by Janice Jones
“Won’t be the first time,” Ben chuckled as he opened the door wide. “Thanks for the visit.”
Sasha stepped onto the porch and it lit it up like Christmas. She turned and waved at the figure as it moved toward them.
Ben wished he’d picked up that ax now.
Moving with confidence and ease, Ben could tell he was old, very old, even though he looked to be no more thirty. And his face was familiar for some reason. Then he realized he’d need the ax and possibly a tank if he wanted to hurt this one.
When the man’s face was in view, it was too late.
He caught the fist Ben threw, wrapped his hand around Ben’s neck and pushed him back inside. When Ben’s back hit the wall, the man smiled like the cat that ate the canary.
His wrist opened with a flash of pain, then pleasure—pleasure like he hadn’t known in years. Blood flowed easily as Ben struggled to breathe.
Tristan Ambrose smiled as he stared at the mark on Ben’s wrist, written in elegant script across the blue-green vein he just tapped. The strange little words popped off his skin as he smeared blood across it.
Forever etched into their flesh once indoctrinated into the group, the mark could only be seen at a certain light spectrum. Vampire vision was perfect at all of them. And the Tracker members underwent a surgical procedure, he was told, to allow them the same benefit.
“Bi Mete. Someone has got to tell me what that means one of these days,” he chuckled as he took one last taste of Ben’s blood.
Ben groaned and struggled to get free as he kicked his feet at Tristan like a fidgety child.
The blood was filled with tequila and lots of vitamins and minerals. “Good little soldier to the core,” Tristan laughed to himself.
“Inside joke,” he heard Ben whisper.
“I love jokes,” Sasha piped in.
Before he realized, Ben was propped against the wall on the floor, paralyzed, as the man stepped away and Sasha took his place.
“Seems the joke’s on you, Benjamin,” Tristan said from the chair Sasha occupied earlier. “I guess they didn’t let you in on the secret, huh?”
Sasha fed slowly, but stopped when she was told.
“He’s refusing to help us, Sire. But he and the woman are close. Watching her beg for her life might bring his memory back.”
Tristan wiped his mouth then placed the bloody fabric on the arm of the chair.
Sasha sat down next to Ben, licked his wrist and the wound closed.
“Leave her out of this,” Ben groaned. “I don’t know who you are, but you’ve got the wrong guy.”
“I don’t think so,” Tristan hummed and straightened his tie. “It’s going to be such fun jogging your memory, Benjamin.” He laughed again as Ben struggled to stand. “Before I’m done, you’ll wish you’d just given me what I asked without having to play this game.”
Ben made it half way up, but dropped to his butt again with a thud.
“Let me save you some time,” he chuckled. “There’s no hybrid, so you and the Amazon can leave now.”
He watched the man wrinkle his long nose as Sasha stood to pour gasoline everywhere. The smell started to grow stronger as Ben stared at the man, trying to figure out how they knew each other.
Sasha opened the big windows by the front door as Ben tried not to cough from the fumes.
“When I get what I came for. Let’s start with the location and then work our way up. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds like you’re fishing,” Ben sighed. “So I guess we’re gonna stand here and watch the paint peel then, because I got nothing to tell you that you probably don’t already know.”
He’d given up standing. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore.
The man strolled to the front door without a word. His walk, the way he swung his arms, held his head high, was so familiar.
“The others were so much more forthcoming with the information,” he finally replied. “Which came in handy since pieces of my memory have been erased Benjamin. I’d like to know why?”
“The others?”
“Yes, Becker and Wolfe. They fell so easily. They gave you and the woman up, begging for their lives in return.”
“Bullshit,” Ben coughed. “Who are you?!”
He stepped up to the open window and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
Then the memories flooded Ben’s head, buzzing around like flies.
“Oh my God!”
He smiled and even on a different face, it was frightening. His cold expression reminded Ben of the last time he’d seen Tristan in that tomb. Alex, bloody and fighting to stay conscious, managed to tranquilize the toughest son of bitch vampire ever and drop his body in a refrigerated container for transport. Once the lock was in place, her own blood was the final seal, Alex collapsed to the dusty floor at Ben’s feet.
“Surprised? So were your friends, right up to the moment they died,” he chuckled. “I told you I’d be back.”
“How’d you do it? You were a block of ice! Air tight and buried,” Ben whispered. “How did you do it?!”
Tristan turned on the balls of his feet and walked back up to Ben. He reached down to pull him to his numb legs, then held him against the wall.
“I asked you a question. Why can’t I remember who made me that block of ice? Whose blood did you use to seal me in that tomb?”
“Mine . . . it was mine.”
“Not just yours,” Tristan growled. “There were four blood types keeping the lock engaged. By the time I was freed, one had been stolen—the most important one as far as I’m concerned. If you continue to lie to me, I may get angry.” Then he smiled again. “Who can tell me what I need to know? You or the girl?”
Ben tried to move, but couldn’t. “Like I told her and now I’m telling you, Tristan, they’re all dead.”
Tristan moved in close, putting his lips to Ben’s ear. The hot breath escaped his mouth and Ben barely felt his feet leave the floor again.
“I don’t believe you,” Tristan whispered.
An icy chill ran up his spine as Tristan’s slick tongue slid over his ear.
Ben screamed when teeth pierced his vein in his neck and his entire body went numb.
He barely felt the floor when he landed in a heap at Tristan’s feet. He watched as those feet walked away, then Sasha jerked one of the curtain panels from the window and lit it.
Tristan checked his watch as he waited patiently at the door. When everything around them caught fire, it didn’t take long before red and orange flames were all Ben could see behind them.
Smoke began to burn his eyes and Ben felt his body rise over Sasha’s shoulder and they followed Tristan outside.
“Last chance, Colonel,” she laughed with a hard slap to his butt.
“Bite me,” Ben groaned as Sasha dumped him into the back of the SUV and slammed the door with a girlish giggle.
Ben closed his eyes at the sound of breaking glass and cracking lumber. He couldn’t watch the cabin his father built as it burned to the cold ground.
“Dagger, run,” he whispered, then gave into the blackness so maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if he woke after.
Chapter 32
“How’s he doing?” Jason asked. Alex could hear the click of his keystrokes during the entire conversation.
“Better,” she replied, doing the same. They had this in common she supposed, workaholics to the end. “Did your doctor find anything in his blood work?”
“Not yet,” she heard him sigh. “He’ll let me know if anything shows up. It’s strange that he would just drop like that. There are very few things in this world that can do that to a vampire, even one as young as him.”
“Maybe it was just bad blood,” Alex stated. She didn’t want Jason asking too many questions.
“Maybe,” he said. “Well, I need to fini
sh some work, so I’ll see you later?”
“Me too,” she answered. “Later.”
Tossing the phone on the nightstand, she went back to her work. Ivy had filled her inbox with contracts and photos over the last few days and she was behind in answering them. And her constant texting was a distraction Alex couldn’t afford right now. With heavy eyes, she reviewed and changed page after page of contracts and photos she didn’t like. Then the big yawn she’d been trying to hold back came. Stretching the kinks out of her back and arms, she finally pushed the tablet away.
Her fluffy pillow pushed itself underneath her head and she gave in to its call for her to rest. It was so easy to forget why she was here. It was hard to keep pretending she wasn’t enjoying the action though.
When she felt her body begin to relax, she sighed. How could she like being in the middle of all the mess and mayhem that seemed to follow these people all the time? Easy. She used to be that kind of person before this. And as much as she tried to deny it, she was good at this and she liked the way it felt to use her powers again.
Suddenly she realized Ben hadn’t answered any of her texts. Should she be worried? “He’s fine,” she told herself. “Whenever he’s at that damn cabin, he forgets the world exists. He’ll call tomorrow.”
Dreaming wasn’t really something she did, so when the images began to pop up behind her eyes, she just let it happen. A forest, huge trees topped with fresh powder filled the dark in her head. The smell of pine and burning wood flared her nostrils. She saw flames in the distance through someone else’s eyes. The teary eyes blinked as the sight bounced away from their view. A burning came to her throat and she forced a cough out, then the voice jumped inside her head. ‘Dagger, run,’ it shouted.
Alex bolted up in bed still coughing. She could still smell the faint odor of smoke inside her mind. She rubbed at her eyes and checked her phone. It was fifteen minutes later than when she laid her head down, though it seemed a whole lot longer. When the smell disappeared, the coughing stopped. Emptying the bottle of water on the nightstand, her phone beeped twice. A blank text box appeared, sender’s number blocked. “It happens,” she told her suspicious mind. She needed to get up anyway. Deciding it was the wrong number, she pulled the tablet over and checked her emails again. Nothing new from Ivy was a good thing.
It was time to get ready for the big meet with Jason and Conner Gale. Alex found she was excited about this meeting. Maybe it was the opportunity to actually meet Conner Gale in the flesh. She wanted to impress him for some reason. Was it because he was a very powerful man and having those kinds of friends was useful? Or could it be she was just looking forward to being the first human to be inside council chambers one day soon? Jason mentioned that might be a possibility, if they were successful in Romania in a couple of weeks. Beep. Beep. It was Jason reminding her she had thirty minutes to meet him at his residence. She replied with a smile and an ‘I’m on my way’. The next beep brought the number five to the screen.
Alex checked the sender—still blocked. Slipping into the tan shift dress she’d chosen, a funny feeling came over her. Maybe it was Jason trying to make her nervous. As she swept her hair up into a ponytail, she slipped her feet into the orange fabric heels and checked herself in the full length mirror. She was ready.
Inside the elevator, her phone beeped again. This time the number four appeared bright red against a black box. She decided it was Jason playing around. She sent him a ‘bite me’ to which he replied ‘later’ then a question mark.
The feeling in the pit of her stomach became a brick. Another beep with the number three popping up like a jack in the box sent her internal alarm into overdrive. Trying to call Jason as she moved quickly to the exit and up the concrete path leading to his residence, Alex didn’t think this was cute or funny anymore.
One more call to Jason went directly to voicemail again. Beep. The number two sat on the front of a cartoonish bomb, fuse burning down. The gate was open when she reached it. His security was at the front door waiting by the limo. Alex started to run when she got the next text with a number one on fire on her screen. The last beep came with four letters: B O O M, sending her into a full sprint after she kicked the heels from her feet. The front door opened and Jason appeared with Oren out in front. When she yelled his name, the car exploded and she took in a mouth full of smoke as she was propelled backward by the force of the blast.
Chapter 33
He couldn’t imagine spending this much time in the sun just a few years ago, but here he basked in its light and enjoyed it, strangely enough.
Stretching his legs out, Tristan closed his tired eyes and took a deep breath. The air here was heavy with salt from the ocean somewhere in the distance and toxins from the smog above. But to his surprise, it didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Even with the sun beaming down, he felt only a slight irritation from its rays.
The more of the substitute he drank, the less uncomfortable he felt in the light of day. Giselle was right. All he had to do was drink at least one bottle a day and he could walk in the daylight hours unharmed.
Dining al fresco was a pleasure! Beautiful young women greeting him at the door, escorting him to the best table on the patio and offering themselves in that wordless way excited him. More beauty taking his order and calling him by name made him feel special again.
Little did they know, the Brice they knew was gone for good. If they wanted a tumble with the new and improved one, they’d have to offer him more than just a pretty face.
His leisurely brunch kept getting interrupted by phone calls though. After the client, an up and comer in the action movie genre, left with a smile on his almost legal face, he decided to stretch the breakfast meeting into a little me time.
The first call from his assistant was to tell him his new suits were ready.
A couple calls were about some contracts needing to be signed before the end of the week. The one he was hoping for hadn’t come yet—the one from Jason Stavros’s camp granting him an audience.
Tristan hated waiting more than anything he could think of.
When he was the leader of Hellclaw, he waited on no one! He snapped his fingers and things got done! He need only wish and everyone in his house made it so. Those times were grand and he would have his family back, soon.
Dropping the black card on the silver tray his waitress left, he slipped his sunglasses on with a decidedly happy feeling in his chest. Once he gathered what information he needed from Stavros, maybe he’d let him live. The device wouldn’t kill him, or so he hoped. And if Tristan had him killed, that might set into motion something he wouldn’t be able to control right now. He had no house to speak of just yet, no one to fight the opposition. This would take time. Luckily, he had it to spare.
Leaving the waitress with a healthy tip and his private number, he walked through the little gate and mixed in with the late afternoon pedestrian traffic, making his way back to his office a few blocks away.
California, as much as he hated to admit it, was starting to feel like a good place to re-establish himself and his house. After all that time buried underneath the world, he found this place suited him, suited his plans for the future.
The lovely Karen smiled when he walked through the door.
“How was the meeting?” she hummed as she gathered little pink pieces of paper with things scribbled on them. She followed like a puppy dog to his office.
“Outstanding, Karen,” Tristan replied. “Did I miss anything?”
As they entered the spacious room with a fantastic view of L.A. County, with one wall of very thick glass separating them from the sky, Karen took a seat in front of the large desk, note pad in hand.
“Well, the studio called and they’re ready to discuss those changes to Gray Russo’s contract. Looks like you were right again, Brice. They won’t say no if the star is bright enough!”
�
��Good,” he smiled, tapping the keyboard and waiting for the computer to come to life.
“And, Mr. Stavros’s rep called,” Karen said with glee. “He’s ready to speak with you on Tuesday afternoon.”
“Speak? I believe I asked for a meeting, a face to face.”
Karen took a deep breath and one step forward, “I tried, Brice, but all I can get right now is a conference call.”
Tristan turned away from the computer, ready to berate her for her failure, but stopped himself. Although the real Brice would have verbally assaulted Karen, then asked for forgiveness later, he decided on a much different tactic.
“Then I guess I’ll have to settle for that,” he replied. “Thank you for all your hard work on this.”
Her cues were not very subtle either. He could pick up the excitement she telegraphed by blushing like a virgin and swaying on her high heels at his ego stroke. “Thank you, Brice. I just wish I had gotten you that face to face.”
Tristan was only slightly irritated that he had to wait an entire weekend before he could get what he wanted. And then it was just a phone call. This would all change once he was back at the top of the food chain again.
“I guess that’s still a good thing,” Tristan replied. “Was my gift delivered at least?”
She smiled big and nodded her slightly oversized head at him, happy that she had made her boss happy. “Yes! I confirmed delivery a few minutes ago.”
Tristan scanned his memories for Brice’s relationship with Karen.
Karen Anderson started with this firm when she was fresh out of college. Her plan was law school, but she married straight away and failed to give her now ex-husband children. He left her with nothing, so she took this job as a paralegal just until she could get back to school.
She found she liked this better, or rather she found she liked Brice’s affection and promises he never kept to help her get into law school, so she stayed. Still holding on to the hope that he would make good on his promises to her, she runs his office as he expects and keeps her bed warm in case he calls.