“You don’t know that for sure,” Arianna said, putting her arms around the young woman while casting a doubtful glance at Roxy. “We can help. And so can my fiancé, Jackson.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE OPENING BAND at the blues club had just finished playing so everyone poured outside for a smoke before the headliner took the stage. When Roxy had called Santiago, he told her to get to the nearest populated place and wait for him. Crowds were good—they were relatively safe with all these people around, but Roxy fingered her blade anyway.
She picked up the scent of a few vampires nearby, which she wasn’t sure were peaceful members of their society. One hadn’t fed recently but the other smelled fully blooded. What she couldn’t tell was if he’d completely drained the human or just had a healthy sip. Another couple—a youthling male and female—were making out on a nearby park bench. One of her legs was across his thigh and his hand was up her shirt.
A group of college-age guys walked by the amorous couple.
“Jesus. Get a room,” someone yelled.
“Ten bucks if you go down on her,” said another.
She could see a potential altercation brewing so she moved in that direction to stave it off. That was the problem with a vampire’s higher libido. If you weren’t careful around humans, you stuck out like a freak, which was why most establishments that catered to their people had private rooms for this sort of thing. She didn’t know if there were any around here or not.
The male youthling lifted his head. His pupils were fully dilated. “Fuck off, you little shit. You’re just jealous.”
Roxy didn’t say anything, just sat down on the edge of their bench and gave the couple a closed-mouth smile.
The male youthing’s eyes narrowed as he recognized she was a vampire. “Who are you?”
“A friend who doesn’t want there to be any trouble. Isn’t there somewhere less public than this? I’m sure you don’t mean to draw such attention to yourselves, do you? After all, you won’t be able to take it as far as you’d like out here anyway. Am I right?”
“Calder, let’s go,” the young woman murmured, pulling him to his feet. “She’s right. We can finish this over at the Pink Salon. Besides, I’m thirsty and they make the best Bellinis over there.” She stood on her tiptoes and whispered something into his ear. He smiled and let her lead him away. “Thanks,” she mouthed to Roxy.
“Ah, Roxy?”
She turned to see Arianna and Cosette talking to a bouncer not much taller than they were, but he had biceps as thick as a horse’s neck.
“You coming in or not?” he said to them. “I don’t have all night.”
“Are we, Roxy?” Arianna asked. “Your call.”
She didn’t want to go in if they didn’t have to. A few dark patches down the street looked to be more than empty shadows. It could be Santiago and Jackson, and in that case, they’d be leaving soon. But on the off chance they were Darkbloods… She recalled hearing that this was a popular part of town for Darkbloods to sell their wares to their customers. “Hold on.”
“Listen, lady—”
In an instant, she closed the distance between them and passed a hand over the bouncer’s temple. “There’s a fight in the back and they need you inside. And while you’re at it, we’ll take a table near the front and a round of drinks,” she said, careful to keep her voice low. “I’ll have a…a peach Bellini and my friends will have…”
White wine and a glass of ice water were their answers.
“Now, go,” she said with a flick of her fingers, shooing him away. He’d probably wonder later why the hell he was ordering drinks for these customers.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said and disappeared inside.
Great. She didn’t look old enough to be a ma’am, did she? Even though some of her students referred to her that way, she would never get used to it. That term should be used for people Mary Alice’s age, not hers.
Slightly irritated, she turned back around and that’s when a movement caught her eye. Two shadows pulled away from the darkness at the end of an alley. She shot a warning glance over to Arianna and Cosette only to find that they had gone inside.
The shadows continued to move, hugging the side of a brick building, then flowing across a side street like liquid darkness on the pavement. Since she was upwind, she couldn’t tell if they were Santiago and Jackson or Darkbloods. When she’d talked to Santiago, she assumed he was bringing a medic team, which would mean more than two shadows. Then it occurred to her, what if the line was bugged? Could Darkbloods have learned she had Cosette and that they were here? If only she could’ve brought the young woman to the field office but human visitors were strictly forbidden unless they had prior clearance. She tried to remember what she’d said on the phone. Had she used the young woman’s name? She didn’t think so and yet—
The two shadows morphed into men just outside the ring of light from a streetlamp. Her heartbeat quickened and she palmed her blade. Darkbloods traveled in pairs. These were big men and she was—
Although their faces were hidden, she recognized the broad-shouldered silhouette of the first one. With a confident air about him, Santiago strode past the wrought-iron post and headed toward her on the cobblestone sidewalk, Jackson right on his heel. She sheathed her weapon and let herself relax for the first time since finding the woman in that dingy motel.
“What are you guys doing sneaking around like that?” she said. “I thought you were a couple of Darkbloods.”
Santiago shrugged. “Easier this way. Parking down here at this time of night is a bitch.”
“Where are they?” Jackson asked, looking straight past her. She started to tell him that they were at a table near the front, but he interrupted. “Never mind. I see them.” He brushed past her without waiting for her to finish and headed inside.
Santiago scanned the people milling around in the area outside the clubs. “I want you to accompany Arianna and the young woman up to the safe house. Jackson and I will take over from here and search for the Darkbloods who did this.”
“No.” She did not drag them to this club and wait only to be told she wasn’t necessary.
He raised one eyebrow, giving her a look that said he wasn’t accustomed to having people defy him. Well, he could just kiss her ass. She was going with them whether he liked it or not.
“I will not allow two humans, one of whom appears to be a Darkblood target with valuable information about the enemy, to drive two hours alone at night. With Alfonso gone, the safe house isn’t staffed with one of our kind.”
“Then have Jackson go with them.”
“He’s a Guardian, Roxy. I need him with me. This person may be responsible for what happened to Dom. This is an ongoing investigation and you are not part of it.”
She was getting nowhere with him. “And who is going to track the scent?”
“He and I will—”
“I can do it much faster than either of you. This is what I do.” She bit her lip, wondering whether to tell him about the Darkblood female’s scent matching the one on the ring.
He had that unbendable look on his face. “You will do as I tell you.”
“There you go, being a jerk again.” She paused to get his reaction, but he seemed unfazed, so she had no other choice. “It makes sense that Jackson accompany Arianna and Cosette since no other Guardians are up there. What if Darkbloods come after her when they discover she’s no longer in that dingy motel room?”
“But—”
“Besides, I’m almost positive that the Darkblood behind this is the same one who tried to sell Ian’s sword.”
Santiago’s head snapped up. “The woman? Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Roxy answered. “I recognized the faint scent from the ring back at the motel.”
He ran a hand over his short hair. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph.”
“My sentiments exactly.”
“Listen, Roxy.” She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like what he had
to say. “This woman could be the Seattle area sector mistress, a woman named Ventra Capelli. We’ve been trying to find her for months, but she’s proven to be very elusive.”
“So let me track her. If we get a lock on her location, you can call in your team.”
“My point is—”
“That I’m just a teacher, right?” She knew exactly what he was implying. She glared at him and damned if he didn’t look sheepish. “So don’t go trying to tell me that I’m not coming, because I am. I intend to find this woman and figure out what she knows about Ian’s death. And if you don’t approve—” she made finger quote marks “—then I’ll go by myself. Fortunately for me, I’m not a Guardian, which means I am not technically under your authority here or in the field office.”
He grumbled something, but frankly, she was tired of listening to his lame excuses. For the first time in decades, she finally had a bonafide lead regarding what had happened to Ian and she wasn’t about to run along because Santiago thought she couldn’t handle it. She’d been handling things herself for as long as she could remember. She didn’t need him telling her what she could and couldn’t do.
“I’ll let you come with me on one condition.”
She put her hands on her hips. This had better be good. “And what would that be?”
“This is my deal, my assignment. I realize you don’t work for me, but when we’re out in the field, you take orders from me. I don’t care if you agree with me or not. This isn’t only about you. I have other people to consider, people who do work for me and I can’t have you undermining my decisions or endangering the lives of others because you decide to go off on your own. Is that understood?”
She thought about her choices. Go it alone or go it with one of the finest Guardians working for the Agency. In the end, it was an easy decision.
* * *
SANTIAGO WHITE-KNUCKLED the steering wheel. She was still in love with Ian. There was no doubt about it.
Frustration heated up his insides as it looked for a place to fester and grow. He wanted to throw something, yell every curse word he knew, but instead he managed to drive along in silence as the cold night air whipped around from the rolled-down window.
He recalled seeing a female duck whose mate had been hit and killed by a car. She’d called to him over and over, wandering around the parking lot aimlessly for hours, waiting for him to answer. Not knowing where to go or what to do, she’d fly away for a while only to return a short time later.
Without warning, a chasm opened in his gut and it felt as if something had been plucked out. There was no room in her heart for anyone else but Ian, and Santiago had been a fool to think otherwise.
They drove around in silence as the rain became slush then snow. Roxy’s hair whipped across her face, her eyes closed as she took in all the scents.
It was for the best anyway, he thought. He had no business falling for someone. Not now, not later. He needed to consider it a blessing in disguise that she wasn’t available emotionally. He wasn’t relationship material anyway. Who was he fooling?
His mother’s shrill voice rang in his ear like an echo, claiming he’d grow up to be just like his father, that he was untrustworthy. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and felt his foot pressing down on the accelerator.
With Cosette’s blessing, Roxy had insisted they stop by the girls’ apartment in order for her to pick up something she could use as a scent marker for Yvonne. The Darkblood female’s scent was too faint to track from around the motel, so she’d hoped the sister’s scent would lead straight to both of them. They followed it across one of the Lake Washington bridges and east into the mountains.
“It’s gotten a little stronger since we got off the freeway,” Roxy said, her eyes still closed. “But careful. Not too fast. We’re getting closer.”
“How can you tell?” Wasn’t a scent a scent? You followed it until it didn’t go any farther? Given the higher elevation, the snow was starting to stick to the road, so he downshifted rather than using the brakes.
“Imagine dipping a spoon into a bowl of honey and drizzling it onto a piece of bread. If you move the spoon quickly, the trail of honey is stretched thin, but if you slow it down, the line becomes thicker as more honey is deposited onto a smaller area. Same thing happens with a scent. It became more concentrated once we took the exit and slowed down. There’s more of the scent to smell. And when it gets even stronger, I know they must’ve been slowing down. It gets thicker, you know?”
It occurred to him that if he and Jackson had done this without Roxy’s help, they’d still be in downtown Seattle. Jesus H, this woman was good. He wanted to stay pissed off at her but he was too busy being impressed.
“There.” She pointed to an overgrown road leading up into the trees. She wanted him to drive his car through that mess? “Yvonne—if she’s still alive—is somewhere up there.”
He glanced at the lightening sky. Sunrise was less than an hour away. They didn’t have a lot of time.
“You’d better not be thinking about waiting till sunset tonight,” Roxy said.
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“The girl could be dead by then.”
He slowed down. “She could be dead now.”
“Yes, but the longer we wait, the more likely that possibility.”
“It’s just you and me, Roxy. If we wait till tomorrow, a few other agents could join us.”
“Like I said, Yvonne could be dead by then.” Then she added, “Let’s hide the car here and continue the rest of the way on foot.”
He didn’t know what it was, but she had a manner about her that made you automatically do what she wanted before you questioned it much. Like a teacher. Or a damn hypnotist.
Ten minutes later, they were shadow moving through the trees and arrived at a small clearing at the top of the mountain. Out of necessity, he let her go first but it afforded him the chance to watch her from behind. She effortlessly melded with the darkness as if they were one and the same, dancing past the tree trunks and through the bushes. But as the sky lightened to a pale gray, it made shadow moving more difficult, so by the time the forest opened up, they weren’t able to move with the darkness at all.
He had a bad feeling about this. One mistake could cost them and they’d be stuck out in daylight.
She stopped near a downed tree and he moved in right behind her. In the center of a clearing stood an old gothic monstrosity, complete with gargoyles guarding the front entrance, crumbling stone steps, and a sagging front porch. Morning glory vines snaked up the sides of the mansion and twisted under the eaves like a spreading disease, choking and covering everything in its path. A few of the windows had been broken out at one time and from what he could tell, the vines had found their way inside, as well. Given the condition of the outside, he’d hate to see what the inside looked like. It couldn’t be much better. He had a hard time imagining that anyone would want to live in such a place.
But then he remembered the coffins. He’d destroyed many dens where Darkbloods had been sleeping in them and this place was probably no different. In fact, he’d be surprised if he didn’t find any coffins here. Sick, if you asked him. And twisted. He enjoyed beds with sheets and mattresses along with a nice roof over his head.
Darkbloods relished living in the same conditions as their violent ancestors before they began grouping into any sort of organized societies. Old decrepit structures abandoned by humans. Cemetery crypts. Caves carved into the sides of mountains. As he looked around, it certainly felt like the perfect Darkblood lair. It wouldn’t surprise him to learn that they were using dirt from their homeland to line the bottoms of their coffins, an old wives tale from long ago that said the soil from your homeland would bring you great power and prosperity. It was a way to never forget where you came from. And Darkbloods, looking to return to their violent roots, took this to heart.
“Can you smell that?”
He smelled nothing but the damp forest air. “No.
”
Roxy leaned against a tree trunk and closed her eyes. He started to say something but she held up her pointer finger, a gesture that told him to keep quiet for a minute because she was concentrating. He wanted to know if there were Darkbloods inside and whether or not the sweetblood girl was still alive. As he waited for Roxy, he brushed a damp fern from his boot, clasped his hands behind his head then got antsy and folded them across his chest.
“Shush,” she whispered without opening her eyes.
“What? I didn’t say anything.”
“I can hear you moving.”
“I’m not moving.”
“Yes, you are. You’re fidgeting.”
He made a sound of protest. “What are you talking about? I’m just standing here.”
“Well then stand there more quietly,” she said. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
And then there it was. The beginning of a smile. Oh, she tried covering it up right away by chewing on her lip, but it was too late. He’d seen it. Clearly, she was enjoying hassling him.
It occurred to him that despite all she’d seen—his outbursts, his tantrums, his attempts to torture himself—she wasn’t scared or intimidated by him. She didn’t hesitate in telling him what to do. Or in this case, what not to do.
No one nitpicked him. Ever. Or treated him like he needed to be managed.
So the fact that she did and felt comfortable enough doing so made him feel…special, different. And he realized he…liked it.
Her eyes flew open and she grabbed his arm.
Busted. He instantly felt guilty that he’d been staring at her.
“Yvonne is inside and still alive. But barely. Someone fed from her recently and came close to draining her. Two, no three, Darkbloods are on the premises. One of them might be outside, but I can’t tell for sure. It could be the state of disrepair—the broken windows and dilapidated roof—that makes the scents read as if they’re outside when they’re not.”
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