The Bloodline Series Box Set

by Gabriella Messina

  Sam glanced at Lenny, who was unusually quiet as he leaned, arms crossed, against the closed door. He raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. Sam looked at Vincent, but he had his eyes fixed on the floor in front of him, his cigarette-holding hand close to his lips.

  Sam turned back to Ben. “How many were there?”

  “Well, there were... two. It all happened so fast, I didn’t know whether to call Animal Control or John Landis.” He gestured to Vincent: “Then the Jedi Master here shows up, out of nowhere, kicks some lycanthrope ass, then drags me down here.”

  Vincent looked up at that. “I thought he would be safer here with us than he would be on his own.”

  Sam nodded. “Good thinking. Are those two dead?”

  “No.”

  “Shit.” Sam quickly clapped her hand over her mouth, then quickly made the Sign of the Cross on herself. Her gaze returned to Vincent just in time to see him blow out a puff of cigarette smoke. “What are you doing? You can’t smoke in here! This is a church!”

  Vincent sighed, tossed the cigarette to the ground and stepped it out. He could see the smug expression on Ben’s face out of the corner of his eye. Wanker...

  “You’re the man in black.”

  Vincent turned to the source of the voice. Lenny, still leaning against the door, his arms still crossed protectively across his chest, was staring at him, eyes narrowed, forehead creased into a subtle frown.

  “I am a man in black.” Vincent took a step forward, his hand outstretched. “Vincent Kremer.”

  Lenny hesitated, the intensity of his glare seeming to increase. He left his position leaning against the door and crossed to stand in front of Vincent. Suddenly, Lenny reached out, took Vincent’s hand and shook it firmly. “Detective Leonidas Jackson.”

  “Leonidas? That’s a lot of name to live up to.”

  Lenny ended the handshake as he replied tautly: “It’s a lot of name.” He quickly looked to Sam, gesturing towards Vincent as he said, “Is this who you need to see?”

  “Kinda. Um, you guys wait here. We’ll just be a minute.” Sam pulled at Vincent’s coat sleeve and the two walked farther into the church.

  “What’s up?” Vincent slid into one of the pews nearby and placed his folded hands on the seat in front of him. He turned to Sam, waiting expectantly, trying to forget the little surge of adrenaline he’d felt when she pulled his coat sleeve. He watched Sam as she paced a few steps in either direction, then stopped, rubbed her head and reached into her pocket. She pulled out a small cough-syrup-like bottle, uncapped it and took a small sip. She relaxed visibly after doing so and her movements slowed to normal.

  Vincent’s eyes narrowed, and he gestured to the bottle. “You have a cold or something?”

  “No.” Sam held the bottle up between them. “This? This is ‘headache medicine.’ At least, that’s what my grandmother always called it when she sent me to the bathroom to get it for Ivan. I thought he had migraines. Little did I know.”

  Vincent leaned forward quickly, grabbing Sam’s wrist and pulling her close, her face only a couple of inches from his. He looked into her eyes intently as he asked, “What’s in it? Do you know?”

  Sam jerked her arm free but did not move away. “Belladonna. And aconite.”

  “How much have you taken?”

  “Enough. And I will keep taking ‘enough’ until another solution is found, okay?” She backed away a few steps. “I nearly wolfed out in the bathroom half-an-hour ago. Lenny was a couple of rooms away. This shit stopped it, so don’t you dare lecture me, Vincent.”

  Vincent nodded slowly. “Fair enough. Just be careful.” He sat back in the pew, resting his left ankle on his right knee, his arms stretched out along the back of the pew. “So, what is it you want to do?”

  “I want to talk to Hudson.”

  Vincent looked down at the floor, his hair shadowing his face and concealing his expression as he spoke: “You want to go into the lion’s den? I mean, you do realize Hudson is one of them, right?”

  Sam frowned. “He’s a werewolf? I didn’t notice that he smelled like a werewolf.”

  Vincent’s head snapped up at that, his expression an odd blend of surprise and irritation with a cherry of jealousy on top. “His smell? When were you smelling him? Why?”

  “He helped me get Ivan out of there, saved his life, I’m sure. He offered any help I needed, told me to call if I needed anything, to come directly to him if there was an emergency. I think this qualifies as an emergency.”

  Vincent relaxed a little at that – only a little. “You think maybe he was trying to gain your confidence?”

  “Yeah, well, it takes a bit more than a kind word and a nice body to gain my confidence, thank you very much.” Sam slid into the pew beside him. “Vincent, I need answers, lots of them, not just about the condition but about what’s going on, what they’re planning... I think Hudson can give them to me.” Sam hesitated for a moment, then placed her hand gently on his arm. “I need you to back me up on this. I need you, Vincent.”

  Vincent glanced at her hand, then raised his eyes to meet hers. This wasn’t about helping her out in this one instance. No, this was about taking the cross for the long game. Taking the cross for her. That little voice inside him was screaming, “Danger! Danger!” Vincent let his eyes move over Sam’s face: her porcelain skin; full, soft lips; then returned to her eyes, those big blue eyes framed by perfect thick dark brows. Mo Anam Cara... He felt his stomach knot up as the words passed through his mind... He hadn’t thought of them for a long time... Not since the last time he heard them on the lips of his mother before... Vincent closed his eyes briefly, banishing everything from his brain... And then he had his answer.

  “You’ve got me,” Vincent said earnestly.

  Sam’s face lit up, her smile broad and relieved. Geez, I thought he was never going to answer me. She took her hand off his arm, slowly, almost reluctantly. “Good. Thank you.”

  Sam glanced around the church nervously, looked toward the front door where Lenny and Ben were. The lion’s den... “How much of that quicksilver ammo do you have left?”

  Vincent grinned. “More than enough to go around.” He jerked his head toward the two men in the doorway. “What’s the likelihood that you can get those two to go home?”

  “Slim-to-none, I’m sure. They’ll just have to stay downstairs. They have chairs in the ER.” Sam stood up and moved out of the pew. “There will be a lot of activity, nurses, doctors. Nobody will try anything.”

  Vincent rose and joined her outside the pew. They started walking toward the two men still ensconced on either side of the front door.

  “Besides,” added Sam, “there will be security guards. They’ll be perfectly safe.”

  23

  REY MORALES GLANCED at his watch, then up at the clock on the wall above the nurses’ station. Five o’clock. Almost time to leave this desolation behind for another night and head home to a hot shower, a warm bed and some trashy morning television. He adjusted his ear buds and turned up the volume on his tablet, immersing himself in the cumbia music he was enjoying so much lately. He drummed his fingers on the counter, his head bobbing rhythmically to the beat. Rey knew he should be focusing on the paperwork in front of him and, as the song ended, was preparing to focus when he felt a rush of cold air. Someone was coming into the ER.

  Rey shivered and looked up to see who or what was coming in. It had been a relatively quiet night, but early morning accidents were notorious as nighttime club-goers literally ran into daytime commuters.

  He was relieved to see that the four people entering were at least ambulatory. However, the feeling of relief passed when he recognized the young woman. It was that young cop. The one who had yelled at him. He shivered again, this time with dread. Rey did not enjoy confrontation of any kind, the distraught-friend-or-relative-of-a-patient kind, in particular. He watched her as she stopped in the waiting area and spoke to the three men with her and there was something about her, something
familiar...

  Rey looked at each of the three men in turn. The tall, dark-skinned man, his brow furrowed as he listened to her, clearly not happy with what she was saying. The pale Goth kid, his black hair flopping down over his forehead and nearly covering one eye. The third man... Rey almost gasped out loud. The third one was Gorgeous with a capital “G.” Dark and broody and delicious... Rey swallowed hard, his decidedly gay heart doing a little flip-flop and for a moment, he completely forgot about the comely reason his bed at home was warm and waiting for him.

  “Hi.”

  Rey startled out of his reverie and looked toward the source of the greeting. Sam was right in front of him, with Mister Gorgeous right behind her! Jesus, he must have completely zoned out! Rey tried to recover, feigning relaxation and ease as he replied, “Can I help you?”

  Sam smiled, “Yes, please. We’re looking for Doctor Jack Hudson.”

  Rey hesitated. Weber had told him not to let anyone in to see Hudson tonight. He didn’t know what was going on, or who was involved, or anything really, except he did know that she was really adamant that nobody sees the good doctor tonight. “Um, Doctor Hudson isn’t... Available... Tonight. Perhaps if you tried later in the day?” He studied Sam’s face, hoping she was buying it.

  She wasn’t. “Hmm. Well, Doctor Hudson told me if I had a problem, I needed to see him directly. No one else.” She paused, watching the desk clerk’s face to see if she was getting through. She was. Sam leaned on the counter and motioned for him to lean closer as well. “You see, Rey...” she began, looking down at his name tag, as if to confirm that she had indeed called him by the correct name before continuing, “Rey, we are a part of Doctor Hudson’s top-secret heredity study. We just made an incredible discovery that could completely blow the lid off his work, really cool stuff, and we need to get some tests done ASAP.”

  Rey raised an eyebrow, looking at all four in turn. “His heredity study? All of you?”

  “All of us.” Mister Gorgeous leaned on the counter beside Sam and took off his sunglasses. Any instincts Rey had had to obey Weber and keep the Doc under wraps melted away. He had brown eyes. Soft and warm, with a hint of amber like the roasted chestnuts they sold on the street corner at Christmastime, and a little glint of come-hither mischief that—

  “Is he upstairs?”

  Rey turned to Sam, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. He nodded slowly, “Seventh floor. Near the operating rooms, there’s a satellite lab.” He pointed down the hall toward doors leading into the main hospital building. “Go through those doors, down the hall, first left is the elevator bank.”

  “Thank you, Rey. Thank you very much.”

  “You’re welcome,” Rey started to smile as he looked over... But Mister Gorgeous had already rejoined the other two men. Sam turned and walked away, and as he watched her move away from him, Rey suddenly remembered...

  He had been working that night last month when they brought in the cop who had fallen. Her back was broken, contusions all over her body and she was unconscious. The cops that were milling around the ER all night said she had fallen four stories into a pile of garbage and debris. It was a miracle she hadn’t been impaled by anything, that she was alive at all. He remembered the trauma surgeon coming down to talk to them, telling them she was going to make it, that she would walk again, that she was going to be just fine. And then, Rey remembered something else...

  The trauma surgeon on-call that night was Jack Hudson.

  “OKAY, SO, VINCENT AND I will go and talk to the good doctor upstairs. You two stay down here.” Sam thought the objections would start the minute she said “stay,” but oddly enough there were no outbursts or complaints. Ben nodded quietly, his face somber, his lips pressed tightly together. He turned and walked slowly back toward the ER waiting room.

  “Sam?”

  Oh, wait, here it comes... Sam turned to Lenny, noting his furrowed brow, the clench of his jaw. “What’s up?”

  In response, he jerked his head, an invitation to follow him as he walked a few feet away.

  Vincent looked between the two then cleared his throat. “I’ll be by the lift.” He backed a couple of steps away, then turned and disappeared through the doors leading into the main hospital.

  “Okay, Len, say your piece.”

  Lenny crossed his arms, the furrow deepening if that was anatomically possible. “I don’t like being left down here when I should be backing you up.”

  “I won’t be alone. Vincent—”

  “I don’t trust Vincent. Quite frankly, I’m surprised as hell that you do.”

  Sam was quiet for a long moment before answering. “Ivan did. I never had the chance to ask him why, but he did. That’s good enough for me.” It was her turn to fold her arms across her chest as she leaned against the wall and gave her partner a very direct look. “This isn’t about Vincent, though, is it?” She watched the emotions play across Lenny’s face: anger, frustration, regret, guilt. When Sam spoke, her voice was softer: “Lenny, that was by no stretch of the imagination your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself for that.

  Lenny shook his head as he replied, “No, I should have been there. You are my partner... My friend... Sam, I should have been there, between you and Franco...”

  “And the bridge railing, too? I did not know bilocation was one of your talents.” Sam moved away from the wall, uncrossing her arms and spreading them out as she continued: “Listen, as you can see, I’m fine. Turns out, I’m all-but-invincible and never knew it, so try not to worry, okay?” She clapped Lenny on the shoulder. “I need you sharp, watching my back down here. And looking out for Ben. Okay?”

  Lenny hesitated before he nodded slowly. He patted her hand as he replied, “Okay.”

  Sam patted his hand, then reached out and tapped the electronic door button nearby. The door into the hospital began to slowly open as she walked toward it. She turned around, walking backward toward the doors. “Listen, if anyone tries to bite you, shoot to kill. And Lenny—”

  Lenny waved her away, chuckling, “I know, I know. Beware the moon, stay off the moors, don’t take any wooden nickels, I’ve got it! Go!”

  Sam turned and hurried through the doors, turning left and disappearing out of sight.

  Lenny continued to watch as the doors closed slowly culminating in a resonating clang. He sighed. Now back to the ER waiting room to rejoin Ben... And wait.

  24

  VINCENT PACED THE HALLWAY. Coming here was a mistake, he knew that. He also knew that trying to stop Sam when she had her mind set on coming was folly, but he was not about to let her come here alone, especially to see HIM. Far too dangerous, physically and otherwise. Plus, it was almost time.

  Vincent had watched Sam nursing that bottle of her grandmother’s concoction, but soon, very soon indeed, that homemade “headache” syrup wasn’t going to do her any good.

  In the time since he was first infected, ten years now, Vincent had learned much about what it meant to be a werewolf. The legendary mythos of lycanthropy had kernels of fact embedded within a generally well-written fiction, embellished to entertain and frighten. The moon, though... That shit was very true, especially with the first change, and time was ticking closer and closer to high tide. A full moon at high tide and a female werewolf on the cusp of her first changing...

  Vincent was startled out of his thoughts as Sam rounded the corner and walked toward him. He quickly hit the lift button, calling the nearest available one to the floor.

  Sam stopped beside him, looking up at the indicator lights above and watching as the numbers went up or down depending on the direction of each lift’s movement. She closed her eyes, sighed and rubbed at the back of her neck, moving her head back and forth, attempting to relieve the tension that was suddenly building in her neck and shoulders. The tension continued to increase and spread. Sam could literally feel the tension, the tightness, as it moved up her neck to the base of her skull and began to spread out towards either side of her he
ad. God, is that elevator ever going to GET HERE!

  She saw Vincent step forward and push the call button again, then return to his central position in the hallway to watch the indicators above the elevators, searching for signs of movement in their direction. He glanced over at her as he asked, “Are you all right?”

  Sam nodded as she replied, “Yep. Fine.” She was decidedly not fine. The tension was intensifying and could officially be called pain now. It was spreading out over her skull, a dull throbbing pain that spiked in clusters and moved around her head and neck.

  Spiked was a good word for it, a sharp stabbing pain that hit quickly and then dispersed, moving on to the next location and stabbing again. Sam tried to concentrate on keeping her breathing normal, on suppressing the awful feeling building up in the pit of her stomach and beginning to spread throughout her abdomen.

  She glanced at Vincent again; he hadn’t appeared to notice her discomfort, which meant she was either hiding it very well or he was preoccupied. While she hoped it was the former, Sam was inclined to go with the latter.

  Vincent had been a bit preoccupied since the church, since the decision was made to see Hudson, and Sam could honestly say he was making a point of avoiding eye contact. He’d made it clear that going to see Hudson was not something he approved of, but he wasn’t going to let her go it alone. Whether his position was motivated by nobility or fear remained to be seen.

  The elevator chimed and a set of doors at the end of the hall slid open. Vincent hurried to catch it, holding the door with his hand as he waited for Sam. He watched her carefully as she walked to the elevator, entering and moving immediately to the back. She leaned against the wall, her hands gripping the railing on either side of her.

  Vincent removed his hand and allowed the doors to close. “What floor?” His hand hovered over the numbers waiting for a reply. “Sam?”

  “Sorry. Seven. It’s the seventh floor.”