Mixed Blessing (Mixed Blessing Mystery, Book 1)

by Nicola Claire

  And Stu was neither of those. And if this smell was present at the Alison Danvers murder scene, then that was proof positive that he wasn't to blame. The same smell at both scenes, this one clearly making an escape, could only mean one thing. The murderer was either vampire or fairy. Not human. Not Stu.

  How the hell was I going to get Mark to understand that?

  Chapter 5

  Fright

  I trudged back up the incline, pulling on branches and leaves and scrabbling up over loose stones and dirt. You'd think being part vampire I'd have some magical way of appearing more athletic than this. I could try flashing, but it was my guess that that would only lead to preternaturally speedy grazes and scratches. I might as well do it all at human speed. At least this way I could pretend the scratches and grazes were being minimized.

  I made it to the top breathing heavily and with my heart about to leap out of my chest. I chastised myself for my lack of control and made a concerted effort to rein in my wayward bodily parts. I'm a vampire, damn it, I don't need to breathe and beat my heart. After thirty seconds or so, all evidence of my humanity had disappeared. Great. Like a bloody on-off switch. I had to invest in a dimmer.

  I bled back out into the shadows and scanned the busy area for Mark. He was down by a cop car, talking to a uniformed officer. It was now or never, he was near the yellow tape, I could get his attention from the right side of the cordon and work some magic there.

  I flashed through the shadows and casually walked out from under the awning of the Grafton Oaks Brasserie and Bar, dusting down the remnants of dirt that was still doggedly clinging to my jeans. There was a crowd, which was good and bad. I wasn't so noticeable in amongst the throng, just another black clad night time gawker come to see all the fuss. But, getting to the front of the melee was going to take brute strength or a sweet smile. None of which was an optimal choice. I couldn't risk glazing too many people either, it just wasn't worth being caught out. I'd save my glaze for Mark.

  I was just about to wrangle my way through the back row of the audience when I felt a firm, hard hand on my shoulder. Before turning around to see who was being overly touchy, I took a deep breath in.

  Fuck-a-friggin'-duck. What the hell was he doing here? Again.

  I turned slowly and looked up into the slightly glowing eyes of Jett Vardi.

  "Master of the City," I said only loud enough for him to hear. "What brings you out on this fine night?"

  "I could say the same of you, Georgia." His eyes flashed azure, then quickly returned to a stunning baby blue.

  I chanced another breath in through my nose and registered that stringent ammonia again. Jett just wasn't a happy camper this evening, was he? Well, I could hardly say I was out on a hunt, Jett didn't even know what I was. Well, he knew half of what I was, but not the other half. So, what had Doug used as an excuse for my absence tonight? I'd have to chance it.

  "We ran out of limes, I was just grabbing some from the bar here. They often have an overflow and share with the rest of us when we get caught out." Fuck, that was pathetic.

  "You ran out last Tuesday, if I remember correctly. How is it you have not remedied this shortfall by now?"

  Hmm. "South America’s all the rage in the clubs lately, we've had a run on Caipiroskas. Gotta have those lime wedges on the side or the customers complain."

  His lips did that funny quirky thing again at the edges and I caught a hint of toffee on the air. I was betting it was sticky. Amused then, at my expense. I smiled sweetly up at him and he growled. Low, soft, almost intimately. I blinked. Wow, Jett really was full of surprises tonight.

  "Go back to the bar and wait for me in my office." He turned on his heel and I almost laughed out loud. Sure, anything you say, Master.

  Suddenly, the full force of his Sanguis Vitam slammed into me, rocking me back a step or two as I battled to force it out of my body and out of my mind. He was not my master. He may have been my boss and the Master of the City I lived in, but he did not have control like that over me. I felt sweat stream down my temples and trickle down my cheeks. My fists were clenched so tightly I could feel my nails drawing blood in my palms. I'd stopped breathing, stopped blinking, stopped the beat of my heart. I was doing everything in my power to keep his Sanguis Vitam out, but it was useless.

  I am the equivalent of a level four Sanguis Vitam master. A miracle as I am newly turned and usually you don't reach master status until about 100 years or so. But Jett, he's a level one and also the Master of the City. I'm not sure what extra juice that role gives him, but right now I was guessing a hell of a lot.

  "Go to my office and wait for me." His words were whispered in my ear. It wasn't in my head, it was definitely a whisper in my ear. I could feel his hot breath against the skin beneath my lobe. Yet Jett wasn't even talking. I could also see him waiting patiently for Mark to walk over at the edge of the yellow taped cordon several feet away. His mouth hadn't even opened, but was set in a grim, determined and downright angry line.

  Shit, this was bad. I turned slowly, feeling a little of that overbearing power abate and took a step back towards Grafton Bridge and Sensations. Each further step I took his power lessened, or more accurately changed. It was still with me, still very much pushing up against my back, urging me forward and away from the crime scene.

  The closer I came to Sensations the more it became obvious I didn't have a choice. I tried to walk off down Queen Street, but Jett's Sanguis Vitam simply swatted me on the back and pushed me toward the club. The bouncer opened the door, casting a cringed look over my body. God knows what he saw, but he was one of Jett's, he was part of his line. Maybe he recognised his master's power signature. Maybe Jett had told him telepathically I was on bad behaviour, heading for a whole lot of whoop-ass.

  I crossed the clubroom floor, vamps watching my every step with eager and hungry eyes. I held my head high and did not look at Doug behind the bar. If Jett wanted all the vamps to know I was in trouble, I was not going to show I cared. Halfway across the floor I felt a warmth at my side and a familiar and very unwanted scent. Pine needles and musk.

  "What have you done, Gigi?"

  I didn't bother to look at Samson, I didn't need to see his face mirroring the fear I was beginning to feel inside. Jett was mightily pissed off with me and wanted every vampire in this club to know. I didn't think for a second, that Samson wasn't aware of the trouble I was in.

  "Nothing for you to fret over," I gritted between clenched teeth as little spikes of pain shot down my spine. Jett obviously didn't want me to talk.

  "Do you want some support? If not me, then perhaps Lucinda?"

  I shook my head as the private door to Jett's quarters opened before me, nobody held it open, it just swung away as I approached. I swallowed, no doubt visibly and continued down the hall to Jett's office. Hoping that once I made it the uncomfortable feeling of all that Sanguis Vitam would abate.

  Samson didn't come with me. I was pretty sure he couldn't even if he had tried. The door to the hallway shut with a final click at my back and plunged me into the dark. It didn't matter, I could still see. I also knew my way blindfolded to Jett's office. I'd been called there a few times already since my life abruptly crashed and burned two months ago.

  I walked into his office, the lights coming slowly brighter with each step I took. Gingerly sitting myself down in the plushly upholstered chair in front of his large, oak, antique desk, I sighed out in relief as the power of Jett's influence evaporated. Only to gasp as it slammed back into me locking my arms securely to the rests of the chair I sat on.

  "Mother fucker!" I said loudly.

  "That'll be enough of that, Miss Deverell. You and I need to talk. And there is no way you are leaving until we are well and truly done."

  Jett breezed in and stalked around to the other side of the desk, removing his suit jacket and hanging it up on a coat hanger attached to a stand. His grey shirt rippled across his broad back as he loosened his tie and then he turned and pierced me with
his fully azure and turquoise eyes. I barely noticed the crooked bend to his nose, those eyes held me captive and made me want to sink into the fabric of the seat I was on and simply disappear.

  The Master of Auckland City was fuming and I really didn't know why.

  I swallowed and sucked in a slow breath and held his gaze. How dare he treat me like a lowly member of his line. He was my boss, nothing else. This is why I refused to join his or anyone else's line. I would not be subjected to the archaic parameters of the vampire world. I was not his to control or manipulate. I was not his to order around outside of what is required to do my job behind the bar of his club. Sure, I was skipping work for a private matter, but Doug had given permission and as he was my immediate boss, Jett had no right to take this further. If anything, Doug was the one who should be reaming me out. And not because I was at a crime scene, but because I had led him to believe I was on a hunt. Jett didn't know I was Nothus, he didn't know that half of me was Nosferatin. Therefore, he had no reason to call me out on where I was or why I was there. So screw him.

  My chin lifted, my eyes narrowed and - whether or not it was the wisest thing to do right then - I let my fangs descend and I flashed him a snarl.

  He blinked, slowly, then flashed his own longer fangs back at me with a much more convincing growl accompanying them than mine.

  "Do not test me, vampire. I am the Master of this City. I could have you banned from its borders. Have every vampire within chase you across the perimeter and never let you back in."

  I shrugged, not feeling in the slightest the nonchalance I had been going for. "Wellington is nice. I'm sure I could get Lucinda to arrange for the Master of the City there to let me move in." Lucinda had a strong friendship with the Master of Wellington City. I don't know why, but that was Lucinda for you. Friends in high places.

  Jett grimaced, I was thinking it might have been in disgust. Then he spoke and removed all shadow of doubt.

  "You are quite prepared to hide behind her offer of protection, yet you will not accept her offer of friendship."

  He had me there though. He was right. It kind of disgusted me too. But what could I do? I can't trust her. I can't trust anyone. I trusted Samson once and look where that got me.

  Jett's stance relaxed marginally, a brief flicker of comprehension flashed across his handsome face. I narrowed my eyes further at him. Just what did he see, hear, sense when he looked at me? We sat in silence for some time, neither willing to give an inch to the other. I don't know if I was just in the mood for a fight, it was quite plausible. Ever since I was turned against my will, I've kind of had a hell of a lot of pent up anger. But, asking for a fight with the Master of the City was suicidal. Was I really that far gone I would seek the final death this way?

  I urged myself to relax. Well, as much as I could relax with my arms forcibly attached the chair rests. I rolled my neck on my shoulders and withdrew my fangs in an effort to show compliance. I wasn't really agreeing with a damn thing he had to say, I was just doing what I needed to do to survive. Jett did not withdraw his own fangs, but his shoulders relaxed slightly and the stringent smell of ammonia left the air.

  At least I was picking up emotional scents again.

  "What were you doing at the police station and at the crime scene tonight?" Jett's voice was surprisingly calm and level. Not a hint of the former anger there at all.

  "What were you doing there?" I countered before I could stop myself.

  He sighed. "Georgia, I ask the questions, not you." He said it as though he was exasperated, as though I was some child who didn't know the rules. Well, technically, he was right. I was still finding my way in this new Dark world. Lucinda helped as much as she could and as much as I let her, but I still felt a little lost in amongst all the rules and regulations and red tape the vampires lived in. I was guessing I got away with a lot more than an older vamp would, purely because I was so young in vampire years. I wasn't sure how long I could continue to count on that defence before my luck ran out.

  From tonight's experience, I was thinking time was no longer on my side.

  Jett repeated his question and some bizarre, suicidal part of me wanted to repeat my answer back at him again. Thankfully I held my tongue, but that quirky lip thing Jett does graced his face, somehow making him seem more approachable than he usually did.

  "I was curious," is all I offered.

  "And the police station?"

  "Mark is an old school friend, I wanted to catch up."

  Jett studied me for a moment. "How much of an old school friend is he?"

  I wasn't sure where he was going with this, but decided I'd play along for now. "I used to date his brother. He was always quite friendly with me. I need a friend right now."

  Jett's face softened again. Remarkably. I didn't think he was capable of compassion, but he appeared to be exuding it in spades. The scent of calming chamomile tea swirled around my senses.

  "Are you attracted to him?" I think that question surprised Jett as much as it surprised me.

  "Um... yeah, sure. He was popular in school. Captain of the first fifteen rugby team. What's not to like."

  Jett glanced away. Until then he had been holding my gaze rigidly. I waited, what else could I do? My arms were still firmly secured to the sides of my chair.

  He stood abruptly and started pacing. I was picking up mild scents of apple mixed with lime and then pungent scents of strong rosemary mixed with garlic. Slightly confused, followed by determination, or more precisely a decision made. I held my breath.

  "You shall start dating him." What the? "Get close to him and find out as much as you can about these murders. We need to know what's going on and he is slightly resistant to my glaze. He has some natural psychic abilities, which allow him to block deeper thoughts to a certain degree."

  He swung back around to face me and blanched. I'm betting he was getting a whole lot of pissed off on my face right then. Even my damn fangs had shot back out.

  "What would make you think," I spoke very slowly, "that I will just jump at your command?" In your dreams, bud!

  He was in front of me in an instant. The moment I registered my arms were no longer glued to the armrests of my chair, he had a beefy hand around my throat and my body pressed hard against the far wall. I hadn't even picked up on the move. One minute sitting, the next slammed into plasterboard, chunks of it raining down to the floor from around me. There would undoubtedly be a Gigi-sized body shape embedded in the wall when this was all over. And shit, did my head throb. I felt my Sanguis Vitam climb in an effort to heal the injuries, his climbed in response to mine.

  A buzzing filled the air, a dense hum-like sound, a thousand bees threatening to sting. He leaned in closer, his hot breath washing over my cheek. "You are like a little wild cat with claws." He inhaled deeply, brought his face in a few millimetres closer and whispered, "Fight me, kitten. I want to play."

  Ah, fuck-a-duck. I struggled to remain passive in his hold. No damn way was I going to fight the most powerful vampire in the city. Well, the second most, I still think Michel took the cake on the power front, but Jett right now could give him a run for his money. But try as I did, my Sanguis Vitam just kept climbing. As though it had a will of its own, it swam around our bodies, centring me and bolstering Jett's own formidable Sanguis Vitam. I was panting with the effort to rein it back in. He was panting with the effect it had over him.

  "This is stupid," I managed to croak, then quickly licked my lips. He didn't release my throat, just started stroking my neck with his thumb on the side, increasing his own Sanguis Vitam further and staring at my now moistened lips.

  "Fight me," he commanded in a soft voice.

  "No," I whispered back. "I'm not suicidal."

  He stared at me for a moment and then smiled. I had absolutely no chance of picking up an emotional scent right now, all I could go on was his face. He looked amused, turned-on and contemplative. I knew if I could scent what he was truly feeling it would have told me more,
but I couldn't. My heart was in my throat, my stomach was clenched tight in fear and my body was soaked in sweat. In other words, I was crapping myself about now and could not think of a thing to do to get me out of this mess.

  Jett scared the fuck out of me, but I had never seen this side of him before. He could play the dominant, aggressive Master of the City well. But this here, this was more than keeping the plebs in line. This was sadistic or perverted. I couldn't tell which. But it frightened me and strangely, excited me in equal measure.

  Or at least it did my Dark Shadow.

  "You know," he said conversationally, hand still clasping my throat, thumb still brushing my neck, "I don't think I have been this provoked in many years."

  "You must be starved for entertainment," I said, realising that despite his firm grip on my throat, I could still swallow, still talk. He wasn't crushing me just yet. Maybe playing with me, like a cat would a mouse. Or a bigger cat would a kitten.

  He smiled. It was stunning. "You do entertain, kitten." Then he abruptly released his hold on my throat, his now familiar Sanguis Vitam washing out around me and removing all shadow of pain. Huh, he had healing abilities. I didn't know that.

  I clenched my hands into fists at my sides, determined not to reach for my neck in a reflexive movement.

  "Take a seat, Georgia, we'll share." When he saw the look of scepticism on my face, he added in a low voice, "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours." A definite twinkle lighting his eyes.

  I walked stiffly back to the chair in front of his desk and sat down. I expected him to return to his side of the desk, but he came and leant his butt back against it, legs crossed at his ankles, arms crossed over his chest as he gazed down at me. The twinkle was gone from his eyes.