You don't go anywhere alone. Somebody goes with you, and that somebody better be packing."

  "Breanne, it's not just the ones you're hunting," Bill said.

  "Huh?" I turned my gaze from Hank to Bill.

  "You're getting death threats on those fucking websites," Opal jumped in. "All those Joyce Christian supporters. They've claimed the whole time you were gone that you were fictitious and a front for the plot to bring down Joyce's shiny reputation. Now that you've conveniently shown up and your face has been televised all over, threats against your life are being made on those conspiracy websites. We're trying to track them, but we have limited resources to put on it and frankly, those may just be the crackpots. Those who are serious are probably loaded up and actively hunting you, since they know where you were last seen."

  "Are you kidding?" I stared at Bill in alarm.

  "These people aren't known for patience and rational thinking," Hank turned my face toward him again. "They have weapons and they're crazy enough to use them."

  "Hank, this is insane," I quavered.

  "Baby, we need to guard your back while you're doing what needs doing. Okay? Come on, now, let's go back to Jayson's and work up a plan of action."

  * * *

  "We've got three we're tracking, but they're not in California," Bill pointed out. "I got that information this morning. This one," he showed us a photograph on a tablet, "we're concerned about him. We think he's been involved in other things, but we can't prove any of it."

  I stared at Vernon Clark's face and blinked. "Bill, he was directly involved in the murder of two border agents," I said.

  "Fuck. Bree, are you sure?" Bill came to stand behind me as I stared at Vernon's face.

  "Yeah. He was there and ordered two others to shoot," I said. "After driving them across the border into Mexico," I added.

  "We found the bodies, but couldn't figure out how they got there," Bill said.

  "Are you doing that trick again?" Opal lifted a dark eyebrow at me.

  "Yeah. I guess I am," I replied. "Usually I keep a shield up, so I won't see everything, but in a case like this, I drop the shield so I can see what's there."

  "You read people?" Jayson had been invited to the planning session, and he thought he was in heaven. Aside from his kinky tendencies, he was no mild-mannered magazine mogul. Jayson wanted to get into it; his excitement was easy to see.

  "Yeah. I can read most people, but there are a few I can't read. Sadly, you're one of them."

  "Thank goodness," Jayson leaned back in his chair, relieved. We sat around Jayson's poker table in his game room—Trina and Kathleen were the only ones not with us. Bill still stood behind me and squeezed my shoulders gently.

  "That's probably a good thing—that you can't read Jayson," Hank said. "Have you read me?"

  "Hank, I haven't tried. I was afraid to, after a while."

  "Try now," he insisted.

  "But," I whined. I had no desire to read everything there was to know about Henry Hank Bell—it frightened me.

  "Come on. Let's do this," Hank ordered.

  "
Fine," I grumped and lowered my shield. I shouldn't have been surprised. I couldn't read him, either.

  "I can't read you," I said.

  "Did you try?"

  "Yes, Hank. It's not something that has to be forced. If I can't read you, I know right away."

  "How many people have you not been able to read?" Bill asked.

  Ashe. Trajan. Trevor. Kooper. Stellan. Fes. Kalenegar. All their images flew through my mind before I answered. "Counting Hank and Jayson, nine," I said. "I can sort of read the Sirenali, but their obsessions are obscured for some reason."

  My admission forced me to explain about the Sirenali to Jayson and Hank, who'd missed the previous conversation.

  "I'm living in a science-fiction novel," Jayson tossed up a hand.

  "Just because you've never seen it doesn't mean it can't exist," I pointed out. "You just haven't been in the right place or time before."

  "Being in the right place and time with Sirenali sounds crazy and scary as hell," Jayson breathed. "Why can't it be some of those short, friendly guys?"

  "There are short, friendly guys, but they don't have any desire to invade somebody else's planet," I said, thinking of the Amterean Dwarves. The only thing they might want to invade was Earth's libraries and information systems. Information was more valuable than precious metals on Amterea.

  "We're screwed," Jayson muttered. Opal stifled a snicker.

  * * *

  "We'll be checking out that new club Monday night," Hank poured more wine in my glass at dinner. I didn't want to go, but there was no other way. KingDom's was the new club in town and had been in operation roughly six months. I'd seen photographs, and it was certainly upscale, there was no doubt.

  Bill checked on the ownership, but it was listed under a corporate name. He was still trying to get individual names for us, since Hank and Jayson thought there might be connections between it and the deaths in San Francisco. If that were true, then Oscar Forde had to be involved in some way.

  "We can't just walk into the place and start asking questions," Bill noticed my pout. "We need those tricks you have, Bree. I realize this might be hard for you, but you'll be with Hank and Jayson. I'd send Opal in, but she wouldn't be as effective."

  "Baby, I'll punch anybody who bothers you," Hank said. "We have to appear as if we belong, or they'll know something's up."

  "Plenty of people there may recognize Hank and me, but you," Jayson accepted the wine bottle from Hank and filled his glass.

  "Yeah, yeah," I grumped. They intended to dress me as someone they might bring into the club and that terrified me.

  "Just do that reading trick long enough to tell if anybody's involved," Hank said, pushing my wineglass toward me. "There's no need to be afraid."

  "Says you," I lifted my wineglass and pointed it toward him accusingly. I didn't want to have a meltdown in a dungeon where most people had gone for a good time, just because I didn't view what they were doing as a good time.

  "What about that mind communication trick?" Jayson asked. "I know you can communicate with us, but what if we want to communicate back?"

  "Jayson," I muttered helplessly before letting my forehead fall onto the island.

  "Baby, don't do that," Hank pulled me up and rubbed my forehead with gentle fingers.

  "It would make things so much easier if we could all do that," Opal sighed.

  "Huh?" I blinked at Opal. Well, was I who I was or not? Lissa had given mindspeech (and a few other nice gifts) to Norian Keef and several others.

  "Fine," I muttered before doing what my sister had done. I gifted Hank, Jayson, Bill and Opal with mindspeech. I couldn't help but glow softly while I did it. They didn't feel a thing, and Opal was still gazing at me expectantly when I was done.

  "Go ahead, think something in my direction," I told Opal.

  Are you sleeping with Hank? Opal sent.

  What the hell? What kind of question is that? I sputtered mentally.

  You heard me? She sounded very surprised.

  I heard you.

  Are you gonna say it's none of my business? She smiled at me from her seat across the island.

  It isn't, but the answer is yes. No funny stuff, though.

  Gotcha.

  "What's going on?" Bill had gone from staring at Opal to staring at me.

  You have mindspeech now, honey, I sent. Opal and I were having a private conversation.

  "I have mindspeech?" Bill sputtered.

  "You, Hank, Opal and even Jayson has it," I grumped.

  I can call you vanilla like this? Jayson sent.

  Jayson, I could have predicted you'd insult me right away, I sent back. Jayson scooted his barstool back and stared. I was grateful that Kathleen and Trina had eaten earlier while we'd had our meeting. Both had gone to bed while the rest of us had a late supper afterward.

  "Holy fucking cow," Jayson whispered reverently.

  "You won't be able to communicate with anybody else who doesn't have the talent, but you can send to Hank, Bill, Opal or me anytime," I said.

  Oh, baby, I want to fuck you until you scream, Hank's voice filtered into my head.

  You know, I predicted Jayson's insult and your reaction, too, I sent right back, ducking my head so the others wouldn't see the way my cheeks heated.

  We're going on a little errand tomorrow, too, Hank added. The jerk didn't even have the grace to look guilty about embarrassing me.

  What errand? I refused to look at him.

  We'll take care of your bush. You'll need that when we go to the club, and I prefer to keep that out of my mouth, he said.

  "That's it, I'm done," I scooted my barstool back and tossed my napkin onto the island.

  It's not an insult, love. It's just the way things are. Look, if it'll make you feel better, I'll get mine done at the same time.

  Yours is bare, I pointed out.

  It's a little prickly. It's almost time anyway. Waxing the first time might not be comfortable, but I'll get you through it.

  Unbelievable. I marched right out of Jayson's kitchen and walked the maze leading to my bedroom.

  * * *

  "Zen, do you think I'll ever be allowed to leave Nrath?" Perdil seemed mired in melancholy, for some reason.

  "No idea. Perhaps you should ask Lord Kifirin. It has been quite some time since we were brought here," Zendeval turned away from the book he studied to stare at the Liffelithi Dwarf. "Surely your penance has been served," Zendeval added.

  "Not likely. I made the mistake of loving the wrong woman," Perdil muttered.

  "Then find another to love," Zendeval sighed and went back to the book.

  "I cannot. She still visits my dreams, at times. No other will do for me."

  "I cannot help you, then. When you focus your affections on the Dark Lord's mate, you can only expect woe to come of it."

  "I will retain my hope that I will be allowed to go to her, although it is a trial to do so," Perdil muttered and walked away.

  * * *

  Breanne's Journal

  "Bree, waxing isn't a big deal," Jayson said. He and Hank had gone for their usual target practice earlier Saturday morning. Bill and Opal had gone with them. I had no desire to watch or listen, so I stayed home.

  I didn't tell Hank, but I misted to my house to get my e-reader while they were gone. Only two news vans were still parked outside, and that made me feel a tiny bit better. I'd read a book until Hank and the others got back.

  "Bree, you owe me for going after that idiotic tablet of yours," Hank lifted a dark eyebrow. Yeah, he was considering my punishment, and it involved hot wax and discomfort.

  "I told you I wanted it." I only whined a little, and honestly, he should have been satisfied with that.

  "I would have gotten a new one for you, if you'd just asked," Jayson broke in.

  "I don't want a new one. I want mine," I whined a little more. "It has all my stuff on it already."

  "Breanne, I told you not to go anywhere without someone with you," Hank frowned.
/>
  "I misted the whole time. You think I wasn't careful?" I glared at Hank.

  "Come on, we're going to the salon. You can whine on the way," Hank gripped my arm and steered me toward the door.

  Did I realize I'd be meeting Jayson's big-chested playmate at the salon? No. I almost breathed a visible sigh of relief to learn she was the receptionist and not the one who'd perform the hair pulling.

  "Belinda, this is Breanne," Jayson introduced me when I walked in between him and Hank. She was around five-eight, had a chest anyone would be proud of and tattoos showing under a laced-up bustier and white peasant blouse over a dark skirt. Her hair was blonde with shocking pink highlights. On her, it didn't look bad.

  Did you intend to embarrass me? I flung at Jayson. A little warning might have been nice.

  "Jayson adores you," Belinda crooned at me.

  "Jayson adores Jayson," popped out of my mouth before I thought.

  "He said you were feisty," Belinda grinned. Okay, I might like her. I sure didn't want to read her, though. No way I wanted to read what kinky stuff she and Jayson might get up to.

  We followed her to a room behind a beaded curtain. Three tables were inside. "We had to bring in another table, but it wasn't a big deal," Belinda grinned at me.

  "Jayson Rome," I turned on him, then.

  "Hey, I'm due. They'll do all of us together, and if you scream, Hank and I can laugh."

  "Really?" Yes, sarcasm seemed appropriate at the moment.

  Belinda left us after asking us to undress and wear the robes provided. Hank and Jayson dropped their clothes while I hid behind the changing screen.

  "I don't want to do this," I complained when Hank herded me toward the center table.

  "You don't have a choice," he lifted me and deposited me on the table. "Look at me, Breanne," he growled. I blinked at him. "Tell me now that you won't go anywhere without someone else with you," he said.

  "Hank, we should discuss this some other time," I said.

  "Then we'll discuss it another time. Soon." He moved away, sat on his table and lay back to stare at the ceiling, hands behind his head. I sighed and forced myself to stop watching him.