Blood Pool

by B. Ella Donna

  “Whoa… I’ve got it, Davis. You can go,” Raven said.

  His face lost all color as he recognized the victim. “I-it’s the guy—the missing body! H-how did he get here? What the hell happened? Y-you’re full of blood, Dr. Strigoi. Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine, Gary, really. Go. I’ve got this.” She walked over to her co-worker and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll explain this to you someday soon. For now, go back to your date and don’t worry about me.”

  He looked at one of the officers, shaking his head. “She never calls me by my first name. Shit, this must be bad.”

  The officer shrugged, winked at Bo and began snapping pictures of the crime scene. Gary left the scene appearing more puzzled than when he walked in. Joe Menendez soon arrived, and he and Bo worked in concert, processing the scene and questioning any potential witnesses.

  After they were finished, Bo dropped Raven off at her office, where she spent the next six hours performing an autopsy on the man she knew only as Derrick.

  In a normal human body, the internal organs are of certain sizes and weights. The heart of an ordinary adult male, for example, would weigh about ten and one-half ounces. The liver, the largest internal organ, can weigh up to three pounds.

  The organs in a vampire’s body are smaller, though, allowing room for the growth of arteries and veins. The exception is the heart, which has to pump the extra blood. It always doubles in size.

  Always—no exception.

  Raven and other Lamai born of different magickal or human beings had the same sized organs as a human, with only slightly larger hearts. Their cellular make-up changed due to the combination of human and magickal DNA.

  Derrick’s organs were much smaller than that of a typical male of his age and size, yet they were normal for a vampire. Nonetheless, his heart remained within the ten-and-a-half-ounce range. It had not grown in size, as his arteries and veins had. Once the DNA had transformed, his organs would follow suit. His DNA changed, but his heart did not. Something was not right.

  “That’s odd,” Raven remarked to herself, looking through the oculars of the electron microscope.

  “What is?” Tracy asked as she entered with the two samples of frozen red blood cells Raven had asked her to retrieve, along with the written report of Derrick’s blood work-up. What was left of his blood, which wasn’t much, filled a small vial.

  “His red cells have an odd feature, a spaghetti-like shape, which may explain why his heart didn’t enlarge.” Raven took the reports from Tracy and skimmed them. She noted high titers of anti-factor VIII autoantibodies. “He would have bled out at the slightest cut.”

  Tracy appeared as perplexed as Raven. “A Lamai who had a bleeding disorder? Now that’s a new one for the journals. Was it pre-existing?”

  Raven scratched her head in frustration. “It wouldn’t matter. Once he went through the transformation, he wouldn’t be affected by any immunodeficiency conditions he may have suffered from previously. This has to be purposeful.”

  Tracy sighed. “You’re losing me.” Tracy sat next to her, reading the report.

  “Either his blood was altered, or whoever turned Derrick somehow made it so that his factor VIII remained elevated… or altered.” Raven shook her head in horror, her eyes widening. She recognized this odd feature in the blood cells, but couldn’t remember where she’d seen it before.

  “Whoever is responsible has to have a medical background,” Tracy added, looking at the sample sitting on the scope. “This is the sample of your blood?”

  “Yes, taken last year. I also have a sample of Victor’s, Solaris’s head of security, and a fresh sample of my own blood.”

  “There’s a severe cellular modification to the victim’s platelets—different from what would be expected in the average change from human to Lamai, if you can cite an average. Both your platelets and Victor’s are dissimilar to those of the victim.” Tracy spun around in her chair, facing Raven. “Have you ever encountered anything like this before?”

  Raven looked up at her friend. “No. Never.”

  “It looks like the cells have been modified. There was a change beginning to take place in the DNA and RNA. Something was brewing in his blood. Where would we possibly start testing?” Tracy asked. She seemed to be trying to figure out how much blood remained, and if they could even perform the proper testing.

  Raven crossed her arms over her chest and exhaled a deep, frustrated sigh. “We can’t rule out molecular changes on the quantum level.” Raven watched for her red-haired assistant’s reaction.

  “Magick,” they said in chorus.

  “Or something more sinister,” Raven whispered.

  Chapter Five

  In the evening, approaching the dinner hour, she’d received the news. Raven had just hung up the kitchen phone after a conversation with an old colleague from San Francisco. It was the call she’d been waiting for all day. She had suspicions about Derrick’s blood samples and wanted to talk them over with her friend from college. She was worried about what was occurring on the island, and had a dreadful feeling about that night’s festivities. The beginning of the Harvest Fair.

  She was trying to digest the information she’d just received when she felt a presence.

  A familiar presence.

  “I hear you and Bo are back together again.” The unexpected though recognizable sound of his voice caused Raven to break from her morbid thoughts. She felt the color drain from her face as she whirled to face the man in her kitchen. His silver eyes gauged her reply.

  “Tobias.”

  “How are you, Raven?” He reached out to her with open arms. She wanted to move, but felt rooted to the floor. In one step, he stood in front of her, wrapping his arms around her. “You look beautiful, as always.”

  “Thank you. What brings you to the island? It’s been about—what, a year?—since I last saw you. Where have you been?” She desperately tried to hide the hurt that seeped into her voice. She couldn’t quite pull it off.

  Nearly exhausted from the grueling day, she grabbed some vegetables and began vigorously chopping them. Preparing for an early dinner, she tried to act as if his presence didn’t affect her. She couldn’t pull that off, either.

  He smiled. “I’m here to see you, of course, and to join in the festivities. The first of the Nights of the Parades is this evening, is it not?”

  “Of course, yes, the harvest parades,” Raven said, absentmindedly nicking her finger with the blade as she tried to slice the fresh carrots from Nigella’s farm. She shoved her finger in her mouth.

  “Careful, dulciuri inimă,” her father said, taking a seat on a stool at the center island, watching her slice and dice.

  Raven eyed him cautiously. He looked like he wanted something.

  Tobias was handsome as always. She definitely saw what had drawn her mother to him. Raven resembled Tobias in appearance. His hair was shoulder length and dark as the raven’s wing. That was how she’d received her name. After seeing a mop of jet-colored hair on his newborn daughter’s head, Tobias asked her mother if she liked the name Raven. Raven’s mother never denied anything to Tobias.

  His eyes were the same smoky grey. He sported a neatly trimmed Van Dyke, giving him a distinguished and regal demeanor—or satanic, depending on one’s point of view. The genetic connection between Raven and Tobias was undeniable.

  “Frank called you, didn’t he?” she asked, sliding a pitcher of raspberry iced tea toward him. She took two slices of lemon and sugar cubes and poured them both a drink. She needed one, her mouth suddenly parched. Seeing her father always made her anxious.

  “I speak with Frank often,” he said, sipping the sweetened tea.

  “Why don’t you just call me?” She stared at him with the same hard gaze she’d received from him so many times. Their relationship was a tug-of-war at best. When she needed to be close to her father, he was absent. When he was ready for her, she was too hurt and erected a wall of protection.

 
He stroked his beard. “I don’t want to be an overbearing father.”

  She tried to stifle the laugh that erupted, but failed miserably. “You needn’t worry about that, Tobias.”

  “Would you like a fire?” He didn’t wait for a response as he grabbed a few logs from the ring next to the fireplace. In an instant, he had a fire blazing.

  He walked over to her. “Dulciuri inimă, your finger is still bleeding. When did you last have anything decent to feast upon?”

  Speaking in the manner of a medieval king, he peppered his speech with the language of his native Romania, where he grew up so many hundreds of years ago. He’d always called her “sweetheart” when she was a little girl and continued to do so even though she was a grown woman.

  “You sound like Nigella’s mother now. She’s always trying to feed me,” Raven said, walking to the sink and rinsing her finger. The next thing she knew, Tobias was standing next to her, holding her hand up to his mouth. He kissed his daughter’s cut.

  “Nigella’s mother feeds you blood?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “No, Nigella does, on occasion.” She looked down at her finger. It had healed. “And no, I don’t feed on my friend, if that’s your next question.”

  He returned to his seat. “I know. I have been to a few ceremonies in the past, or have you forgotten? I remember the ritual and the blood. You have good friends. It was a wise decision to move here. That would make two good decisions I’ve made in my life, finding and marrying your mother being the first.”

  She played along with her father. “Only two? You’ve lived a long, long time.” She went to the oven and checked on the roast, simmering in a red-wine glaze, and the garlic-herb potatoes. “Having children isn’t on your list of wise choices?”

  “Of course, it goes without saying.”

  “No, it needs to be said.”

  He smiled at Raven, melting her heart with every loving gesture. “All right, an amendment to my previous statement. Three wise choices.”

  “Speaking of time, don’t you think you should give up wearing all black? I think you’ve mourned enough.”

  Tobias’s eyes flashed with a pain that Raven found all too familiar. Her heart broke a little more for him. She changed the subject.

  “Black is always in fashion,” he said. Raven knew he tried to make light of her remark.

  “You’ll stay for dinner?” she asked. “I know you don’t eat much, but it would be nice. Bo would like to see you.” She turned to him, feeling like a little girl again, wanting to make him happy.

  “Of course, I’d love it,” he agreed.

  Raven noted his eyes as they drank in the view outside, at the vast expanse of water that stretched for miles, visible from almost every window of the spacious Victorian house. Waves crashed upon the rocky shore as the sun snuggled into the Atlantic for the night. Blues, magentas, violets and burnished copper-colored clouds grazed the horizon, like ghostly pirate ships searching for lost treasure.

  Raven knew it was more than the festival that had brought Tobias to the island. Her lips parted to ask, when she heard the front door open.

  “Kagi Taka,” Bo called out.

  “I see he still talks to you in his native language,” her father observed, standing to greet Bo.

  “Yes, just like you,” she said, walking toward the front door, her arms open, ready to embrace her beloved.

  Bo lifted Raven gently in his arms and whirled her around, kissing her neck, nipping at her tenderly.

  “I missed you. My father’s here,” she whispered into his ear. His gaze probed hers, questioning. Raven shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

  Bo hung his suede jacket on the deer antler rack, a gift from his grandfather for Raven, by the entrance. He took a deep breath and accompanied her into the kitchen.

  “Tobias. Nice to see you.”

  “Bo, you look good. Taking care of my Raven, are you?” Tobias shook Bo’s hand.

  “Always,” he replied.

  In truth, Bo and Tobias did get along well. He could see into Bo’s soul and he knew the depth of feeling Bo had for his daughter. Tobias also understood the call of the wild. Although he sensed it bothered his daughter, he knew it was not a reflection on Bo’s love for her. Raven argued that they were merely sticking up for each other—an odd sort of male bonding.

  “I guess you’ve talked to Frank?” Bo asked, not wasting a moment.

  “Yes. He told me about Sang de Mort,” Tobias huffed.

  “Sang de Mort? Are we talking about the same…?” Raven asked.

  “He goes by many names, but yes, Courtier de Sang—Laroque. I know he’s resurfaced,” Tobias said, watching as Bo took a beer from the refrigerator. “Frank told me that he explained to you what happened all those years ago. I’m sorry, Raven.” The ache in his heart still felt new. “Your mother didn’t want you to know. You were too little to remember your sister. After she died, I couldn’t break the promise I’d made to her.”

  Tobias observed the interplay between his daughter and Bo. “Apparently, neither could Frank,” Raven said, glancing at Bo standing by the sink as he watched the last rays of the sun reach across the water. His long, lean legs were crossed, and he tapped his boot impatiently. Nothing escaped Tobias as he monitored his daughter’s actions. He laughed to himself, noting how she studied every muscle visible beneath Bo’s faded denim jeans.

  Every single muscle.

  Tobias felt like an intruder.

  Bo took a long pull on his cold beer. “I’m surprised you’re not at the office. There’s another DB. I just finished the paperwork on it. That’s why I’m a bit late.”

  “Davis is on tonight. He owes me. Tracy is in, too. They’ll call if they need me. Was it suspicious circs?” Raven handed Bo three plates. He set the table and checked on the fire in the dining room fireplace.

  “It didn’t look like it to me—yet—but we’ll see what Davis finds. The victim was a fairly young guy, mid-forties, and apparently there’s no outward trauma. Could be cardiac arrest.”

  Tobias had been standing in front of Raven, uncharacteristically quiet. Finally, he spoke. “I don’t want you getting involved with Laroque, Raven. He wants nothing more than to kill all those I love.” His voice was firm and unyielding. “Promise me.”

  “I can’t make that promise. This is my job. If Laroque is somehow involved with these deaths, I have no choice.”

  He clenched his jaw, frustrated with his daughter’s stubbornness. A trait she inherited from him. “Then quit. You don’t need the money. I won’t lose you. You are susceptible. You’re powerful, but your mother’s blood makes you vulnerable.” He took her hand and rubbed her finger on the spot she’d cut. Raven pulled away.

  “I’ll be careful,” she said, taking the roast out of the oven. “Come on, dinner’s ready.”

  Bo remained silent during the interplay between father and daughter, a slight smile pulling at his lips. Tobias didn’t inform Raven that Bo had been the one to persuade Frank to get in touch with Tobias and invite him to the festival.

  They sat before the roaring fire and dug into the tender roast. “I questioned just about all the Lamai on the island. Emerald’s sister Iris helped with the interrogation,” Bo said as he placed a water pitcher filled with sliced lemons and limes on the table.

  “Why did you need a Fae’s help?” Tobias asked, his curiosity piqued.

  “She’s a Truth Seeker. You know, a Fae version of a lie detector,” Bo explained. “She might be able to figure out who turned Derrick.”

  Tobias asked, “The one who attacked Solaris?”

  “You didn’t waste any time finding out the latest, did you?” Raven asked her father.

  “My daughter won’t tell me, so yes. I spoke with Solaris earlier. I’ll tell you who is responsible: Laroque.”

  “Laroque is part Lamai?” Bo asked.

  “No,” Tobias spat in indignation. “He is a powerful bokur, a sorcerer, and his most dangerous quality is his knowle
dge. Laroque’s a madman. He also has extensive familiarity with Lamai bloodlines. It’s his life’s work.”

  He placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward toward Bo. “He blames me for Raven’s mother’s death. He wants to kill me, but, since that’s impossible, I’m afraid he’ll go after Raven.”

  “How did he turn a human?” Raven asked, spooning more of the sautéed vegetables onto Bo’s plate.

  “I’m not exactly sure, dulciuri inimă, but he has. There’s a reason he has all those degrees in microbiology. He has planned this, I’m certain, for a long time.” Tobias felt his daughter’s penetrating gaze. Gods she’s so much like me.

  Raven continued. “And Derrick’s DNA was altered. It didn’t look as a normal Lamai’s blood cells would appear. Perhaps Laroque infected him—with what, I haven’t figured out—but he could have done it in one of the same ways that the HIV virus is spread, through a contaminated needle. Only Derrick’s blood was purposely contaminated. That would make sense, especially considering that Derrick wouldn’t let me kill him. He said, ‘That’s what he wants.’” Raven finished her tea.

  “What do you think he’s up to?” Tobias asked.

  Raven fidgeted with her napkin as she explained. “I think Laroque is trying to genetically alter the Lamai DNA, or something along those lines. There is something different with the platelets. I need to study the samples and run more tests.” She picked at her vegetables. Tobias got up to stoke the fire. He hated that he made his daughter so uncomfortable.

  Bo whispered, “Dinner is delicious, cante skuye.”

  “Thank you,” Raven said, staring into his eyes.

  “Later. You can thank me later,” he whispered.

  Tobias sat back down. “You said he’s doing this the same way HIV is spread.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Raven, do you think he could be creating some sort of virus?”

  “It’s possible. I’ll have to make a few more calls to some friends in San Francisco. Frank said Laroque was doing research there years ago. I started digging around, and my old college roommate called me back right before I started cooking dinner. It doesn’t sound promising. She said she’s going to get back to me if any more information comes up.”