Tainted Blood (Hell's Belle Book 2)

by Greco, Karen

  "Nina," Max wheezed. "I don't think Frankie's in the mood to reason right now."

  I could see Max's artery pulsing. Licking my lips, I blinked a few times and then looked again. I watched the blood move faster under his skin. My stomach growled. I was suddenly ravenous, but it wasn't my hunger. It was Frankie's. He’d lost the ability to shut me out again.

  Breathing deep, I tried to keep myself from vamping out. But my fangs ripped into my gums, elongating. The area surrounding me was cast in a bright green glow from turning.

  Frankie took notice, and it distracted him from Max's throat, which was a very good thing. Now he was focused on me.

  He dropped Max's head back onto the filthy tracks and stood, stepping on Max's back as he came towards me, his arms outstretched. Was he going to bite me, or hug me?

  He came closer and, as much as I wanted to stand my ground, I took a step back. He was just so damn scary when he was vamped out. He was just three feet away when he stopped walking towards me. We stood there, face to face. I was definitely within grabbing distance, and there was no way I could outrun him.

  "I think I have a cure, Frankie," I said, slipping my hand into the SWAT jacket. Sparks tickled the tips of my fingers as I ran them over the stakes. I didn't want to stake him, but reminding myself they were there made me feel better.

  Frankie reached out his arm and, before I could stop him, he pushed my jacket to the side. Then he touched the stakes holstered across my chest, running his fingers over the wood. When he touched one particular set, a shower of yellow sparks fell from his fingers.

  "Do you remember making these?" I asked gently as he continued to trace the runes. "One of them killed a demon, Frankie. You did the impossible."

  Recognition flashed across his face, but disappeared just as quickly. Before I could process what was happening, he lunged forward and had his hands around my throat. Here we go again.

  "Frankie, it's me," I squeaked out. I looked into his eyes, ice blue and distant. He looked completely vacant. Frankie wasn't in there anymore.

  I gasped for air as Frankie squeezed, threatening to crush my trachea. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Max move towards us, his hand reaching for his gun. Shooting Frankie would do nothing but piss him off.

  I had to move fast before Max pulled off a shot and made a bad situation worse. I dropped to the ground quickly, hoping the movement took Frankie by surprise so he'd lose his grip. But he just followed me straight down to our knees, still holding onto my throat. But the movement forced his grip to loosen, so I pried at his pinky fingers, the weakest ones. They both snapped, finally forcing his hands off my throat.

  Frankie's fist shot out towards my face when several gunshots went off. I heard three ricochet off the cement walls. Frankie's right shoulder jerked a bit but his fist kept coming at me. I dropped all the way to the ground as it whooshed just past my head.

  But now I was face down and not in the best position. Frankie threw his body on top of me, pinning me down with his weight. He gripped my hands and pressed them into the ground. His face burrowed into my neck, and I felt his sharp teeth stroke at my skin.

  I went very still, hoping Max didn't shoot again. My lack of movement made Frankie relax his body a bit, and he moved his head away from me, trying to find a better angle for the bite. I snapped my head back full force, slamming my skull into his nose. The crack of the nose break was almost as satisfying as an extra rare steak dinner.

  "Watch the blood, Nina!" Max yelled from across the tunnel.

  But Frankie's bones were healing as fast as they were breaking, so fast that only a small trickle of blood came out of his nose. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

  The head-butt barely slowed Frankie down. I managed to get to my knees when he came at me again. This time he picked me up and threw me against the tunnel wall.

  The left side of my body smashed into the hard cement. I screamed, a mix of pain and frustration. The bones in my left arm shattered in several places.

  With Frankie's focus on me, Max saw an opportunity. He dove at Frankie, who simply swatted him away like Max was a fly. Max went airborne and landed in a heap by my feet. He was out cold.

  Frankie came at me again, but he was taking his time now, as if to say I was no match for him.

  That pissed me off.

  My left arm hung limply — I wasn't going to heal as fast as Frankie — but my right was still in fighting shape. I pulled out a stake with one working hand. I didn't want to kill him, but I'd incapacitate and stun him with a stake to the heart. To truly kill a vampire, you have to stake it, cut off its head and burn its heart. So as long as we left off the last bits, he'd recover.

  I stepped over Max as Frankie and I circled each other. Whenever we sparred, Frankie spent a good part of the fight trash talking and egging me on. This taught me patience when fighting him. I couldn't go on the offensive. As a full-blooded vampire, he would always win. So I had to fight smarter, be craftier. And that meant patience. He had to come to me.

  Max groaned, stirring a little. That pulled my attention from Frankie, who used the opportunity. He leaped at me, his hang time in the air as graceful as a cat. I leaned back and, just as he landed on me, lifted the stake and pierced him in the chest. He dropped on me like a load of bricks and we both went down. I scrambled out from under him quickly.

  Max was now sitting against the cement wall, rubbing his sore skull. Poor guy probably had a raging headache.

  "Did you kill him?"

  I shook my head. "He's just down until I pull the stake out."

  Max smiled through a groan. "Nice stake work."

  I didn't answer him. Staking Frankie didn't feel like much of a win.

  "Let's get him out of here and to the bar. I want to get that cure in him."

  Max got to his feet slowly, hanging onto the wall for support. "Probably a good idea."

  "I hate to ask, but can you carry him? I probably should be more careful of his blood right now."

  "Yeah, I got it."

  Max struggled a little to lift Frankie, but he got my partner up and was able to half-carry, half-drag the body. I located the mag light and shook it until it flickered back on. Its yellow glow illuminated the tunnel as we made for the exit.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The first thing I saw when I pulled up in the front of Babe's was a smashed in front door. I stomped through the mess of wood. Splinters scraped at my pants, poking through to my legs. Max was right behind me, negotiating his way through the debris with Frankie hoisted over his shoulder.

  Through the glow of the streetlights outside, I saw Dog holding court in the middle of the bar, her tailless butt wagging furiously. I crouched down and gave her a little love. She licked my nose.

  "What the hell happened?" My voice shot through the eerily quiet bar. Chuck popped his head up from behind the bar.

  "Oh thank God it's you!" he said, his voice wavering.

  "Chuck?" I gave Dog one more scratch under the chin and stood, eyeing the Beta-Vamp suspiciously. He could have he busted his way into my bar. "What's going on here?"

  Max laid Frankie out on a table. "Do you know who did this?" he asked Chuck.

  Chuck, still behind the bar, shook his head. "I don't know who it was. But I was outside the bar when it happened."

  "Where?" I asked, wondering if he had a good vantage point.

  "I was hiding behind a car parked out front," he said.

  "Did you see anything?" I asked.

  He looked pained. "Kind of."

  I eyed the door that lead up to the apartment. "Any idea if they are still in the building?"

  "I don't think so." Chuck gave Dog a nod. "This...is she a dog? Anyway, she grew about 10 sizes larger and paced around drooling and growling. One of them tried shooting but I don't know where the bullet landed and she wasn't hit. She lunged for them and they hightailed it out of here. I almost didn't get myself back behind the car in time."

  "Good Dog." I scratched her behin
d the ears. She looked quite proud of herself. "They? As in more than one?"

  "I don't know. I don't know." Poor Chuck was close to hyperventilating.

  "It's okay, Chuck. Calm down. As long as there is no threat remaining in the building, we're okay. I can take care of Frankie."

  I marched over to Frankie, who was sprawled out on the table. I fumbled for the pill bottle that held the spelled ashes when a stiff, cold wind from the wide open door hit my face.

  "I got to get him away from the door. The wind is going to blow the ashes all over the place."

  "Where?" Max asked.

  "Maybe we should do this upstairs," I said.

  Max grabbed Frankie under the arms, yanked him off the table and then dragged him across the bar. When he got to the door that led to the apartment, he heaved Frankie up over his shoulder.

  He turned and looked at me expectantly. "Can you unlock the door?"

  "It should be unlocked," I said.

  Max shook his head and grumbled that I was crazy to keep my doors unlocked in a "crime-soaked city," and I'd get myself killed.

  "I can hear you, Max. Vampire hearing, remember?" I said wearily.

  He ignored me and yanked open the door, his feet heavy on the stairs up to the apartment.

  "Do you have any plywood?" Chuck asked quietly. "I could cover up the hole until you get the door replaced."

  "That's sweet of you, thank you. There's some in the hallway going out to the patio." I pointed towards the back room. Babe had saved the plywood used to cover the window smashed out by the psycho vampire Marcello.

  Chuck tried to vault over the bar, but he kind of landed like a seal, stomach on the bar, feet up on the air. He rolled the rest of the way over it. Betas weren't like regular vamps at all.

  "Hammer and nails?" he asked as if nothing happened.

  "Basement. There's an electric screwdriver on the workbench, and a box of screws somewhere in the same vicinity. Go through the bulkhead doors on the patio."

  Chuck took off to start the home improvement project, leaving me alone in the bar. The lights were off, but shadows cast from the streetlights played on the walls. In the dim light, I almost missed that one shadow was actually our new resident bar ghost.

  "Do you need something, Howie?" I called out, hoping that my nickname for Lovecraft would irk the hell out of him.

  The air around me dropped an additional 10 degrees, making it damn cold. I shivered. "I know who it was," he whispered, my ear almost icing over.

  "You know who what was?" I asked, steeling myself for another icy blast.

  "I know who destroyed your door," he said with a giggle. "I saw the whole thing."

  "Are you going to tell me or just gloat about it?" I snapped, rubbing my arm. Damn thing was still sore.

  Howie snickered again. "I guess you really want to know."

  "You know what, I don't even give a shit. And if you're going to be useless, find a new place to haunt. You aren't earning your keep."

  His form flicked around the room angrily. "I won't leave."

  "Then I'll have to remove you with a priest," I snarled. I was not going to let a ghost bully me.

  That seemed to settle him down. "Fine. I'll tell you. It was a woman. A beautiful woman."

  "Kittie?" I asked. "Did she look kind of cheap Goth, with long black dreadlocks?"

  "Oh no, she was older. But beautiful. A classic. Long hair, pretty face."

  "And this beautiful older woman smashed the door in?" I questioned his veracity.

  "Oh yes. Beautiful but deadly. Not unlike you." He giggled again, and opened his eyes mischievously. "She had a man with her."

  "What about the man?" I played along for a minute, knowing it was Bertrand. "Older man?"

  "Oh yes."

  "Graying hair?" I continued.

  "Very warm indeed!"

  "Kind of good-looking?" I shivered a bit at complimenting the demon.

  "Oh no, now you're cold. Icy cold."

  "Wait, not good-looking?"

  "Definitely not. This one was ugly as the devil himself." Howie lit a phantom cigarette and took a drag.

  "So it wasn't Bertrand?"

  His face clouded over. "Bertrand? Oh no. Not him."

  I considered that for a moment. Sounded random. Hopefully some concert demons didn't make it this far east.

  "And Nina," Howie sing-songed, "they were in uniform."

  He hummed a few chords of the old Army song "Caissons Go Rolling Along" before disappearing with a flourish.

  "Found the stuff!" Chuck came in from the back, dragging a stack of plywood. "Who you talking to?"

  "That's great, Chuck, thanks!" I said, ignoring his question. I started up the stairs, taking them two at a time with Dog at my heels.

  I burst into the apartment.

  "He's in here, on the couch," Max called from the living room. Frankie's lanky frame was sprawled out on Babe's sofa, his head lolling back and forth on a throw pillow. He was still knocked out, but was restless. He'd wake up soon.

  "Want me to cuff him?" Max looked warily at Frankie's twitching body.

  "Won't help once he comes to," I said as I dug the pill bottle out of my jacket pocket before peeling it off and dropping it on the armchair. The SWAT letters were grey from the filth of the tunnel. My stakes and holster followed. "He'll easily break the cuffs."

  "Can you do it while he's out?" Max asked.

  "I don't know. This didn't come with instructions."

  I squeezed the pill bottle tighter and whispered. "Casper. Casper! You around?"

  I felt a small jolt in my head, like an electric shock, and then I felt Casper's presence.

  "I'm here, I'm here!" He was out of breath.

  "What have you been up to?"

  "Keeping tabs on that exorcism."

  "Are you nuts? You could have..."

  "But I didn't!"

  "That was reckless," I scolded, knowing it would do no good. I was haunted by a stubborn, teenaged ghost. Recklessness was part of his adolescent makeup.

  Max was looking at me oddly, like fascination mixed with confusion topped off with annoyance.

  "Max, are you okay?" I asked.

  "I just..." he said, squirming. "I still can't get used to the ghost-in-you thing."

  "Maybe you should leave the room then," I offered bitterly. His discomfort with our abilities was tiresome. He was one of us now. To still consider us weirdoes was hypocritical.

  "Are we doing this?" Casper asked, turning my head so I looked away from Max and down at Frankie.

  "Will it work if he's staked?"

  "Don't know. It didn't come with instructions." He repeated what I said to Max. We were spending way too much time together.

  "I think we need to take it out and let him come to, just in case."

  "O-kaaaay," Casper said, not really agreeing with me.

  "We'll hit him fast and hard with the spell, before he even gets a chance to move," I reasoned.

  "Pissed off, rabid full vampire and all?" Casper wasn't convinced this was the way to do it.

  "Can you guarantee that the potion will work while Frankie's staked?"

  Casper remained silent.

  "Then you have to trust me on this one. We can't afford for this not to work."

  "I just hope he doesn't look at you and see lunch," Casper said, relaxing into my body. Right after I dosed Frankie with the ashes, Casper needed to take over fast to do the spell work.

  "On three?" Max asked.

  I hovered over Frankie's body and nodded. Then I started the count. "One, two..."

  On three, I wiggled the stake out of Frankie's body and tossed it on the floor.

  "It's show time!" Casper did his best Jack Nicholson-as-The-Joker impression. I fumbled with the lid of the pill bottle.

  "Damn child-proof caps," I swore as I tried pressing and prying the bottle open. Frankie made a few small moaning sounds.

  "Nina, I think you need to hurry it up a bit," Max warned.

 
; "I'm trying," I snapped at him. The pressure of getting the lid off fast made it a near-impossible feat to accomplish.

  Frankie's eyes snapped open. He lay completely still on the couch, only his eyes darting around, taking in his surroundings. Then his body lifted from the couch and crossed the room like a projectile missile, putting distance between us.

  "Get out of here, Nina," Frankie growled, dropping to one knee. He was lucid, but barely, and clearly in pain. "I don't have much longer."

  "We got this, Frankie." I took a tentative step towards him. "We have a spell."

  "It won't work."

  "We have to try." I inched forward a little more and Frankie jumped back up to his feet.

  "Oh shit," Casper panicked, forcing my adrenaline to surge. I winced as my fangs pushed through my gums. But with my canines sharp, I bit the impossible lid right off the bottle. Problem solved.

  Max lunged and bear-hugged Frankie from behind.

  "I can't hold him long," Max shouted as Frankie started to struggle. Max's eyes flashed angry, and his forearms and biceps twitched and flexed. He was headed towards Berserker territory. There was a good chance he'd lose his grip if he transitioned.

  I poured out the contents of the pill bottle into my cupped hand. One more step and I was just inches away from Frankie, who was gnashing his teeth, his weakening body struggling against Max's strengthening one.

  "Now Casper!" I screamed.

  Frankie dropped whatever psychic trick he used to shield me from our binding. Without those in place, I was weaker, too, and the stress of the whole thing winded me.

  Casper pulled forward, taking over my body. His mix of Spanish and Latin streamed in the room. For a second, I froze, overcome by the bizarreness of it all. It was my breathless voice, but it wasn't me saying the words. I closed my eyes and shook it off. Then I drew my cupped hand to my mouth and, after Casper pushed out the final words of the spell, I blew the ashes into Frankie's face. I jumped back and steeled myself for any possible outcome.

  Frankie inhaled the ashes and immediately choked. Max was holding onto Frankie but growing larger and larger, clearly past the Berserker point of no return. He released his bear hug when his muscled body ripped out of his clothes. I caught Frankie mid-drop before he hit the floor. With a roar of pain mixed with testosterone-fueled aggression, Max sprinted out of the apartment, his footfalls heavy as he fled down the stairs. I heard the snap of wood breaking, not one but two doors, from the force of Max smashing through them. Chuck yelled in fear and shock, and then frustration that his makeshift door was destroyed.