Mixed Blessing (Mixed Blessing Mystery, Book 1)

by Nicola Claire

  He opened his mouth to say something at the exact moment there was a knock on the door. The take-out. I forced my fangs to stay hidden, the interruption had caused them to throb in my gums. I started to head in the direction of the door to answer it, but Mark stood abruptly and held up his hand for me to remain where I was.

  I cocked my head at him, raising an eyebrow. "It's your food," I said in way of explanation.

  "I know, I can smell it," he answered, surprising me again at how good his sense of smell was for a Norm. "But I'm going to leave." My stomach sank, my heart beat a useless thudda-thud-thud rhythm. "I need to think about all of this, Gigi. I'll be in touch."

  He turned on his heel and opened the door, grimaced at the delivery man and then pushed past him without a word. The delivery guy looked at me and held up the bag of Indian food I had ordered for Mark. I stared back blankly.

  Then took the steps necessary to come face to face, allowing my glaze to capture him.

  "You've made a mistake, wrong address."

  He nodded dumbly and strode away. There was no way I wanted food in my apartment with no one to eat it. Plus, it would just remind me of how many rules I had broken and how Mark had simply walked out.

  I lifted my head to turn back to the flat and met the watchful gaze of Mark at the edge of the top of the stairs. He held my eyes with his impassive ones for several seconds, letting me know he'd seen the glaze and command, then turned without a word and walked down the stairs.

  The uncomfortable smell of decaying leaves and grass hung in the air after he had long gone.

  His disappointment.

  Chapter 18

  Fear

  With a heavy heart I made myself close the door to my haven, locking it soundly. As though that would keep out the emotions I was feeling as well as unwanted guests. I stood numbly in the centre of my lounge and tried to compartmentalise my feelings. I had taken an enormous risk by confiding in Mark. I had broken Nosferatu rules, Jett's rules, not to mention some of my own rules. Two in fact.

  Trust no one.

  Keep to myself.

  What was happening to me, that I was opening up to people when I had promised I never would again? This was so wrong and I couldn't explain why I had done it. The only thing I kept coming back to was these murders. If Stu hadn't have been accused and arrested for Alison Danvers' murder, I wouldn't be where I was now. Exposed. Naked. About to be fed to the wolves.

  If Jett found out I would be in so much trouble, maybe even the kind of trouble that would lead him to announce what I am on the Iunctio's network. I had told myself that if I wanted to survive this new Dark night time world I now traversed, I'd have to rely on no one but myself. Yet here I was confiding in Jett and Aliath, and now Mark.

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  Anger replaced the bewilderment and fear of before. Anger was good. I grabbed it and pulled it around me, let it fuel the flame inside. The night was still young, only just shy of midnight, there was still much I could accomplish and the sooner this case was solved, the sooner I could hide again. I toyed with the idea of just curling up on the couch and pretending none of tonight ever happened, but I needed to find answers.

  I wanted to visit Stu, but going anywhere near the police station when I'd just had Mark turn his back on me and my secrets left me feeling ill. Still, it was something I desperately needed to do, so I did send a text to Kara asking if she could arrange this somehow through Stu's lawyer.

  Finding out what involvement Jett had in all of this was also near the top of my list of things to do, but confronting him on it was somewhere near the bottom along with getting my head chopped off and admitting my feelings for Samson. So, the next best thing was to go through the video footage of the security cameras at Alison's apartment complex. Not exactly exciting stuff, but it would keep me off the streets and maybe - just maybe - I could find something that would make sense.

  Two futile hours into scrolling through shot after shot of well dressed inhabitants of the building Alison lived in, coming and going throughout the complex, my cellphone rang, breaking the monotony but not offering a better alternative to the skim-watching I was undertaking. The caller ID said, Jett. I stared at the screen for a long moment, contemplating the wisdom of answering his call. It took me so long to decide whether ignoring him was a good idea or not, the call went to voice-mail.

  Relief mixed with a small smattering of guilt flashed through me to be replaced with apprehension when the phone immediately rang again. And again the caller ID identified Jett as the caller. I bit my bottom lip and stood up from my dining table abruptly, taking a few steps back away from the cellphone, which continued to blithely ring, taunting me with its shrill tone. By the time I made it to the far wall, my back against my front door, the phone went dead.

  I let a small breath out. This was ridiculous, I would have to face him eventually, he'd want to know what I had found out, and doing it over the phone was far preferable to a face to face confrontation. I waited silently for the phone to ring again, Jett was not the sort of man to take no for an answer. Nothing happened for several minutes. Neither the phone nor I made a sound. Then without warning the phone trilled again. I jumped, having thought he might just have given up, and then yelped as there was a loud knock on my apartment door, right at my back. Spinning around and crouching down in a split second, a hiss escaped my lips before I could stop it. Fangs out and eyes glowing red.

  Don't frighten a skittish vampire.

  "I know you're in there, Georgia," came Jett's far too reasonable voice from the other side of the door. "Not only can I hear your cellphone ringing, but your heartbeat is loud and your response to my arrival most impressive." A pause, then, "Open the damn door."

  I growled low in my throat at his off-the-cuff demand. Screw him, he could break the damn door down before I opened it for him.

  There was a loud crack, the splintering of wood around the edges of my door and then the unmistakable crunch of hinges behind torn from their positions as the door was lifted forcefully from its locked spot and Jett calmly walked in. He turned and replaced the door where he had removed it, making it appear intact, despite the shavings of wood littering the floor at his feet. He turned slowly and took in my position on the ground, still crouched, still fanged, still growling.

  He smiled, an amused twist of his lips. I couldn't smell a damn thing, but I knew a sticky toffee look when I saw one.

  Neither of us spoke for a moment, Jett just letting his gaze wash over me and then the apartment, taking in my haven with curious eyes. How dare he enter my home and look so damn smug about it.

  "You could have used Sanguis Vitam to release the lock," I said through gritted teeth, standing from my crouch and forcing myself to look relaxed. It was an act and I was sure he knew it.

  "And miss out on your delightful reaction?" He shook his head and wandered further into the room.

  His gaze took in everything, from my choice of artwork, to my laptop and the frozen frame of video footage I had been assessing, to my furniture, my kitchen and then God help me, he even walked into my bedroom and took in the décor there as well.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at his back. He turned toward me with a low growl.

  "You've had a visitor. The cop." I raised an eyebrow at him. Wasn't he the one who insisted I get closer to the good detective to find out what I could about the case? "In your bedroom," he added as though that explained his caveman-like response.

  "He used the bathroom," I replied with a shrug. The bathroom was through my bedroom, if Mark had used the toilet he'd have had to cross that space. Jett's eyes flashed a little azure in amongst darker blue and he inhaled softly, his gaze trailing over my robe and then slowly back up to my face.

  "You take your instructions to heart," he said in a low, deadly voice, laced with criticism. "I did not know you were so dedicated to the task."

  How dare he! I flashed fang at him, before I realised how bad an idea it was
to allow myself to be baited by the Master of the City. He was on me in a second, barely enough time to catch my breath. His hand wrapped around my throat, but far from being painful, it felt intimate. His thumb absently caressing my neck as his nose nestled into my hair.

  "He is on your skin, he is all over you. Was it worth selling your body? Did you get the information you sought?"

  I let a little air out unnecessarily at his harsh words and fought with my dignity not to reply. My Dark Shadow had awoken the moment Jett walked in the room, her presence in my mind a constant torment. She wanted me to bait him back, to challenge him, to force him to react. The part of me that still clung to my human side knew how dangerous that would be. A battle of wills inside began, my body giving away what my mind so frantically fought not to show. I leaned in closer to Jett's chest, his arm automatically bending to allow the intimate action. A smile coasting over his fierce features. A smug smile. I growled.

  "Kitten," he said on a purr, "did you want to play?"

  Yes, the Dark Shadow purred back. "No," I croaked aloud. He just smiled knowingly.

  "Tell me," he whispered, his hot breath washing over my lips. "What did the policeman say?"

  I held his gaze, determined not to show fear. Fear that he'd find out how much Mark now knew. And I realised, absently, that it wasn't for my own safety alone. If Jett knew Mark was aware of what I am - what lived alongside the humans - he would be in danger. I wouldn't put it past Jett to kill Mark simply to contain the leak. And even though I knew he'd follow up that murder with my own, it was my fear for Mark that made me strong in the face of Jett's inquisition. I would not let this vampire harm my friend.

  "He is resistant to my glaze or Sanguis Vitam." Jett's eyes widened slightly. I ignored his response. "He hasn't divulged anything other than an insinuation he is unsure of Stu's guilt." I added that last bit of information simply to get Jett to back off. I hoped he'd see that admission as evidence of me doing my job.

  He studied me for a moment, then cocked his head to the side. "We knew he wouldn't respond to your glaze, he doesn't mine." Well, Mark had responded, but not the way Jett inferred. He withdrew his hand from my throat finally and took a step away. I had a feeling he was going for casual, so willed my own reaction to chill as I tried to determine his emotional scent.

  "What made you think using your Sanguis Vitam would work?" he asked, flicking his eyes up to mine and watching intently. Just what was he looking for.

  "It was worth a crack, he wasn't giving me anything, so I tried to influence him with my power."

  "Has that worked for you before?" he said, turning and taking a seat uninvited in one of my armchairs, his eyes flicking back up to mine to catch my reaction.

  I hesitated, there was more to this question than met the eye. "Sometimes," I hedged, unsure what the correct answer here would be.

  "I see," he said and indicated I should take a seat on the couch. My couch. I huffed, but did as he directed, watching his lips twitch again at the edges.

  "Show me," he instructed. I frowned.

  "What do you mean?"

  He waved his hand toward me. "Use your Sanguis Vitam to influence me." Then when he saw my continued frown, "It's not a request. I am asking as your Master of the City, I would like to know how best to use this talent."

  I was momentarily stunned at his open admission of his intentions: to use me. But his choice of words made my Dark Shadow growl in warning. Talent. We only called those skills unique to each vampire a talent. Like my Shadow Walking and empathic scenting. I had assumed using Sanguis Vitam to influence was a master vampire's ability. Any master vampire could achieve it. I suddenly felt very scared.

  "I'm not sure it would work on you," I said, stalling for time. Could I fake this?

  "Like I said, show me." His eyes bore into mine. "Or do I need to command you?" As Master of the City he could command, but it wasn't exactly like a master vampire's command to one of their line. It was compelling, but not impossible to resist. It just depended on the vampire. I was sure I could defend myself, I had seen Samson defend himself against one of Jett's commands. There was more to Samson than most vampires knew. I think Jett had never underestimated him again since that time.

  I swallowed and allowed some of my Sanguis Vitam out and then half-heartedly shoved a mental command at him. He growled in response, clearly aware I was not committing myself to the task.

  "Must I resort to threats, Georgia?"

  I held his gaze, but didn't reply. He lazily reached into his suit jacket pocket and withdrew a cellphone, then pressed a number on the display. Someone answered the other end of the line and Jett lifted the phone to his ear, his eyes holding mine, azure blazing in their depths now.

  "Are you outside her house?" he said to the other person on the phone, I heard the vampire's response, confirming the address he was at. Kara's address in Ponsonby. I didn't try to hide my growl at that. "Good," Jett said casually. "Standby for my instructions." The vampire grunted in reply. I held my breath. Maybe Kara wasn't home. Jett smiled. "What's the girl doing now?" he asked the other vampire. I heard him relay Kara's current whereabouts and the fact she was watching T.V. in nothing but her PJ's and woolly socks.

  I sprang to my feet and slammed Jett with my Sanguis Vitam, the command to pull the vampire away from Kara's house the first thought that entered my mind.

  Jett's eyes widened, then a very slow smile spread across his lips.

  "You can leave the house now, Raymond," he said quietly and disconnected the call.

  I was unsure if my Sanguis Vitam laced command was what made him do it, but I was sure he wouldn't let me know either way.

  "Sit down," he instructed, returning the phone to his jacket pocket.

  I sunk to my seat, my breathing rapid, my Dark Shadow ready to do battle, but my desire to tango with this particular vampire all but gone.

  "An interesting talent, Georgia. But I am thinking you were not aware how special it is." Understatement. I was sure I was not the only one able to do this, but clearly it was still considered relatively rare. I closed my eyes in a slow blink. Another talent he was aware of. Another nail in my coffin.

  What was he going to do with this knowledge?

  "What now?" he said, as though reading my thoughts. "You're are an interesting creature. Fascinating in fact." I knew then that appearing fascinating to someone like Jett was an altogether very bad thing. He looked at me as though he wanted to own me. Completely. But not in a desirable way. No, Jett wanted to pin me to his wall, display me like some prized possession. Show me off and use me at his whim.

  I shuddered involuntarily at the thought and struggled to not show the fear I felt on my face. If I had been scared of Jett's as yet undetermined involvement in the Alison Danvers murder case, I was now doubly scared of his interest in me. I wanted desperately for him to leave, to escape his inscrutable assessment of me. His azure washed eyes taking every inch of me in, as though he was seeing right through to my soul. How much did he already know about me?

  Too much.

  "So," he said conversationally, "what else have you found out?" We were back to the murder case. To the investigation he had instructed me to carry out. I mentally shook myself, attempting to brush all my multitude of concerns aside and concentrate on getting Stu released. For now, I couldn't turn my back on that, but the moment this case was solved, I was leaving. Getting as far away from here as I could.

  Lucinda had mentioned South America as being a good place to hide. The Iunctio didn't have a hold there and any vampire wishing to hide found somewhere in South America that fitted the bill. I was now a vampire who wished to hide. A not very comfortable thought.

  What had my life become?

  I returned my attention to Jett's question. "Three more murders. Cause of deaths all the same as Alison's. Slit throats, exsanguination at the scene. No obvious evidence of a vampire bite, but the wound to the neck could have hidden it."

  "Bodies not drained dry though,"
Jett interjected. He'd sat forward on his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. He was all business now.

  "No, not very vamp-like, but then if they were trying to throw us off..." I let the sentence hang there. He nodded and then indicated for me to go on. I cleared my throat and sorted through what I already knew. "Same murderer's scent at the scene, no new emotional ones to add anything to what we already know. The victims felt fear and alarm, the killer anger and amusement."

  "He's playing with them," Jett offered and I had a sudden thought that no, the killer wasn't playing with the murder victims, he was playing with me. The amusement I had felt at each scene I had just assumed was for the act he carried out, towards the victim. But in light of what I had uncovered this evening - the message the murderer had left for me - I was now sure his amusement was all for the game he played to hunt me. I didn't tell Jett this.

  Instead I went back over the frequency of deaths, the escalation tonight to two. And then I ran through the connection to Vive La Vodka and watched Jett closely for a reaction. I'd made sure my scenting abilities were back on track before I divulged that little piece of news. Jett's involvement centred around that new SubZero Vodka Mixer, I was sure. When I mentioned the connection I had found, I took a deep breath in through my nose. I'd tried to hide it, to cover the inhalation with another clearing of my throat, but it was poorly done.

  Jett's eyebrows shot up and his gaze held mine, then he sat back in his chair and crossed his legs, ankle resting on knee, hand resting on his crossed shin. He looked relaxed and curious in equal measures.

  "What did you scent?" There was more there in the question. He wasn't just asking what I scented, but the tone implied why did I bother to scent him at all.

  I swallowed uncomfortably having been caught out in the act, but knowing I couldn't explain it away or distract him, I decided to go for honesty. I mean really, he already knew what emotions he'd felt when I mentioned the vodka mix drink. I sifted through the catalogued scents; a smooth and dry Merlot, laced with a floral bouquet, followed by soggy wet wool which quickly was replaced by stringent ammonia and then lastly a hint of uncomfortable mouldy cheese. It never did fail to surprise me how distinct each emotional scent was. There was no way to hide it from me, when I was able to scent. Of course, had Jett known I lost the ability when placed under straining emotional circumstances myself, he would no doubt use that against me. For now though, I held the upper hand.