In Her Blood

by Janice Jones

  “I have no idea,” Alex replied. “Probably in the bar picking up twenty-somethings.”

  “Yea, well, take care,” Ivy stated. She was dismissing Alex, which was so unlike her. “Call me when you’re on the way home. Don’t make me come looking for you.”

  “Yes, mother.”

  The line went dead and Alex was kind of glad. As she continued her work, she glanced at the bed through the open door. Matt’s silver case sat on the bed, unopened. Every time she tried to reach for it, her hands shook and her head ached. But she couldn’t avoid it much longer if she was going to find out what really happened.

  Chapter 26

  “When were you going to tell us?” he asked as he shook the glass, causing the wine to spin inside. He stood in front of her for almost ten minutes without a word.

  She looked up from the computer screen only briefly. “Tell you what?”

  Sebastian emptied the glass. When it slammed against the far wall, she didn’t flinch. She didn’t even stop until he pushed the screen down, clicked it closed, and a small beep announced sleep mode.

  Alex sat back on the couch and stared at the machine. After a few seconds of silence, she reached for the computer again. After the night she’d had, she didn’t have the strength to figure out what this kid was so pissed about. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d just go away.

  Sebastian swept the device from the table and it flew across the room and landed in pieces on the floor. “You’re bitten!”

  The timbre of his voice shook the glass in the windows. The vibrations echoed around the ceiling as she stood.

  Alex stayed calm as she walked over to the remnants of her laptop and scooped them up in both hands. After she dumped the bits on the dining table, Sebastian stood in her personal space as she turned around, body rigid, fangs bared.

  “I’m not bitten, but if you’re offering . . .” she giggled.

  _______________

  He put everything he had into the backhand. His hand even stung a little.

  Alex bounced off the bulletproof glass and slid down to the carpet.

  Sebastian picked her up like a puppy and tossed her to the other side of the room.

  She crashed into a floor lamp and ended in a heap next to the front door. When she started to laugh, Sebastian roared.

  She shook her head and wiped at her own blood as he approached again.

  “You lying, self-righteous bitch,” he barked. “How can we trust anything you say or do now? You could be connected to whoever did this to you even now! Who are you working for?”

  Trying to push herself from the floor, she sighed, “Nobody.”

  At first he raised an open hand, he paused then brought down a fist as hard as he could. Alex hit the floor again and laughed.

  He split her lip with that blow and her forehead bled, slightly. “I should just kill you now and save us all a whole lot of trouble,” he growled at her.

  Alex stood tall and faced him. He was the one to put some space between them when he sensed it. Danger always had a bitter smell, almost sour. He felt her rage burn the air around them as her face contorted to scream at him. “Do it!”

  Sebastian had never seen this kind of pain before, not ever.

  Alex no longer looked like the woman he’d met days ago. She was no longer cool, calm and collected. Although still beautiful on the outside, the storm of emotion that erupted from her was hard to look at. It was grotesque, and even harder to believe.

  _______________

  She took a deep breath and kicked him in chest with everything she had.

  “Disappointed, Sebastian?” she hissed as she stood over him. “Did you think I was one of the good guys? Innocent and brave. Righteous! I wasn’t!” She plucked him from the floor with ease then slammed him high against the wall. “I was human and weak! And every time I told myself that it was the last time, I’d do it again and again and again!”

  She dropped Sebastian to his feet then she forced her knee into his gut. When he doubled over, that same knee bloodied his nose sending him back into the wall. The blood he coughed up splashed her bare foot.

  “Do you know what it’s like Sebastian? Wanting it all the time? Needing it every day?”

  Once he was upright again, she pressed her body against him, her nose slid over his neck and stopped on his ear, then she exhaled.

  “Scratching at your own skin until it bleeds! Begging for that first break of skin, feeling like you were on fire. Then they bite and it all goes away. All you can feel is blissful pain! And when it’s all over, all you want is to burn in hell!”

  Alex steadied him on his feet, stepped away and shook her head at the floor. When he tried to move away, she caught him by the neck, squeezing off his wind pipe.

  “I have never known a need like that before. Pure lust! Pure desire and the only way to satisfy the hunger was to let one of you feed on me.”

  Before she knew it they were stretched out on the floor, she on top of him as she moved against him, and exhaled hard against his ear again.

  “And I did. Every night I’d find some hungry little newbie and let him take his fill and then I’d take his life!”

  She straddled Sebastian, held him to the floor by one hand and smiled like she was just this side of insane. When he tried to sit up, she forced him back down, his head bounced off the floor with a thud.

  That’s when she let him feel her power—her real power. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t have been able to free himself from her grip. And that grip was nothing compared to the one she had on his mind. She slithered inside his head like a snake, pushed past his mental blocks like they weren’t even there.

  The pictures formed slowly then there was a full-fledged movie played inside his head. Faces blurred, but it didn’t matter. She showed him how she fed her addiction to the bite and how she covered her shame the only way she knew how, killing! She let him enjoy the pleasure and then she made him feel the pain.

  _______________

  Over and over again, Sebastian felt each one die at the height of his pleasure. He tried to force her out, but couldn’t. His body ached for her the way theirs did. He screamed the way they screamed; the way she did each time. And when she was done, she pulled him to his feet and sat him down gently. So much pain he thought, too much pain for anyone to have to bear. When his head spun, his knees buckled and she let him fall to floor.

  After the pain in his head stopped, he opened his eyes to see the bottle of blood as it loomed over his face. Sebastian took it in a shaky hand, crawled to the wall and sat up against it. Alex slid down next to him with a bottle of Patron in one hand and two shot glasses in the other.

  Every muscle ached, as he drank slowly at first. The sensation was like a really bad hangover. The blood eased the fire in his gut, but didn’t erase what he’d seen. Finishing his blood, he took the shot glass and they drank.

  “How’d you find out?”

  Sebastian opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He took another shot and it burned going down. He pulled the piece of crumpled paper from pocket. The chicken scratch didn’t seem familiar, at first, then he saw a flash of recognition move over her face.

  “How long has it been?” Sebastian whispered because he couldn’t raise his voice any louder.

  Alex took a shot and put the bottle down between them. “Ten years, two months, two days,” she replied with a far off look in her eyes.

  He turned his head toward her and she looked lost. “How did you sever the bond? I mean nobody goes cold from that . . . do they?”

  “No they don’t,” Alex sighed. “You either beg to be turned or you beg to die.”

  “So . . .”

  “I died,” she said with a pat to his shoulder as she pushed up from the floor. “And you owe me another laptop.”

  Chapter 27

  This place was tack
y way back when. Now it was just plain sad. Nothing had changed in over twenty years. The neon sign blinked and buzzed as she passed. The steel door was a joke. Even the rapidly aging bouncer made her laugh inside.

  Alex wouldn’t have been caught dead within a hundred miles of this place under any circumstances, but she had to be here. This was the beginning of the yellow brick road for her, unfortunately. As Creed’s right hand, she protected him with her life. Fueled by hate, Alex Stone went from full-time soldier to part time enforcer and lover of one Mason Creed. Worst mistake of her life.

  Gramps checked the fake I.D. she presented with his good eye. He eyed her, then the license again. After a few seconds, he let her pass.

  Inside she almost laughed out loud. Same paint scheme, same cheap ass furniture, and incredibly bad artwork on the walls. This stuff had left cool in the dust ages ago.

  Alex slipped the money under the glass separating her from the woman in the booth and waited for her change. The woman pointed a long fake thumbnail toward the ratty curtain behind the booth and said, “Have fun honey.”

  This would have been the perfect situation for gloves or a full decontamination suit, Alex thought as she tried not to really touch the curtain to pass through to the other side.

  What was most likely dust or Anthrax floated to the floor as the fabric separated. She held her breath and stepped to the other side. The vibrations from the bass hit her in the chest as she walked through. The lights on stage drew her attention to the dancer.

  He danced around the small stage alone. His abs moving in time to his music as the women screamed and clapped and waved money in the air. When the pants came off, the crowd went wild.

  On his knees, the dancer crawled seductively to the edge of the stage and took the dollar in his teeth. His admirer, a healthy girl with platinum hair, Lee press on nails and tight jeans fanned herself as he pecked her on the cheek and slid to the other side of the stage.

  Her girlfriends cheered and ordered another round.

  Alex took a stand at the bar.

  She watched the crowd of women from this decade surrounded by remnants of the last. Some of these women were too young to remember those days; some weren’t even born yet.

  Whoever said women couldn’t be as raunchy as men should come to this place on a Friday night. The bouncers around the stage were prying women off the dancers like pull taffy.

  When the bartender dropped a white paper napkin on the bar, he waited for her order with no expression at all really.

  “Tequila,” she said. “And I need to speak with Creed.”

  The bartender poured the tequila without the slightest acknowledgment of her request.

  She slammed the cheap liquor and tapped the glass for another. The hundred she put under the glass got his attention quicker than before.

  He reached for the money and Alex reached for him.

  His wrist was weak—no upper body strength either. She guessed the fact that she was a million times stronger than him might have had something to do with this not being that hard. And he didn’t reach for the sawed-off under the register because he knew he wouldn’t make it.

  “Creed ain’t here,” he growled as she let his arm go. He massaged his wrist and poured her another drink.

  “He’s always here,” Alex replied slamming the shot. “Get him now.”

  He picked up the phone with his good hand. “Who’s lookin’?” he sniffed.

  “Alex,” she replied.

  When he repeated what she said, he hung up and said Creed was on his way down.

  Mason Creed fancied himself an entrepreneur. This fine establishment was one of three he owned and operated within the city limits. However, it was the only one catering exclusively to women, thus explaining the poor attention to detail when it came to the décor.

  But this crowd was too drunk to care. They were here for another reason.

  They were here to get a chance to see the men behind the red door just off stage right. They were here to escape the mundane and walk the tightrope for a few hours every weekend.

  Creed was the man with the plan, and his plan worked beautifully.

  Each and every weekend, this place filled with lonesome widows and bored housewives; horny singles and wispy wallflowers. And every weekend they came here to forget the last five days of the week. They drank and danced and waved money in the air for the chance feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

  The objects of their desire danced at their command.

  They writhed and gyrated to upbeat tempos or slithered and posed to what passed for ‘mood’ music in this place. All the while picking the ones they’d take behind the curtain; the ones who would give anything to be in their arms, if only for one night.

  Creed had been center stage back then; the biggest draw in this place. Now he owned it.

  _______________

  When he spotted her, he noted how easily she fit in here. She was a few years older, but nothing else had changed. Perched on the stool, she looked bored, classic disposition. As his enforcer, Alex was feared and desired at the same time. His competition tried on several occasions to lure her away, but she stayed with him. He let himself believe it was because she loved him, but in the back of his mind he knew it was for a different reason. So he was content to be the one she shared her bed and her blood with back then.

  Now he imagined what she’d do when she found out her very best friend in the world had taken over those duties. That thought amused him so much right now. The first opportunity he got, he’d spring that on her and watch as it brought her to her knees.

  When it was clear to him she was alone, he gave the bartender a nod and stopped a few inches behind her. “You lost?”

  Alex turned on the stool and smiled. “Nope.”

  “I know you don’t need a job, so what are you doing here?” Creed smiled as he took the whiskey from the bar.

  “You should seriously consider redecorating this place,” she replied, then led him to a dark booth in back.

  She smiled as she slid into the faux leather booth and sent his drink back to him. “I see you’re still drawing them in like flies,” Alex grinned. “Or should I say keeping the bait on the hook?”

  Creed laughed and tapped the glass with his pinky ring. “Just giving them what they ask for.”

  _______________

  When the next dancer hit the stage, the lights went low and the music slowed down.

  Still covered in shadows, Alex could see him clearly. The costume was laughable. Black tuxedo pants and opera cape; hair slicked back, giant iron cross at his throat.

  When the cape fell open a collective gasp sailed around the room.

  His chest, bare and slick with body oil, the muscles rippled and flexed as he pulled at the string so the heavy fabric around his broad shoulders slid to the stage. Alex recognized Jason’s young bodyguard, Oren, immediately. Sometimes blackmail material just fell out of the sky in this town.

  “You like that, huh,” she heard him say. “Remind you of someone does he?”

  “Lose your touch Creed? Girls not screaming for you the way they used to?”

  “Oh I still keep them screaming,” he winked, “My talents are best enjoyed behind closed doors these days. My clientele, well let’s just say they like their privacy and they pay very well for it. I’d be happy to pencil you in, for old times’ sake.”

  “Tempting as that sounds, I just came here to talk,” she replied.

  “If you say so,” he answered. “I don’t remember you being much of a conversationalist in the old days, though. I remember you being eager to please me, which of course is how it should have been.”

  Alex pulled the crumpled piece of stock paper from her pocket and tossed it over to him.

  Creed looked almost afraid to touch it, but he pressed it out and smiled when he loo
ked up at her. “I’ve updated that if you’re interested.”

  His wry grin and low chuckle made her want to scratch his eyes out.

  “Somebody slipped that to one of my guys tonight,” Alex stated as she took his glass and emptied the contents on the cheap carpet. She pointed to the note scratched at the bottom and Creed just smiled.

  “You think I did this? I didn’t,” he replied, waving his empty glass at the bartender with two fingers in the air at him. “Looks like someone’s sending you a message, but it’s not me.”

  “I know someone is sending me a message, Creed. I want to know who.”

  Creed and Alex fell silent when the bartender dropped the glasses on the table and walked away.

  “How would I know?” he groaned. “We haven’t seen each other in ten years.”

  “My guys were in your place downtown. When they left, this was in one of their pockets.”

  Creed pushed the paper away and frowned. “And . . .?”

  “And coincidence is not in my vocabulary.”

  “Maybe it should be.”

  “Maybe you should just tell me what I want to know.”

  Creed sighed again and raised his glass to her. They toasted, but Alex didn’t drink.

  “I can’t begin to imagine how someone came across a twenty year old flyer, let alone explain how it ended up in the pocket of one or your ‘guys’,” he stated.

  “You should probably try to figure it out then because I would hate to see anything happen to all this beefcake,” she smiled, “especially him.” She jerked her head toward the stage.

  “Are you threatening me? That is not a good idea,” Creed growled.

  “Really?”

  “I’m a law abiding, taxpaying businessman,” he continued. “This isn’t the Old West, you know. You can’t just come in here, guns blazing, and expect me to blink.”

  He put the glass to his lips, but she pulled it back before the liquid touched his mouth.