Bloodlines (Demons of Oblivion)

by Skyla Dawn Cameron

  “Did she say anything else when you saw her tonight?”

  Mishka again. Wife or not, he’d really have to get over the little bitch if he planned to accomplish anything. Moping over her death wasn’t going to help anyone.

  “She was less than thrilled about you still being alive,” I said with a shrug.

  His gaze dropped to the side. For just a second, something flashed over his face, and then it was gone. Smoothed away.

  Maybe I shouldn’t be so snarky about it. He was actually taking it pretty well, all things considered. “But she did look a little pissed when I told her we had sex,” I offered, thinking that might brighten him up.

  Maybe “brighten” was too strong of a word—his head shot up and he raised a smooth dark brown brow. “You what?”

  “Originally I was going to seduce you and kill you afterward. Mishka didn’t want me to—she said it wouldn’t work. But she seemed bothered when I said that we did it.”

  A half smile curved his lips. “Well, she was right; it wouldn’t have worked.”

  My jaw dropped. “Why the hell not?”

  He shrugged. “You’re not my type.”

  Not his type? What the hell—I was gorgeous, and I had been that way for centuries. I was everybody’s type.

  “Oh, why—’cause I’m a vampire?” I challenged, surprised at how easily his refuting my sex appeal enraged me.

  “No. I just prefer blondes.”

  “And look where that got you,” I said with a roll of my eyes.

  Not his type...whatever.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Survivor

  I awoke mid-afternoon. Generally I didn’t require so much sleep, but my body had taken quite the beating the night before. Replenished and itching to get out and do something, I couldn’t wait for nightfall. Alas, that wouldn’t be for a few more hours. Maybe something would be on TV.

  I wandered from my room and into the main area of the apartment, the hardwood floors cool beneath my feet. Nate had left the curtains closed as I told him to, and the place was dark and silent, just layers of shadows. The couch was folded up as it had been the night before, and the only sign that someone had slept there was the neat pile of sheets and pillows at the end. I didn’t have a maid, so I appreciated the effort, but...the pretty rich boy got weirder and weirder. What multi-millionaire cleaned up after himself like that?

  A large paper bag with the logo of an expensive men’s clothing store sat by the couch and a glance inside revealed dark clothing. So he’d been out and shopping during the day. He wouldn’t drop it off and run out again with people trying to kill us...

  I paused. Listened. Took in everything I could sense in the darkness. Nate couldn’t have left; the sound of a calm, steady heartbeat echoed in the air.

  And then I saw him. At the far end of the room, to my right, Nate sat on the hardwood floor. A shoji privacy screen helped to hide him from view. He sat cross-legged on the floor, facing the north. Light flickered faintly; I spotted a single votive candle in front of him.

  Meditating? Maybe. His back was rigid, like his spine was made of steel, and he didn’t move. I crept forward, rounding the room to get a better view of his face.

  The casual dark pants and long sleeved shirt he wore were new and I had proof in the bag behind me that he left at some point to get a change of clothes, but as he sat without making a sound—straight-backed and eyes closed—it seemed in some ways as though he had always been there.

  I could probably sneak up on him. Freak the weird warlock out. I ghosted forward—

  And struck an invisible barrier.

  The force knocked me back half a dozen feet; I landed on the hardwood floor, barking my elbows and bruising my ass. Ouch.

  Nate’s icy blue eyes flew open.

  Should’ve stayed in bed. I pulled my legs gracefully under me and rose; my robe slipped back into place. “You want to explain why you’re putting up invisible walls?”

  Nate snuffed out the candle with his fingers and rose as well. “It was the barrier spell.”

  “I thought you required doors or something?”

  “I figured it was time to start working on my skills,” he said dryly. He scooped up the candle and started for the couch. I followed, taking careful steps; I didn’t want to run into any more walls I couldn’t see.

  Nate lifted a manila folder from the coffee table and handed it to me.

  I flipped the folder open to find photos inside. “What’s this?”

  “The first few are of my father’s house.”

  I took a closer look. The building was beyond recognition—the mansion had been leveled to its foundation, and nothing but charred debris remained.

  “The next is my apartment, which was hit sometime early this morning.”

  I glanced at the next shot. Flames reached out from the inside of all the apartments, smoke billowed up into the sky, all while scores of people looked on from the sidewalk. It was an upscale area of the city—I knew it enough to recognize the area but couldn’t quite place what the building had looked like before its destruction.

  “The last ones are of the homes of my direct relatives—aunts and uncles mainly. No one survived.”

  I browsed the remaining photos of demolished homes I didn’t recognize. “You don’t seem too broken up.”

  Nate shrugged. “We weren’t exactly close, and I’m not the sort of relative anyone invites to the yearly Solstice party.”

  I licked my lips and gave him a little grin. “Bit of a black sheep, are you?”

  “More like gray.”

  “So you’re the surviving member of your coven?” I returned the folder to his hands.

  He shook his head. “A few cousins are in hiding, as well as a couple of my mother’s relatives.”

  “Where did you get the photos?”

  “From a friend I asked to look into it for me last night. Although this should have made me an extremely wealthy person, all the family accounts are frozen, which I find...odd.”

  I blinked. Waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “Um, ‘odd’? Don’t you mean fucking bizarre?”

  “It’s troubling, yes.” But his expression didn’t change.

  “Is it just standard, or—”

  “No, and I can’t dig too deep because I’d rather not alert the wrong people.”

  “And all of them are frozen?”

  “Well, I had a personal one under a different name that was untraceable to me. That account is fine.”

  Weirdness, but whatever. It wasn’t like I’d need his money anyway; I had five million from Mishka, along with the rest of my considerable savings account. If it wasn’t troubling him, I couldn’t let it disturb me. “Did you find out anything else?”

  His brows pulled into a frown, head tipped down. He did “concerned” really well—if he went broke, the guy could probably do a calendar of his broody expressions wearing few clothes, and chicks would buy a dozen each. I’d get two dozen. “Unfortunately, no. A number of covens were hit just as hard, and it seems anyone who knows me isn’t coming out to talk.”

  Damn, this was getting complicated. Powerful covens had been destroyed overnight. That was unheard of, and it was the sort of thing that really freaked people out. Like Nate’s, any of my contacts would be keeping a low profile. Hell, the only person I could think of would be able to offer any leads was Mishka.

  And since I was unfortunately stuck in the middle of it...time to start calling in favours. Literally.

  I paced across the floor to the phone and pressed the third button on speed dial.

  “J. & F. Financial Services,” said the perky voice on the other line.

  “Tell Franco it’s Lain.”

  The call immediately switched over to another line and a minute later a man picked up.

  “Whaddya want, Zara?” Franco asked, his gruff voice so loud I had to hold the receiver away from my ear until he’d finished speaking.

  “What do you think?”


  “I’ve already paid ya what I can,” he said shortly. “You knew that when you did the job. Goodbye.”

  I sighed; it was a long, exaggerated noise for effect. “Franco, you’re making me rather grumpy.”

  Silence. Half a minute passed. “N-Now Zara, I—”

  “Relax, I’m not asking for money.”

  “Then what—”

  “You can pay me the rest of what you owe me in weapons.”

  Another pause, then his voice came out a growl. “When?” He knew better than to argue with me. Having an implicit threat of violence in my voice tended to keep the conversation in my favour.

  “Today.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Today. I’m sending someone over to pick them up.” I gave him my order and, without waiting for his agreement, hung up. After scribbling down the address, I handed it to Nate.

  “Go there around six, when the place closes,” I said. “Head around back. If Franco gives you any trouble, tell him the police will be receiving a package at midnight.”

  “What did he do?” He glanced over the address, then tucked it in his pocket.

  “Hired me to kill his business partner several months ago. Plus he’s becoming a pretty big weapons dealer in the supernatural world, but doesn’t want his family to know.”

  He fought a smile at his lips, and raised a brow in question. “So you’re into blackmail too?”

  “A girl’s gotta do what she can to make a living in this city.”

  ****

  Nate had a contact he hadn’t been able to get a hold of, so we resolved to stop there first, and then meet up with Heaven later that night.

  If it was weird for him to suddenly be working with the vampire who his wife had hired to murder him, he gave no indication of it. As for me, I couldn’t care less about the arrangement. He was simply another mortal—though a nice to look at one—and so long as he could be useful in the current situation, then I would ally myself with him. The same went for Heaven Thiering, whom normally I didn’t care for. I supposed that since her husband and daughter had both just been murdered, she would also be ready to do what she could to help.

  As I stepped out of the shower that evening, the thought of why the half-demons had been trying to capture me bounced around in my mind. It was especially odd since they were the only ones I’d encountered the night before—the men at the Thierings’ residence seemed to be human.

  People I fought with tried to kill me, almost without exception. Never had anyone tried to abduct me. There seemed little cause, as I wasn’t particularly powerful by the standards of the supernatural world. There was nothing about me personally that would give someone reason to take me alive. I had given plenty of people cause to want me dead but why had they simply tried to render me unconscious?

  I tied the kimono sash around my waist, opened the bathroom door, and started for my bedroom. The rest of the apartment was swathed in black. A moonless, starless night had fallen, and since the lights were all off, I deduced Nate was still getting the weapons.

  As I reached my room, a cool chill swept over me, icing my damp hair and drying the moisture from my bare skin. The bedroom window was wide open; the curtains were parted and swayed in the breeze.

  That definitely wasn’t how I’d left it.

  I looked to my bed. There was something—a square lump of some sort—lying atop the covers. I crept toward it, my gaze sweeping across the room as I went—

  A hand came around from behind me and pressed against my mouth, yanking me back against my assailant before I could react.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Another Ally

  I rammed my elbow into my attacker’s ribs and swung around to grab him by the throat. I shoved him into the wall behind us and firmly held him in place as I flipped on the light switch.

  “Hello, darling,” Jamie said with a grin. He glanced down at my hand when I made no move to release him. Perhaps he thought that once I saw it was him, I would let him go.

  He didn’t know me very well.

  “Uh, do you mind putting me down?”

  “Do you mind explaining what you’re doing in my apartment?”

  “I could try, but I think you’re crushing my larynx.”

  “And yet I don’t seem to care.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You can’t still be sore about last night.”

  “You shot me,” I reminded him.

  “And you more than made up for it by putting four bullets in my back.”

  “You ruined my dress,” I continued.

  “But I brought you a present.” He gestured to the bed.

  I glanced behind me to see a flat white box with a huge red bow on the top. Well...it was a known fact I could be bought quite easily. I let him go. “It had better be a good one.”

  Jamie rubbed at his neck for a moment and watched me suspiciously. “Me too—I’m afraid to know what you’ll do to me if it’s not.”

  “That’s a healthy fear to have,” I muttered as I went to the box. I slid the ribbon off the package and lifted the lid. Thin layers of tissue paper covered what I assumed was a dress; paper cracked and crinkled as I pushed it back. Within was a crimson gown remarkably similar to the one I had worn the night before. Correction—not similar...exact.

  “Aw, you robbed a clothing store for me,” I said in a mock-sweet voice. “How nice of you.” I held up the dress for inspection, then checked the label. At least it wasn’t a knockoff.

  “If you’re going to be ungrateful, I’ll take it back.”

  “It won’t do you any good—only one place in town carries that designer, and they only give store credit.” I dropped the gown back in the box and turned to face him. Squared my shoulders, put my hands on my hips—it was my “I’m serious” stance. “I’m still mad at you.”

  His dark eyes widened. “But I replaced—”

  “As I seem to recall, you were more than eager to leave me in favour of finding O’Connor last night. That hurt.”

  “Well, you had already taken out my target—”

  “No, before that.”

  A look of understanding crossed his eyes, and he suddenly grinned. “I seem to recall you doing the same.”

  “Which was quite reasonable from my point of view, but certainly not from yours.”

  That lopsided grin got bigger. “Is that so?”

  “Yes, it is. I’m so much prettier than you. I mean, look at me.”

  “I am,” he replied, leaning in and kissing me.

  Perspective, Zara, I reminded myself. There was a time and place for such things...

  Jamie ran his fingers through my hair, tilting my head back and dragging his lips down my throat. A shiver ran down my spine. With one arm firmly around my waist, he eased me down to the bed, pushing aside the box and dress with his other hand. I arched back; the duvet went cold and wet beneath my damp hair.

  If you ask me, the need for perspective is overrated.

  Outside my room, the elevator door creaked open just as Jamie slid one warm hand into the front of my kimono.

  “Zara,” Nate called, his heavy footfalls thumping on the hardwood as he approached. He stuck his head in the doorway and I looked over at him.

  He said nothing as his gaze went from me to Jamie, then back to me again.

  “I see you’re someone’s type,” he finally said.

  I rolled my eyes. “Please, I’m sure anything with two legs and breasts is his type.”

  “Really, sweetheart,” Jamie said. “That was uncalled for—legs aren’t the prerequisite part.” He turned to Nate. “Hey kid, Mom and Dad are kind of busy right now.”

  “When you’re finished, I believe we have some work to do,” Nate said pointedly, then returned to the living room.

  Jamie chuckled. “You’re living with Junior?”

  I sighed. “Temporary alliance.”

  “Oh, the stories I could tell you about him,” he said. “But that would take too long, and I’ve got a few other thin
gs on my mind right now...”

  “A few things?”

  “Well...okay, just one.”

  Ugh. Horny male vampires. “Nate’s right—I have things to do.”

  “Nah, he can wait.” Jamie tipped his head down to kiss my shoulder. “I’m sure he can amuse himself for another hour or two.”

  I was already getting bored, but an attempt at rising didn’t get me too far. “C’mon, there are more important things going on. Besides, I told you I’m still mad at you.”

  “You don’t seem mad to me,” he said.

  I abruptly kneed him hard between the legs and he cried out. I pushed him off me. He doubled over as he hit the floor, muttering to himself.

  “And to think I was freaked out when I heard those Ratorth guys went after you.” He tried to stand. Failed.

  Yeah, I’d kneed him hard. “I assume you have some other purpose in being here.” I rose from the bed and sashayed toward my closet. “I would be interested in hearing about it after I get dressed. For now, you can sit in the living room and keep ‘Junior’ company. And try not to eat him.”

  ****

  I bound my hair up in a high ponytail and dressed in a pair of black low-rise jeans and charcoal-coloured tank top. Stealthy and stylish. I found Nate sitting on the couch and Jamie perched on the arm of a chair, testosterone snapping in the air like a rabid animal.

  “Dearest, we were just talking about you,” Jamie said as I joined them. “I was trying to assure young Nathan here that when I started sleeping with you I didn’t realize you were his girlfriend, but he doesn’t seem to believe me.”

  “No, I just don’t care.” Nate sent an annoyed glance my way.

  “Jamie,” I said, equally as irritated. “First of all, don’t call me ‘dearest.’ Second, you aren’t, in fact, sleeping with me, and you won’t ever be unless you start shutting up. Third, I’m not his girlfriend—he’s married. Or at least he was until she was killed last night.”

  “Your wife died?” Jamie said, looking over at Nate. “Is that why you’re in such a bad mood?”

  “Your inability to shut up is actually contributing more to that,” Nate replied sharply.