Matters of the Blood

by Maria Lima

I joined in his laughter. My poor cousin.

  John sobered. “I'm sorry. I had to have Lise escort him out."

  "Lise?"

  "One of the security staff,” John replied. “She followed him out to the mortuary to make sure he left. As far as I know, he never came back."

  No doubt. Marty didn't like conflict. He'd never have come back to a place that had him escorted out by security.

  "Were there many people on premises when Marty was here?"

  John thought a moment, then shook his head. “That was before the main hotel staff even arrived,” he said. “I believe it was only myself and my family, plus a few of the senior staff—and security, of course. I believe all the laborers had gone by that time."

  "Senior staff?"

  "Niko, Andrea, Evan,” he replied.

  Evan. That figured. Maybe when this Lise had taken Marty away, Evan had seen them and stopped them and that's how he'd hooked up with my cousin. I wondered where Lise was. I asked John.

  "She's gone back to Europe,” he said. “Just left last night. Didn't like it around here."

  "Does Adam know about this?"

  "About her leaving? Yes."

  "Did Adam know about Marty coming around?"

  "No. I didn't know it was important until now. We had various other trespassers try to get on property until the gate was installed. Lise or someone else would usually take care of it."

  Made sense to me. Lise was probably nothing to worry about.

  "You've been with Adam a long time,” I said. “How do you like it?"

  John's answer was instant and unambiguous. “He's an excellent employer. I've been with him most of my life. Working for him since I was twenty-two."

  "What made you decide to work for...” I hesitated, not sure how to phrase my question. “Or maybe you had no choice?"

  John smiled. “To work for vampires? It's not a dirty word, you know. I did have a choice."

  "I know,” I replied. “I'm just not used to talking to other people about stuff like this."

  "Not the kind of conversation one can have over billiards and a pint at the local pub,” he agreed.

  "Too true. So you did have a choice?"

  "Absolutely. Even though my family has been with Adam's tribe for several generations, we may choose to stay or to leave. I left for university. Studied hotel management, then came back to run his place in London. Now I'm here. He's a good employer. Takes care of his people."

  "Tribe? Is that what they call it?” I laughed. “I suppose that's no worse than ‘clan'."

  A muffled sound came from my pocket. The phone again. I pulled it out and glanced at the display, but I didn't recognize the number on the screen.

  "Hello?"

  "It's Carlton,” he said without preliminary.

  John smiled, mouthed a goodbye, then disappeared out the door. I turned my attention to the phone.

  "What's up, Carlton?"

  "Still at the ranch?” he asked.

  "Is that why you called?"

  "Not really."

  I waited, unwilling to get into it again with him. If he had a legitimate reason for calling, he'd better be telling me in the next few seconds, or I was going to hang up.

  A sigh came over the other end of the phone. “I just got to the truck."

  "Any sign of the Albrights?"

  "Not a one, but there were a couple of coolers in the bed."

  "Coolers? I don't understand."

  "Beer coolers. Smeared with what looks like blood. There's a couple of broken mason jars, too, also stained. I'm going to send them off for testing. Just thought you'd want to know."

  "How long do you think you'll be?"

  "I don't know, a couple of hours or so,” he said. “But Keira, we won't know the results of the tests right away. I'll have to send them to Bexar County."

  "Thanks."

  Before he could say another word, I hit the button to disconnect the call. It had taken a second for the clue bat to hit me. Beer coolers. Igloo coolers, no doubt, just like the one that Derek was carrying when I'd seen him in the mortuary. The day Marty was killed.

  I dialed a number. There was one person I knew could help me out.

  After a couple of endless rings, a voice answered. “Wassup, little sis?"

  "A lot. Put your pants back on, bro, I need a favor."

  I quickly ran down what Carlton had said.

  "They're at the old quarry?"

  "Yeah,” I said. “The one out near the county border. Hurry, Tucker. If they send off those coolers, we may never know."

  "Don't worry,” he said. “I'll take care of it."

  I hung up. Now, there was only one thing left to do.

  I was halfway out the door when Adam and Andrea arrived.

  "Where are you going?"

  "To the mortuary,” I said. “And you two are coming with me."

  Adam took my arm and stopped me. “A moment, Keira. What's going on?"

  "I need to look at something at the mortuary. I need you to go with me; Andrea, too."

  "Andrea is going to San Antonio to check your cousin's body."

  "Well, whatever, but I still have to go and I need a vampire to go with me."

  "You still haven't told me what's going on, Keira."

  I blew out a breath in impatience and quickly told him about Carlton's call.

  "Tucker's going to go out to the scene. See if he can ‘accidentally’ check out those coolers. See if they have human blood on them. If they do, then I can safely assume it's Marty's and they—"

  Adam grabbed me again, and pulled me around to face him. His eyes glittered and his voice was quiet. “Keira, wait. There's something you need to hear."

  I stopped trying to move, frozen by something that ran through me, suspiciously close to fear. I wasn't afraid of Adam, but afraid of what he might be about to tell me. I don't know how I knew. Maybe it was the undercurrent I heard when he spoke, the trembling energy I could feel him holding back.

  "Let's go back to the office. I'd rather not talk about this in the hall."

  I let him lead me inside, this time we sat on the couch in the reception area. Andrea walked behind us and shut the door after she entered.

  "When I went out, I met Andrea at Evan's house."

  "And?"

  I waited in silence, not saying anything because of his expression. The look on his face was one of defeat, of sorrow and anger and frustration.

  "We found something."

  I'd never heard him sound so very tired. The rich goodness of his voice was gone, replaced by an emptiness that scared me.

  Blood. I sensed the word more than heard it, the memory of the visions I'd had racing through my mind. They were always about blood.

  "Jars, some empty, some not. I smelled it before I even opened the refrigerator door."

  I looked over at Andrea who stood against the wall, every inch of her the bodyguard. She stared steely-eyed into the distance, as if unwilling to look at me, or even at Adam. Her arms crossed below her breasts, legs slightly apart in a ready stance. Muscles bunched below the knit fabric of her slacks, her thighs slim, yet strong. I could feel the tension radiating off her, energy storming just below the surface of tightly held barriers.

  "Not deer blood, then.” It wasn't a question. I knew.

  "No, it's not."

  In contrast to Andrea's barely controlled energy, Adam's aura was preternaturally still. He sat only ten or so inches away from me, but I felt nothing, an utter blank, all emotion swallowed inside of him, into a blackness so deep, I couldn't touch him. Not physically, but psychically. It was if he'd cut himself off. He stared down at the carpet, his face smooth and expressionless. I reached for him, but he slid away.

  "Do you think it was Marty's blood?” I ventured the question, almost afraid, but more afraid of not knowing.

  Adam didn't react at first, then, when I was sure he hadn't heard me, he began to turn his head, a movement so slow it was as if every muscle in his head, neck an
d shoulders fought the very air. I looked into his expressionless face, all expression, all life had drained from his eyes.

  "No.” The word was barely a whisper of agony. He shuddered, taking in a breath he didn't need, his head dropping into his hands.

  "Adam, what?” I slid across the couch and wrapped my arms around him, cradling his head to my shoulder. I snapped at Andrea.

  "What the hell happened out there?"

  She broke the unseeing stare and looked at me. “It was human blood. From many different humans."

  "Holy shit,” I said. “Many? As in more than one?” I knew I wasn't making any sense but I didn't want to let it sink in.

  Andrea nodded. “Many."

  Adam sat up, pulling away from me, staring at the opposite wall.

  "Many as in at least ten, maybe more."

  What the—? “Adam, how? Why?"

  His voice was harsh, bitter. “The ‘why’ I know,” he said. “It's what we do, isn't it? Feed. Bleed others to sustain ourselves.” He turned haunted eyes back to me. “When Niko told me about the animals, I didn't like it. I wanted to stop all hunting. Cold turkey as it were. But I understood Niko and can even see where it might be beneficial. But this—not this. Not here."

  "Shshh,” I reached over to him and took his hand. “You couldn't have known."

  "I should have known,” he snapped. “I am the master here. I should have known and been able to stop it."

  I couldn't answer. He wasn't wrong. A good leader should always know what his troops, or minions, are doing. Even if you don't, you're ultimately responsible. Part of the raw deal.

  A terrible thought occurred to me.

  "Adam,” I began, hesitant to bring this up, but seeing no other way around it. “Where did Evan get all that human blood?"

  "I don't know,” he whispered, voice raw with pain.

  "There have been no humans here at the ranch.” Andrea spoke quietly, but with conviction. “No outsiders. He must have been hunting in town."

  I snorted, almost a laugh. “In this town? I doubt it. There's fewer than a couple of thousand people in the entire county. I think someone would have noticed Evan. I think your boy was ranging further out. San Antonio maybe, Blanco? Wherever. He wasn't feeding from this local trough."

  "He was here every night,” Adam said. “At the bar, patrolling, somewhere on property."

  "How do you know?” I asked, allowing a little of the sarcasm to leak through. I was sickened by this new revelation, but not surprised. Predators will hunt and feed. Adam had just made a bad mistake with Evan, assuming he'd accepted the local master's rules. Evidently not.

  "I know, Keira,” Adam said quietly. “Evan may have been chief of inside security, but I never trusted him completely. There was always someone watching him."

  "Except tonight."

  Adam grimaced, guilt washing over his features. “Except tonight,” he admitted. He stared at me, his eyes both sad and tired. “Distractions, you see."

  I gulped. Damn. It did work both ways, didn't it? He'd been my distraction, and I'd been his.

  "Then how—?” I stopped as the realization hit me. “Marty."

  Adam's expression immediately changed. The weariness left with a startling suddenness, replaced by horror and the terrible knowledge that was beginning to dawn in my own mind.

  I could barely get the words out. “It wasn't just the poaching,” I said. “No one would pay that much money to simply remove a few dead animal carcasses. Not even your not-wanting-to-get-caught vampires, Adam."

  I stood up and began to pace, my fury mingling with guilt and embarrassment. “I don't know if you know this, but in Texas, when a body is prepared for embalming, the blood is pumped out, washed down the drain."

  Andrea shuddered a little, the distaste showing. “Into the sewage system?"

  I nodded, not sure if she was upset because it was gross, or because of the waste of all that food.

  "There was no scent of fresh blood in the mortuary,” Adam said, standing and crossing the room to join me. He put his hands on my upper arms, his gaze searching for mine.

  I dropped my head, not wanting to see the accusation I expected in his eyes.

  "Yeah,” I said. “The only blood you smelled was old. There should have been more. Even though the place is washed down all the time. You should have smelled fresher blood in the pipes. Tucker didn't smell anything either. ‘Too sterile', he said."

  Adam took my chin in his hand and raised my face, forcing me to look at him.

  "Can you ... can vampires eat blood from the dead?” I asked.

  He nodded, still holding my chin. “As long as it's not too old,” he said. “It begins to decompose immediately, but if we drink, or refrigerate it within a few hours, it's usable."

  I closed my eyes against the tears I felt building. This was my fault.

  "You didn't know, Keira,” Adam said, gently. “You couldn't have known."

  I pulled away from him and stalked to the other side of the room, brushing at my eyes, angry at my tears, angry at my dead cousin.

  "I should have known. Just as you should have known about Evan. Marty was my responsibility. My burden."

  I didn't want to think about it. If we were right, my cousin had gleefully packaged up blood from the recently deceased and just as cheerfully sold it to Evan. I'd bet anything that the Albrights and the poaching were only an afterthought. Another way to eke out some cash from the vampire group.

  "I'm sorry, Keira,” Adam said. He was right beside me again. I hadn't seen him move. Handy trick that.

  "Sorry, Adam? Why are you sorry?"

  He stroked my hair, then cupped my face in his hand. “Because I caused all of this. Because I wanted to be here so much that I brought death and danger to your life. If I hadn't come—"

  "Stop it,” I whispered, already lost in his gaze again. I could see the anguish, the guilt written all over the clear green eyes, the chiseled planes of his face. “It wasn't you. It wasn't me. It was Marty. His greed. His need to be more than he was.” I reached up and touched Adam's cheek lightly, tracing the angular curve of his cheekbone with my thumb.

  "If it hadn't been Evan, it would have been someone else,” I said. “Some other squeeze-money scheme cooked up by my cousin."

  "I promise we'll find Evan,” Adam said. “He will pay for this."

  Andrea cleared her throat. I'd forgotten she was there. For a few moments, my world had shrunk again, only me, only Adam. Two people with more than human lives twisted together by Fate, by circumstances and by whatever made us need each other. But Andrea made me remember there were others involved.

  "The rest of Evan's crew is waiting, Adam,” she said, as if reading my mind. “We'll need to speak to them."

  He nodded, still staring at me. “Niko's sent a group out to track Evan,” he said to me. “I need to question his staff."

  I allowed myself a small smile and a final caress of his cheek. “I understand,” I said. “Why don't I wait at your place?"

  Adam smiled back, a little of tonight's earlier fire back in his eyes. He leaned forward and brushed a brief kiss across my lips. “I won't be long."

  * * * *

  I took my time walking back over to Adam's house. I wanted to think, to process everything. We had no proof, but it was the best explanation I could come up with. It fit all the evidence. Evan, rebelling at Adam's no-hunt, no-humans policy met up with my stupid cousin, who'd visited the ranch only to sell pre-need funeral contracts. No doubt the recently departed Lise had something to do with Marty and Evan hooking up. I'd bet anything that she'd been his vampire lover and Evan had taken advantage of the situation. In fact, knowing my cousin's nature, I wouldn't be surprised to find out he'd been the one to approach Evan with the plan. That's something none of us would find out until Evan was caught.

  One thing bothered me, though. What had Marty done to get himself killed? If he was supplying Evan with fresh human blood, why would the vampire kill his only supply? T
his was the same question Carlton asked about the Albrights. No one kills the cow while she's still producing milk. Unless Marty had done something stupid. Maybe he'd threatened Evan, tried to hold out for more money.

  No. Marty was many things, but he wasn't that stupid. He'd found a ready source of cash with the vampires, he wouldn't have jeopardized that. Now, on the other hand, the Albrights were stupid. Maybe they'd been the ones ... but then again, they weren't the dead ones here.

  I rubbed my forehead trying to scrub away the confusion. Until Evan was found and questioned, we'd never know why Marty was dead.

  Rain began to fall as I rounded the corner of the back of the Inn and stepped onto the gravel path leading to Adam's house. I hurried my pace, but as I started down a small incline, my boots slipped on a wet patch and I fell. My right knee slammed into the gravel, skidding across the small stones. My right hand scraped across the ground, searing a fiery path across the palm. Damn.

  I got up slowly, testing my knee. It ached but was okay. There would probably be a heck of a bruise in the morning, unless my super healing kicked in. I knew that was part of my great good fortune in being who I was, but I hadn't had a chance to test it out since I'd begun to change. I could have cheerfully waited to test my healing abilities for a long time. At least my slacks hadn't ripped.

  My hand was in worse shape, oozing blood and stinging, but I could clean it when I got to the house. Since I was already as wet as I could get, I'd walk the rest of the way. I didn't want to risk slipping again.

  The light overhead flickered as I walked by it. There, again. All the outdoor lamps were flickering. I turned to look at the Inn. Dark windows stared back at me in mute acknowledgement of the fact the power was out. As I stared, the outdoor lamps joined in the outage. A few breaths later, a few of the low pathway lights came back on. I could see a gentle glow from some of the previously darkened windows. Someone must have cranked on an emergency generator.

  I stood there in the rain. Should I go back to the main Inn to what was sure to be minor chaos? Or I could pick my way back to the cottage and spend the power outage in relative quiet, waiting for Adam, waiting for any news. I chose the quiet. Besides, there were plenty of candles.

  The few pathway lights faded to none by the time I reached the outskirts of Adam's house. I walked slowly, shuffling my feet and feeling my way past the edge of his porch. My great night vision wasn't of much use in this misty rain. My foot found the cobblestones that marked the boundary of the path up to my porch steps. I walked a little more confidently, intermittent flashes of lightning in the distance illuminating enough of the path making it easier for me to walk a little more quickly—a mistake. I misjudged the distance. My right foot hit the bottom step, the impact reverberating up to my sore knee. “Shit!” I said aloud.