All That Bleeds

by Kimberly Frost

  Damn it!

  Alissa fought not to react. She held her breath, but she didn’t hear Merrick refuse.

  As they walked down the hall, they passed a lounge where Cerise, Ileana, Dorie, and Troy sat on couches. The flat-screen television played videos while they chatted and sipped gourmet coffee.

  Dorie looked up, a curious expression alight on her pretty face, then a slow smile formed, shaping Dorie’s mouth into a slight sneer. Alissa’s heart beat faster, and she frowned. How had she not realized sooner what a bitch Dorie had become?

  You’re made of ice. Nothing penetrates. Alissa inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Everything slides off without leaving a trace.

  The officer opened the door, and she found another ES man in the middle of fingerprinting her father.

  Merrick had been sitting alone in the interrogation room for about twenty minutes. When the door opened, he smelled musky jasmine perfume and knew his visitor wasn’t Alissa or more security officers. He glanced over as Dorie Xenakis sashayed in.

  “Hi,” she said, setting a soda down on the table in front of him. “I thought you might be thirsty.”

  “Thanks,” he said, making no move to take the can.

  “You and Alissa missed dinner,” she said, sitting in the chair next to him.

  This was a good sign. If they’d let another muse come in to talk to him, they must not suspect him of being a ventala. Of course, she might have slipped in on her own. She seemed to be good at taking initiative.

  “Right?” she asked, nodding at the untouched plates of food.

  “We didn’t have dinner.”

  “Was Alissa upset?” she asked, leaning closer to him. When he didn’t answer, she continued. “She’s been lying to everyone about her father. I understand why. She thought if the council knew, they wouldn’t give her the Wreath. But it would’ve been better if she’d just been honest, since they found out anyway.”

  Thanks to you, Merrick thought as a wave of cold fury rolled through him. He regretted the setting. There was nothing he could do to put a scare into her while under the watchful eye of Etherlin Security.

  He stared silently at Dorie.

  How far would you go to keep Alissa from getting the Wreath? Would you arrange for her to be taken by the syndicate? Maybe someone will show you the other side of the wall sometime.

  Dorie stretched out her arm and fingered his watch. “Omega? It’s beautiful.”

  Merrick left his arm flat on the table, watching her without answering. What was she up to?

  “With everything that’s happened, I’m sure that Cerise is going to be Wreath Muse now, and I bet Alissa won’t be traveling much for a while.” She rubbed the face of his watch with her fingertip. “You’re with that security firm in California, huh? I guess you’ll be helping with security for us when we travel there. Do you eat at the café across the street? What’s the name of it?”

  Testing me. “Pesce.”

  “I like the patio. It’s really nice.”

  “Pesce is closed.”

  “Oh. That’s too bad,” she said, tracing the space between his fingers. “But times change. Maybe something new and better will move in.” She looked up at him with doe eyes. “You have nice hands. Big.”

  The better to choke you with.

  “People are saying that you and Alissa are involved. Is that true?”

  “How is that your business?”

  She smiled and went back to tracing the space between his fingers, moving her finger closer, so that it ran along his. “It could be,” she whispered. “I’m more fun than she is. Guys in a position to know have said so.” She glanced up and licked her lips. “You’re interesting.”

  You have no idea how interesting I could become if you piss me off enough.

  Dorie moved her hands under the table, and he expected to feel them on him the next second. He contemplated his reaction, from doing nothing to shoving her chair back hard enough to tip her onto her treacherous ass. But seconds passed, and she didn’t touch him. Instead, she slid her chair a little farther away.

  Blood.

  Hunger roared through him. Rich, pure muse blood scented the air. His nostrils flared and his jaw dipped open, upper lips retracting. The involuntary response was strong. He snapped his mouth closed and clenched his teeth. His fangs descended, but with the glamour and his lips closed, they wouldn’t be seen.

  His senses heightened, the predator rising. He wanted to sink his teeth into her.

  She brought her hands back onto the table. A drop of crimson welled on the tip of her finger.

  “Pricked my finger on a thorn this morning. It keeps bleeding.”

  She extended her finger toward him, watching his eyes.

  He moved his hand to the corner of the table, bracing himself against the urge to grab her.

  “I wonder…” she murmured, standing up. “My sister, Cerise, and I met Len Mills in California. He was crazy for seafood,” she said, glancing at the untouched plate of salmon. “Went deep-sea fishing every weekend he wasn’t working. Raved about the restaurant across the street. Definitely didn’t smell like magic.” She looked Merrick up and down. “But you do.”

  He narrowed his eyes.

  She sucked the blood off her fingertip. “You have a secret,” she whispered. “If you do what I ask, I’ll keep it for you…Mr. Merrick.”

  Chapter 30

  “I don’t want to go anywhere,” Alissa’s dad said, rearranging his manuscript pages for the fifth time. “I’m getting a better signal here than ever. Helene’s communicating with me by satellite. It goes directly into my brain. It must be the altitude. Less cloud coverage and interference.”

  “It’s not satellite transmissions from the afterlife, Dad. All four of the most powerful muses on Earth are in the retreat center, along with the Wreath. You’re feeling concentrated magic. It reminds you of Mom.”

  “Andromeda, why are you here when you should be stealing fire from heaven?”

  Stealing fire? A reference to the Prometheus myth?

  “Heed Paddleford’s advice. Never grow a wishbone, daughter, where your backbone ought to be. Make your choice. And if you choose anything over love, you’re not the woman I wish you were.”

  She arched a brow at this simple, childlike perspective. If she succumbed to his suggestion of pursuing love at any cost, what would happen to him? He didn’t seem to recognize that he might end up in a small padded room without windows if she stopped protecting him. Cut off from his books and her mother’s memory, he’d spiral downward into misery. He’d done it before, and she’d had to rescue him. So many times.

  “I don’t have the luxury of only worrying about myself,” she said, but he didn’t acknowledge the remark. Instead, he glanced at the wall and nodded to the empty space as if it spoke to him.

  “You’re right, of course. The opening scene drags. I’m going to move the night march to the beginning and cut—”

  “Dad, what were you doing outside tonight?” she asked impatiently.

  “Tonight?”

  “You were outside earlier. That’s what they told me.”

  “Was I?” He paused. “That was tonight? Yes, I was working on a scene in the Bosnian woods, and I decided to stand outside without gloves to allow my hands to experience the cold. When I felt I had enough sensory details, I went up to the glass greenhouse to jot down some notes. On the way, I heard a noise. I thought it was an animal, and I wanted to see it, to watch the way it moved in the snow. My foot kicked the rock, and I picked it up. Warm and bloody. I didn’t expect to stumble on a freshly dead body. Shocking,” he said. “Really horrifying. Imagine how Sasha feels when he’s staring at Irina’s brother’s body in the mass grave…terrible. Excuse me. I need to make some more notes,” he said, and bent over his pages, scribbling furiously in the margins.

  Alissa stared at her father. She wasn’t even sure that he remembered who Theo Tobin was.

  “Did you see anyone other than the dead man, Dad?
Did you see the person who hurt him?”

  Someone outside the room screamed. Alissa’s head jerked toward the door as the screams continued. The security officers leapt from their seats, and she followed in their wake.

  “Lock it down!” someone shouted. “Now! Now!”

  Dorie stood in the hall surrounded by ES officers. Her blouse’s torn shoulder gaped open, and she held it in place as she spoke frantically through occasional sobs.

  “What’s happening?” Alissa demanded, pushing into the circle.

  “—bite me,” Dorie said, tears dripping from round eyes.

  No!

  “Where?” Alissa said sharply, grabbing Dorie’s hand and pulling it away from her throat and shoulder.

  “Stop,” Dorie snapped, yanking herself back from Alissa. “It’s your fault.”

  Alissa recoiled, the shock and guilt slicing like a knife.

  “It’s your fault for bringing him here.”

  Alissa stepped back, her gaze sweeping over Dorie. There was no blood, no wound.

  There’s no bite. He didn’t bite her! Alissa’s hammering pulse slowed. She’s a lying little bitch.

  “Where are you bitten?” Alissa asked coolly.

  “I didn’t say he bit me. I said he tried to bite me. He’s a filthy ventala.” She broke down again, sobbing. The security officers fawned over her, and so did Troy and Ileana.

  “Cerise!” Dorie said, launching herself at her sister as she approached. Cerise hugged the girl, who was the picture of fragility.

  “What’s going on?” Cerise asked.

  Alissa walked away from them to the door of the large interrogation room. She pulled the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge.

  “Miss North, can you come with me?” an officer said.

  “Let’s look at the footage. There’s a security camera in the room, right?” Alissa asked.

  “He threatened me! He tried to bite me!” Dorie said shrilly.

  A few moments of noisy chaos ensued. Alissa resisted being ushered back to the interrogation room with her father. Instead, she insisted on being taken into the control room to see the surveillance file.

  “Something’s wrong. It looks like—”

  “What?” Alissa demanded.

  “Somehow, the feed from that room wasn’t being recorded.”

  “Convenient,” Alissa said, folding her arms across her chest.

  Dorie sniffed. “I told you what happened. Cerise, you said—you said he seemed different. That’s why. He’s under a glamour.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Alissa said. “You misunderstood what happened. Or you’re purposely trying to deceive us. Maybe in another attempt to sabotage my bid for the Wreath. Like kidnapping my father and bringing him here.”

  “Kidnapping!” Dorie scoffed. “You said he was fine, then you left him home. I thought you didn’t know families were welcome. I brought him so he could be part of the festivities.”

  “Sure, and you didn’t notice anything amiss? You didn’t tell him I was in trouble to lure him into your car?”

  Dorie glared at her. “You said he was fine. You lied.”

  “His condition waxes and wanes. It’s near the anniversary of my mother’s death, which is always a tough time for us. What I said was that he’s writing again.”

  “He’s completely crazy!”

  “Is he writing again? Did he bring his manuscript to the retreat center? I bet he edited pages the entire drive.”

  “Don’t try and twist things,” Dorie said.

  “I’m not the one twisting things.” Alissa turned to security officers. “Unlock the door to the interrogation room. I want to hear Mr. Mills’s side of the story.”

  “What’s going on?” Grant asked as he walked into the central post.

  It took a few minutes for Dorie to repeat her story. Alissa walked to the console and watched as Grant flicked on the camera.

  Merrick, in the Mills guise, sat in a chair, legs stretched out in front of him, arms folded across his chest.

  “There,” Alissa said. “Does that look like someone who just attacked a teenage girl?”

  “No, but actually, Alissa, he looks too calm. He must’ve heard the commotion in the hall and the doors lock.”

  Alissa lowered her voice. “Listen, Grant, I know she’s lying.”

  “I am not lying!”

  “You are.”

  “You weren’t there,” Grant said.

  “Exactly. She doesn’t know what happened,” Dorie said.

  “I know this much. Other than a torn blouse, there isn’t a mark on her. I saw Merrick slay a demon in 2007. I witnessed a ventala attack at Handyrock’s less than forty-eight hours ago. Ventala are blindingly fast, incredibly strong. If that man in there was ventala and he’d wanted to bite her, she would have been bitten. Period.”

  Dorie blushed. “He threatened and attacked me. He reacted to my blood. I’m telling you, Grant, he’s not human.”

  “What blood?”

  “I cut myself on a rose thorn earlier, and while I was talking to him, it started to bleed again.”

  “Just like that? It started to bleed again? Or with a little help from you?” Alissa demanded, rolling her eyes. She would not let Dorie get Merrick arrested. “Open the door, Grant.”

  “Open the door to the observation area only,” Grant said to one of the security officers stationed at the desk.

  Alissa fell in step behind him.

  “No, you can watch from here, Alissa. I’m going to talk to Mills alone.”

  “He’s my bodyguard. I’d like to come.”

  Grant stopped. “This is an ES matter. Your preference doesn’t enter into it.”

  “Grant,” she said imploringly.

  He jerked filter earplugs from his pocket and put them in his ear canals, a precaution against her using her power to persuade him. Not a good sign.

  “You heard what I said, Alissa. You wait here.”

  When Grant Easton came into the observation area, Merrick got up and tried the door. It was still locked. The reinforced steel had a silver overlay. Strong. Heavy. The sort of door that even a ventala couldn’t break through. An interesting choice for a retreat center that was supposed to be remote and completely secure.

  “Mr. Mills,” Easton said.

  “How are Richard and Alissa North?”

  “They’re fine. I was surprised to find that you’d been involved in an altercation.”

  “An altercation?” Merrick shook his head.

  “What happened with Dorie Xenakis?”

  “She talked and left.”

  “You didn’t try to prevent her from leaving?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t touch her?”

  Merrick shook his head.

  Grant leaned closer to the thick glass that separated the observation room from the interrogation room. “She says you did.”

  Merrick shrugged.

  “We have sensors here that pick up magical energy. You set them off. What magic are you using?”

  “A protection spell.”

  “Contained in an amulet or charm?”

  “Magic’s not outlawed.”

  “That depends on what you use it for.”

  “You know what is illegal? Detaining someone without cause,” Merrick said.

  “I have cause. Dorie Xenakis has accused you of assault.”

  “So arrest me.”

  Grant clenched his jaws.

  “I didn’t think so,” Merrick said. “The girl’s a liar. She’s lucky she’s a kid, or I’d see her in court. Now, open the door.”

  “Let me examine the magical object you’re wearing.”

  “Link it to a crime.”

  “There are plenty of judges who will give me a court order based on what I have right now. A dead body. An accusation by a muse. An outsider who snuck into the Etherlin without ES clearance. I reviewed the checkpoint logs, and there’s no record of you entering the Etherlin. If Alissa North didn’t br
ing you through, how did you get in?”

  “Have you finished questioning Alissa and Richard North?”

  “Not your concern.”

  “I have reason to believe she’s in danger. You can hold them at ES main headquarters in the Etherlin without compromising the investigation. And if you send them down the mountain, I’ll be more cooperative.”

  “No one’s going anywhere until things are sorted out.”

  “Then I should add that if you don’t send them down the mountain, I’ll be less cooperative.”

  “Meaning?”

  Merrick walked away from the glass divider and sat down.

  Easton leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I’ve spoken to Len Mills dozens of times. You’re not him.”

  Merrick didn’t answer.

  “If you’re ventala, you might as well get used to being in a locked box, because when I prove it, a cage is where you’ll spend the rest of your life—which actually won’t be that long.”

  “If you waste your night trying to break me and something happens to Alissa North, you and I are going to have a serious problem.”

  “Stop running your mouth about Alissa North. She is not now, nor will she ever again be, your responsibility.”

  Merrick turned his head slowly and locked eyes with Grant Easton. The stare was brutal enough to bludgeon a weak man. Easton blinked, but didn’t step back.

  “Do your job then. Protect her, Easton. Like your life depends on it.”

  “Jesus,” one of the officers at the console said.

  Alissa’s heart pounded. He is going to get himself killed.

  Everyone in the room stared at the screen, watching as Merrick leaned back in his chair. Her mind raced until it settled on one thought with perfect clarity. Even with his amazing control, Merrick would not be able to conceal who he was for much longer. He’d been under the thumb of the ultimate brutal authority figure as a child. That struggle to survive had shaped him. His whole identity had been built on his ability to absorb pressure without breaking under its force and on a need to openly defy anyone who tried to control him.

  Grant burst into the room, pointing his finger at Alissa. “Did you know?”

  “Know what?” she asked. “That Len Mills was tough, ex-military, and intimidating? I did suspect. I assumed that’s why you contracted with his firm.”