Blood Sense (Blood Destiny #3)

by Connie Suttle

  Wlodek cursed again. "Did you tell her it is customary?"

  "It didn't make any difference, but yes. And when she asked how many females had been beaten, I told her the truth."

  "She isn't stupid."

  "No. She is not. I realize that most of the others might have a pretty face and little else, Wlodek, but Lissa is different."

  "I know that as well as you." Wlodek hung up.

  * * *

  "Come on, I like this one." Greg pointed to a human hair wig displayed on my laptop. He'd informed me that I couldn't go around bald all the time or wearing my hats because it was spring and summer would be coming soon.

  "I like this one." Franklin pointed to a different wig with shorter hair. I had no idea human hair wigs could be so expensive. I was used to walking past a window in the mall with all the synthetic wigs on display, many of which sold for less than a hundred dollars, U.S.

  "What about this one?" I tapped the screen, indicating a third option. "And it won't be embarrassing or anything if it falls off."

  "Haven't you heard of tape and wig caps?" Greg asked, as if I should have known about that already.

  "Fine," I said.

  "I think you should buy all three," Franklin said, waving Merrill's credit card. "You'll have three styles to choose from, the lengths might be fun to play with and you can change your look. This is close to your natural color," he pointed to one of the shades offered. How many women can say they got wig help from experts? If I took all three, the total came to more than seven thousand dollars.

  Greg didn't wait for me to back out or change my mind—he placed all three wigs in my online shopping cart, Franklin provided credit card information and they asked for next day delivery. Holy cow.

  I didn't have any lessons with Merrill later so I went to pack my bag; the Vampire King said I was to spend the night and the following day. My toiletries were the only thing I left out. Greg and Franklin had picked up eyeliner and an eyebrow pencil for me on one of their shopping trips. No, I don't like drawing on eyebrows. At least there were the tiniest beginnings of hair in all the right places now. If I ran my hands over my head, I could feel the stubble. My poor eyelashes, though—I could see the barest hint peeking out and the same went for the eyebrows.

  Merrill drove me to Wlodek's manor the following evening. I wore a hat and had another packed in my smallest bag. I'd decided not to dress up all that much. Right then, I didn't really feel like dressing up for anybody. I hadn't heard from Gavin either. Maybe he was waiting to hear from me. After I'd learned from Merrill that he and Gavin agreed to my beating, well, he could keep on waiting.

  Rolfe answered the door before we arrived. I'm sure he heard the car drive up with his vampire hearing. Charles was standing expectantly behind Rolfe, waiting to take us up to Wlodek's study. We walked up two flights of stairs to Wlodek's private office and I found the two misters inside, waiting for me.

  I didn't greet Wlodek, nod politely, or do that little bow. He'd lost my respect. I know—it's such a precious commodity and all that. It was all I had left—they'd stripped just about everything else away from me. Merrill said a few words to Wlodek instead and left after telling us he'd be back to pick me up the following evening. There was probably a lecture coming when he did.

  Henri was the mister I'd seen in New Mexico. At least I had a name to put with his face and scent, now. He'd been inside the meeting cave the night I was beaten, too. That wasn't humiliating. His brother, Gervais, looked quite a bit like him. I knew Henri was the older of the two but not by much. Wlodek didn't look pleased when he introduced them to me and Charles took us to an empty bedroom afterward so we could work. The brothers both had black hair and deep brown eyes. They were also older than Charles—as vampires anyway. Not even close to Gavin, though.

  "I watched you change so swiftly," Henri said, once Charles left us alone. He and Gervais did their best not to stare at my hairless state. I figured Wlodek had brought them up to speed on that.

  "My timing has improved every time I change," I said, ignoring their curious glances. "I can mist immediately, now." It had become instantaneous; I'd proved that to Merrill two nights before.

  "We wish to improve our time," Henri said bluntly. He and Gervais wore such hopeful expressions.

  "Honey, I'm not sure how to go about that," I said. "But let's try something, first. Don't worry, when I touch you while I'm mist, you'll go to mist, too. You'll turn back as soon as I let you go."

  Henri was looking very interested now. "I wish to do this first," he said. I nodded at him and turned to mist. Gervais sighed in jealous pleasure. Going to Henri, I touched him and he immediately became mist. It's strange; while I'm mist and turn someone or something else, they look like a part of my mist. I can see, hear and smell, still, but as tiny droplets or whatever, I don't see myself. I let Henri go after a bit and he rematerialized. He did a little exclaiming in French and it sounded like excited words and not profanity. I turned back.

  "Your turn now," I nodded at him, so he set about turning to mist and Gervais timed it. He was invisible when he turned and Gervais was nearly jumping up and down; Henri had cut an entire minute off his time. As soon as Henri became solid again, Gervais wanted to go. We did. It was the same as before. Once we were both back to corporeality, he tried turning again. He cut more than a minute off his time. Henri turned again and he was even faster, this time—three minutes instead of the five that it normally took. Just as an experiment, I turned while Henri was still mist and received a small shock—while I was mist, I could see his mist particles. They were a pale green in color but I could see them. I did the same when Gervais turned next and his misty droplets were nearly the same color.

  "So," I said after coming back to myself, "can you see each other if you're both mist at the same time?"

  "No. We are invisible to each other. Why do you ask?" Gervais wanted to know. I lied. "I just thought since you're brothers, and all," I said, shrugging a little.

  "Ah. No. It is unfortunate as it might help at times, since we cannot mindspeak." I nodded in agreement at that and we kept working.

  We worked through the night until we were exhausted, but the brothers couldn't get their misting time below two minutes. They were still so pleased with that they dragged me out of the bedroom, found Charles and insisted we talk to Wlodek.

  "Honored One, we have cut three minutes off our time," Henri was very happy. For a vampire, he seemed downright giddy.

  One of Wlodek's eyebrows rose quite high. "Demonstrate," he commanded, dropping the inevitable gold pen onto the blotter covering his desk and leaning back in his chair. Henri obliged while Gervais timed it. Gervais handed the stopwatch to Wlodek when his brother's turn was complete. Wlodek's eyebrow went up another notch. Gervais turned next, just to prove he could. Wlodek gave me a speculative glance before turning back to the misters. "How did this occur?" he demanded. His question was aimed at the brothers instead of me, which was fine. I really didn't want to talk to Wlodek if I didn't have to.

  "Lissa turned to mist and then turned each of us to mist with her," Henri explained. "We were faster, immediately after. Perhaps we became a part of her for a moment and then came away with a little of her ability."

  "I will have to research this," Wlodek said softly. "Charles, bring those records," Wlodek nodded to Charles, who scurried away. "It is nearly dawn and I realize this has exhausted all of you, changing so much. Go have blood and then retire. We will not wake you tomorrow evening; we will wait until you rise in your own time." Wlodek gave us a brief nod, didn't meet my eyes and we all trooped out of his office.

  "Merci, ma petite puce," Henri said as I made my way to the kitchen downstairs to find the fridge. Apparently, the brothers had their own blood supply upstairs with them. I didn't understand what Henri said but I could ask Franklin or Greg. They both spoke French.

  Rolfe came into the kitchen while I was drinking. "Little Queen," he nodded at me while pulling out a bag of blood for himself.
I think those were the first words he'd ever spoken to me.

  "No. They say not," I said.

  "Mmmph," he growled and walked out, drinking. That expression held contempt. Not for me—for them.

  After placing my half-pint back in the fridge, I went upstairs and pulled the book I'd brought from my bag. I unpacked a few things, too—things I'd need for my bath the following evening. I was still reading when I dropped over in bed as dawn came.

  * * *

  Wlodek murmured in Greek as he removed the book from Lissa's hands and set it on the bedside table, then lifted the covers and slid her underneath. His fingers brushed her face carefully before he left to go to his own bed.

  Chapter 3

  Merrill was sitting on the side of my bed when I woke. I blinked at him, worried that I'd slept much too long. "Here she is," he said and handed a unit of blood to me.

  The blood was cold as usual and I noticed that Charles was standing right at Merrill's shoulder, his hazel eyes twinkling and a hopeful expression on his face. "Hello, Charles," I grumped while I tore the top off the bag to drink. You'd think the sun had risen for the first time in a month the way Charles smiled at my less than receptive greeting.

  "Lissa, there is a justified execution the Honored One wishes you to cover up, but we must go soon. You may bathe when you return," Merrill said, his manner a bit cool, although his face was in its usual expressionless mask. He was upset that I hadn't say hello to him as well. And the cover-up Merrill mentioned was part of an earlier lesson—to make any justified deaths appear to be accidents. Lovely.

  Sliding off the bed while I drank my meal, I went in search of the clothes I'd laid out the night before. Charles politely took my leftover blood while I went into the bathroom to get dressed and brush my teeth. I had no desire to venture out and about with bloodstains between my bicuspids. Five minutes later, I was ready to go—shoes tied and everything. Wouldn't do to keep the vampires waiting. What shocked me when we walked out of Wlodek's manor, however, was the helicopter sitting on the lawn. Wlodek and Radomir were already inside it, waiting for us.

  Merrill sat up front, giving me yet another surprise. I learned that he could also fly, and not just in the vampiric sense. The pilot asked if he wanted to take the controls. Merrill waved him off but put a headset on anyway while I was stuck in the back, wedged between Radomir and Wlodek. Radomir buckled me in, Rolfe shut the door and off we flew. They didn't tell me where we were going and I didn't ask. The trip took forty minutes and Radomir's face revealed nothing to me as we landed. I knew better than to offer Wlodek a questioning look.

  "We cannot muddy the scene, Lissa, so you must either turn to mist or allow me to carry you," Merrill instructed. We'd set down half a mile from our intended location, in a quiet field filled with dry, dead grass. It was early March and green tipped shoots might make their presence known soon; a scented layer of expectancy lay about the land. At the moment, however, everything remained still and silently dormant. The imprints of the helicopter's landing skids might be a giveaway, too, if we'd landed closer. Grumbling to myself because I didn't know where we were going and would be following blind, I allowed Merrill to carry me. After pulling me up, he lifted a short distance off the ground and traveled swiftly, the tall dead grasses we rushed over whispering beneath us as we passed. Wlodek came along, flying right at Merrill's shoulder. Radomir stayed behind with the pilot, ready to come swiftly if assistance was required.

  The house was old. If I were guessing, I would have said between one and two hundred years—the thick, heavy stone portion, anyway. A frame addition on the back looked much newer. The boards on the addition were painted a sunny yellow on the outside, a harsh contrast to the smell of death inside. Merrill settled me in the kitchen after elbowing his way through the open back door. Was I allowed to ask questions? Probably not. I was there to make things look like an accident. Walking carefully through the spacious, modern kitchen, we found the woman's body in a wide doorway leading into the older portion of the home. There were no visible wounds on her body and her head was still connected. Had I still been human, bile might have risen. I got the idea she'd been asphyxiated, which meant she died after minutes of terror. That in itself angered me—her death had not been swift or merciful. A pile of ash covered a rug nearby. Was this one of the killings Merrill had discussed during my last lesson? Had the vampire refused to give up his human companion? Fuck. The house certainly held the woman's as well as the vampire's scents. It also held Sebastian's; he'd performed the assassination. Another sniff brought an additional scent to me. Something fairly new. Oh, dear God.

  "What happened to the baby?" I demanded, whirling around to stare at Merrill.

  "There was no baby, Lissa, now do your job." Merrill's dispassionate expression gave way to a frown.

  "Yes, there was," I insisted. Merrill reached out to grab my arm but I misted away from him, flying through the house while he shouted after me. I'll give Sebastian props for cleaning everything pretty damn good; he'd taken everything out of the house that was baby related except for one small thing—I misted beneath the bed in the mother's bedroom and found a dropped pacifier that had rolled underneath. The mother hadn't noticed or tried to retrieve it. It was chance. Providence. A miracle, perhaps. I grabbed up the small item and went back to Merrill and Wlodek, both standing in the kitchen waiting. Both angry. That didn't come close to what I felt.

  "See?" I waved the pacifier under Merrill's nose, suppressed fury in my voice. "Where did that fucker take the baby? What did he do with it?"

  "Lissa, that is not why we're here," Wlodek had gone completely stone-faced.

  "No. It isn't, is it?" I hauled a kitchen towel off the cabinet and wrapped my hand in it, grabbed the kettle off the stove and dropped it in the sink. Then, my hand still wrapped in the towel, I turned on a stove burner and dropped the towel near the flame. It caught in seconds and bits of burning cloth dripped onto the floor. Eventually the kitchen caught fire, Merrill grabbed me and we flew out of the house swiftly, with Wlodek close behind. We waited nearby until the entire house was engulfed in flames. Was I furious? Yes. It was a cold fury I felt that night. I knew the child was dead. I'd smelled its death, along with that of its mother. Sebastian had killed a baby. The vampire's lover had been pregnant and given birth. No, the vampire hadn't been the father. Not only was that impossible, the baby didn't have the vampire scent about it. It was human, just as the mother was. Had they decided to have a child between them, by available means? Was that part of their crime?

  The helicopter returned us to Wlodek's manor, the only sound that of the chopper flying us through a misty night. None of us spoke. Where were their lofty laws now? Were babies considered collateral damage if they happened to be in the way? I gathered my things, threw them into my bag and marched angrily out of the house. If it weren't Wlodek's home, I imagine I'd be cursing. Merrill wisely didn't attempt to speak to me on the drive home. The roof of his manor was the first place I went and I stayed there until nearly dawn.

  * * *

  "Charles," Wlodek said quietly after Merrill had taken Lissa away. "Find Sebastian. I wish to speak with him."

  "Of course, Honored One," Charles replied, pulling out his cell.

  * * *

  Sebastian ignored the vibrating of his mobile phone. He was busy digging a hole far from the child's home. Lifting the bag that held tiny remains, he tossed it in first, heaving other items in after. He'd drained the baby before removing all evidence of it inside the home. Clothes, shoes, toiletries, everything that Sebastian could find went into the hole. A crib had been the only furniture involved, so it had been reduced to splinters in his hands, making it easier to carry. Sebastian was careful not to leave evidence behind that might reveal his indiscretion.

  A large boulder over the covered hole was the final touch and Sebastian shook crumbs of earth from his claws before retracting them. Pulling the phone into his hand, he checked the message. Wlodek's number was displayed. Day was com
ing and Sebastian had to find cover. The Head of the Council could wait.

  * * *

  "Your package came," Franklin tapped a large box sitting on the kitchen island when I walked downstairs the following evening. He and Greg were preparing an evening meal. I was still depressed over the previous night's revelations, so I moved listlessly toward the box, slit it open with a slightly extended claw and peered inside. My wigs had come. Holding back a sigh, I pulled them from the box and checked them over.

  "I found something to put them on," Greg grinned, hauling out three wig heads. Well, he and Franklin didn't need my depression. I made an effort to be more cheerful.

  "Those wig heads resemble me greatly," I said, patting my hairless head. There was a bit more stubble, I suppose. My eyelashes and eyebrows were also making progress. Perhaps in three months I'd have something to be proud of, but there wasn't much there now. The wigs went on the heads first and I played a little with the hair.

  "Here," Greg said, lifting one of the wigs off. He nodded for me to sit down and proceeded to place the wig on my head. "That looks good," he said. Franklin turned from his cooking to take a peek.

  "It does," he agreed and went back to what he was stirring. The wig felt like a tight hat to me. Greg found a mirror and held it up so I could examine my new look. Turning this way and that, I arranged the hair a bit. It was a little coarser than my own but I couldn't complain; the color was good and it looked natural.

  "I'm ready for my close-up," I quoted, fluffing wig hair. Greg hugged me.

  We spent the evening, Franklin, Greg and I, shopping on the internet for clothes. Somehow, Frank knew I was upset—Merrill must have told him something. He and Greg were attempting to chase away my depression by teasing me and spending money. Greg had bought jeans and tops for me in London earlier as a late Christmas present, all in size four. Since I'd lost something after my bout with the sun, they fit. Franklin also ventured to tell me I was five feet tall instead of five-one, as I was before. They weren't kidding, I guess, about sunbathing making me smaller. Therefore, now that we had a proper size, we went looking for all sorts of clothing. We guessed at bra sizes; what I had still worked if I fastened them in the last hooks.