by Dakota Dawn
“It won’t be like that anymore. I’ve learned I can order blood wine from the Wyckoffs. I can control myself better now that I have a regular food source,” Darrin responded.
“You think they won’t recognize your name?” he asked with a raised brow. The Wyckoffs are not stupid, he thought to himself.
“I’ll use an alias.”
“Where will we work?” he asked in a huff.
“I don’t know. I’ll find something. I can work the night shift. You wouldn’t have to work with me. You can go back to a normal life, Conlin.” Darrin shook his head. “We can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”
A mental picture of Tristan’s strong arms wrapped around him had Conlin shaking his head. “I don’t believe you. I think we are safe here.”
Darrin snorted and ran his hand through his hair. “Open your eyes, man. Look past Tristan. Something is not right here. If you are so important to Tristan, why would he leave you? Why isn’t he working in the winery with you? Something bad is going on.”
Pain started throbbing through his head and chest. He didn’t want to leave Tristan. If his brother and friend were convinced that they had to leave, he needed to hear them out.
“What proof do you have? It can’t be just Tristan not working in the winery. He didn’t hire Joaquin to manage it for no reason.” Conlin spread his arms wide for a moment. “All of this can’t be easy to run. They have all this property, two wineries, a vineyard, and a lot of blood banks all over the country. There is no way Tristan could spend all of his time in the winery, even if he wanted to.”
Darrin had the grace to look ashamed. That made him feel a little better.
“You could be right on that one. We have other evidence, though. Ghost, fill him in,” Darrin said.
Ghost stood and started pacing as he talked. “I’ve been doing some digging around.”
“You what?” Conlin asked, horrified that his family had been looking into the Wyckoffs after all the brothers had done for them.
The spirit stopped and moved to stand in front of Conlin. “Don’t be mad. I just had a feeling I needed to check into them a little.” He gestured down his see-through body. “I can hide this body really well, you know.”
“Get on with it, Ghost. Tell him what your spying revealed,” Darrin prodded.
“All right, all right. Geez, I finally find something I’m good at besides breaking into blood banks and you won’t let me wallow in my discovery for a dang second,” Ghost long-windedly grouched.
“Get on with it,” Darrin ordered as if some hidden dominant had surfaced from deep within him.
Ghost huffed his displeasure. “I’ve been spending time in the coat closet in Drake’s office. His office is where the brothers have been spending a lot of time. Just last night they were annoyed because some young journalist outed them and two other companies on TV. TV, can you believe that!”
“What did the journalist say?” he asked with a touch of fear. Surely the person hadn’t found out something horrible about them. His head started hurting a little more.
That couldn’t be. The police would have shown up if that had been the case, wouldn’t they? A terrible thought popped into his mind. They hadn’t killed the cops, had they?
Snapping brought him out of his own thoughts and back to reality.
“Try to stay focused, man,” Ghost grumbled. “I was saying they were outed for doing good. The Wyckoffs are one of the major supporters of grants at the local community college and a few other charities as well.”
“What? That’s all. Here I thought they were secret mass murders or something terrible like that. You’re an ass, Ghost,” he said with a flip of his hand.
“That wasn’t the strange part, Conlin. They were really pissed at the publicity. Why would they be mad about a good deed getting out?” the spirit asked.
“I don’t know, maybe they are modest. Not all people who do good things want the world to know about it,” he snapped.
“Or they may not want any attention because they live so long. It makes sense. We have to stay hidden so humans don’t go into a panic. Desperate people are prone to kill what they fear,” Darrin added thoughtfully.
“True, but it seemed like more to me. They were very upset, and Drake hoped that since they were combined with the other businesses that no one would fixate on them. They have too good of a thing going on here to have to move.” Ghost waved a hand in the air. “Why would they have to move? Is their time almost up in this area? I don’t think so. I tell you it’s more. Like being outed could draw unwanted attention. It could, but by whom? Were they in bed with really bad guys in the past?”
“You can’t know that, Ghost. If they didn’t bring up a person or group that they fear then maybe you are just being paranoid. Possibly because you don’t like Tristan?” Conlin accused.
“Why should I like him? He’s brutish and you know it. That doesn’t change the facts, though. I can feel that something is wrong,” Ghost responded gruffly.
“Feeling is not proof, especially since you can’t stand Tristan,” he pointed out.
“Okay, you want proof? Well, listen to this. Drake just called his two top men back in from their vacation. Why would he do that if something bad wasn’t afoot? Huh? Explain it to me,” Ghost said with a tilt of his see-through head.
Conlin buried his head in his hands and wished this wasn’t happening.
Darrin put his hand on Conlin’s shoulder. “I know this is tough for you since you are so attracted to Tristan, but it does seem fishy that Drake called in his top men. What would be so important that they were needed back here before their downtime was over?”
“I don’t know? It could be for any reason. Possibly they have something big going on and didn’t write it down on their calendar. Once they realized they needed everyone here it was too late and the men were already on vacation.” He liked that idea. It freed the Wyckoffs from having scary troubles.
“Or, something bad is about to happen and they are arming up for a fight,” Ghost added snippily.
“You’re not sure, though,” he snapped. What was wrong with them? Why were they even looking for problems? This place was great. Some people just couldn’t appreciate a good thing when it fell into their laps. Apparently, this was the case with Darrin and Ghost.
“Hey, don’t discount his feelings so quickly. Ghost has never been wrong so far. Without him and his sixth sense you would never have been able to get all of that blood for me,” Darrin added and then turned sad eyes on Conlin.
Really, puppy eyes? “What else do you have?” he asked the spirit.
“Nothing. I can’t stay in the room for long because I can tell they start to sense my presence. Regardless, I have a bad feeling that something is coming. That Drake is on high alert tells me they know something is wrong.”
Pain shot through Conlin’s chest. He didn’t want to believe them, but what else could he do? They’d only known the Wyckoffs for a week. It was strange that Tristan wasn’t spending more time with him if the man really thought of Conlin as his mate.
Shock sped through his system when an angry Tristan and Joaquin appeared in the room.
“Are you sick? Why didn’t you tell me?” Tristan demanded.
“I’m not sick,” he answered.
“Then why did Joaquin have to come to me because you and Darrin didn’t show up for work?”
He glanced at Joaquin. The irritating man raised a brow and had a smirk on his face.
“That’s enough gloating, Joaquin. Take Darrin to work while I talk to my mate,” Tristan ordered and with a nod of his head Joaquin grabbed Darrin’s arm and misted them from the room.
Tristan took hold of Conlin’s arm and glared at Ghost. “What’s going on? The air in here is filled with frustration and doubt.”
“Nothing you need to be concerned about. It is a private family matter.” Ghost paused for effect. “You are not family.”
A low growl came from deep in the angry vamp�
��s chest. With his free hand Tristan grabbed Ghost’s neck and squeezed. What ever kind of hold it was, it worked. His heart started pounding when the spirit’s eyes bulged and his tongue hung lifelessly from his mouth.
His stomach churned at the violence Tristan was showing his friend. Choosing a side was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “Let him go, Tristan. He’s my friend and he’s telling the truth. We were just having a family discussion.”
“Why are you so sad? What did he say? I know it was him.” Tristan shook Ghost and hissed at the pinned spirit.
“God, just let him go. Why do you have to act like this?” Conlin cried out.
Tristan hissed and shoved Ghost out of the room.
As he watched his friend sail through the wall, he realized all of his options had just been taken from him. He’d calm Tristan down and prepare to leave the Wyckoff property with his family.
* * * *
Attinie cackled as she pulled up the address of the couple she’d seen on TV getting an award for working for ten years at a local soup kitchen.
Computers and local news channels were so informative. She was glad Earth was advanced enough to have such a great information system. It made her job so much easier. All good people and companies that appeared in the news instantly became her targets. The rush she got from killing good people was euphoric. Good equaled weak in her eyes. On her planet there could be no weak people.
She laughed again drawing her servant’s attention. “Cleaning up my planet is so much fun. I’ll be hungry when I return. Have my berries and raw steak ready by the time I get back, servant.”
“Yes, mistress.”
Pushing away from the desk, she stood and pointed out four large males. “Come.” They followed like little puppies.
Not wanting to use up too much energy, she climbed into the eight-seat SUV and pointed to her favorite red-haired warrior. “You are going to drive, Red.” He got into the driver’s side and started the vehicle as the others climbed into the back seats.
She spoke a few words, cloaking the SUV. Looking at the redheaded driver, she thrilled that he waited for her command. She punched the address into the GPS and grinned when the man pulled out of the garage and started following the voice coming from the GPS. This earthling was an excellent driver. Attinie briefly wondered if he’d been a professional driver before she’d come across him. Not that his past mattered. He belonged to her now, and she’d use him until he died. Just like all the rest of her warriors.
It took them thirty minutes to arrive at their destination. She didn’t mind, though. Her planet was an interesting place. You never knew when you’d get to see animals fighting or dead on the road.
They pulled the cloaked vehicle into the driveway of a rundown home. The yard was neatly cut and trimmed with a flowerbed running the length of the cracked sidewalk. The pathetic earthlings thought some cheap flowers would cover the fact that they didn’t have the means to paint their weather-beaten, paint-peeling home. She snorted at how dumb some earthlings were. Killing them was definitely doing them a favor. All that time they spent doing good they should have been robbing a bank so they could buy a better home.
Before they got out of the SUV, she pointed a long-nailed finger at each of the earthlings. “You and you go around back and come in the back entrance. If they couldn’t afford a back door then come in the front door. You other two come with me.”
“Yes, mistress,” they all said when she opened her door and slinked out of the vehicle.
The closing of all four doors caught the neighbor’s dog’s attention. He barked in their direction, but he was confused when he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Laughter boiled up and out of her. All earthlings were incredible stupid. The dog sniffed the air. She laughed again when all his fur stood up and he yelped and ran off.
Pointing at the brown-haired man with her, she said, “You first.”
“Yes, mistress,” he mumbled and then walked up the few stairs to the home and easily opened the door. The idiots had left it unlocked. They deserved to die. No one should leave their doors unlocked even while at home on the weekend in the middle of the day. Their stupidity sure made her job easier.
The woman gasped when the door burst open. Her husband stood and a little boy put down his toy car and looked at the door with a puzzled frown. Her men flung open the back door and loudly entered the room. Looked like they could afford a back door.
She shook her head in disgust. Good help was so hard to find. If not for the cloak she’d put on them, the owners could have grabbed a weapon and already killed a few of her men. If they had weapons, that is. A lot of do-gooders didn’t have them. It was just more proof that they deserved to die.
“Who’s there?” the man called out.
Attinie laughed out loud.
All of the family members looked in her direction. The man walked toward them cautiously. When he got within a foot of her, she removed the cloaking spell.
The man screamed just as loudly as his wife and little boy. She laughed and slapped him with two of her hands. Earthlings she didn’t enthrall always screamed when they saw her. Her beauty was just too much for them to handle.
Looking around, the man saw her four warriors and relaxed a small amount. “Is this a joke?”
“Not at all,” Attinie answered with a smirk.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“The little soup kitchen helpers dead.” She sniffed the air and laughed. “It smells like you are cooking some rolls. Are they for the pathetic humans at the soup kitchen?”
Pink raced up the man’s neck and colored his cheeks. “Look here, that costume may make you feel like you can be rude to others, but I’m not going to let you talk like that in my home.” He pointed toward the door. “Get out.”
Cackling, Attinie pushed past the man and grabbed his son up by the leg with two of her hands on her left side. The boy yelled and peed his pants.
Her trained men grabbed the husband and pinned him to the wall. As they slammed him against the paneled surface, a framed picture of the three of them fell and hit him on the head. Blood started trickling down his forehead before the picture even crashed to the floor. Glass shards sparkled in the sunlight pouring in from the window.
The wife looked between her son and husband. The stupid cow couldn’t figure out which one she wanted to help first, her bleeding husband or her crying son.
Laughing, Attinie decided to help her along. She shook the dangling child and slapped him with three of her hands. His cries rang through the room.
The husband struggled in vain, much to her delight. Red grabbed the wife when she was three feet from Attinie. Speaking a few words, she grinned when the red-haired warrior’s eyes became bloodshot and he started chanting must kill.
He held the woman’s hands in one of his and pulled the knife out of the sheath tied to his thigh.
“For God’s sake, don’t do this. I’ll give you anything,” the distraught husband yelled.
The man’s cry didn’t penetrate through Attinie’s thrall. Red raised the knife and in a quick move sliced the sobbing woman’s throat.
A bellow of rage and sorrow came from the husband. She let him struggle against her warriors for a few pain-filled minutes. Once he was defeated, she shook the boy still dangling upside down. His cries snapped the father out of his grief-induced daze.
A dog ran in from outside and started growing at Attinie and her men. This one seemed much tougher than the fur ball next door. With his brown fur standing on end, he charged at one of the men pinning the father to the wall.
Her warrior snarled and kicked the dog in the face. His grip on the dog’s owner never loosened. Attinie was proud of the warrior and herself as well for picking him.
A keening whine rose up from the dog.
Attinie sniffed the air, enjoying the scent of blood. Her strong attraction to the smell of fresh blood could pick up the dead woman’s blood as well as the husband’s and the dog’s
. A glance at the dog showed that he was bleeding from the mouth and nose. The mixture of all three blood types was lovely. Nothing smelled better than the blending of fresh blood.
Red was still chanting as his eyes repeatedly scanned the room. The dog charged at him when he crouched and wiped the woman’s blood from his knife on her shirt. The enraged dog leapt in the air. Without blinking an eye, Red raised his knife gutted the dog and shoved it away from him. The dying animal landed in a heap near the husband’s feet. It quivered and whined softly one time and then exhaled its last breath.
With tears running down his cheeks, the father looked from his dead dog to his dead wife to his crying son. “He’s innocent. He’s only two years old.” His brown eyes pleaded for mercy.
“Innocence is overrated.” She shook the boy and laughed when he cried louder.
“Please, I’m begging you.”
“Release him,” she ordered the men who had the father secured to the wall.
The thin man stepped toward Attinie with his hands out to take the boy.
Doing as she planned, Red chanted louder and slapped the stunned man’s arms down and backward. Before the man could get control of his arms, Red grabbed the man’s head and brought it down as he raised his knee. The crunching of the father’s nose filled Attinie with joy. Not giving his enemy a chance to recover, Red raised the man with his hands still firmly on the father’s head and twisted powerfully. A loud snap resounded through the air. Red dropped the dead man and looked around him for more people to kill.
Attinie spoke a few words in Red’s direction and the bloodlust left him, but not her enthrallment. She tossed the squalling child away from her and watched with delight when the boy hit his head on the floor. Instantly the crying stopped. She shook her hand when she saw his small chest rise and fall with each shallow breath. He wasn’t dead. That was disappointing. Satisfaction at the knowledge that he wouldn’t be raised by his do-gooder parents warmed her cold heart.