Blood Leverage (Bloodstone Chronicles Book 1)

by J S Hazzard

  The past week and a half had been so stressful I barely recognized my feelings as happiness. For the first time since my mom and Gigi had left, I felt almost relaxed—like a semi-normal girl, as opposed to a stress-ridden lunatic.

  In honor of the occasion, I took a long shower and touched up my crimson nail polish before putting on a wildly inappropriate pink dress. The halter top left my back and shoulders bare and I wore my hair loose, held off my face by only a tiny golden barrette.

  In a small concession to practicality, I tucked a pair of red high-heeled shoes (a never used gift from Gigi) into a bag and stepped into a pair of canvas slides for my trek to the vault. From the ankles up I looked like I was attending a tea party. The only thing missing was a wide brimmed hat, and if I’d owned one I would’ve worn that too.

  Inspired by my dress, I lined a wicker picnic basket with containers of frozen peaches from last summer, sliding the blood bag between them to keep it cold. Then I wedged last night’s medical debris along the side and covered everything with a brown dishtowel.

  After the unexpected success of yesterday’s incognito mission to Nicky’s place, it was inevitable that everyone would stare today—beginning with a wolf whistle courtesy of Skipper. He came hurtling across the lawn, shouting the entire way.

  “Holy cats, Rory! Where are you off to? Is it your birthday? Is it time for your hearing? Do you want me to go with you?” Breathless, he skidded to a stop while everyone within earshot waited for an answer I didn’t have.

  “My birthday isn’t until September, Skip,” I answered, tackling the only question I was prepared for. “I’m… off to mom’s vault to share a lunch with friends.” Close enough. I never said I’d be staying at the vault or that it was my lunch in the basket.

  Skipper screwed up his face in concentration as he considered this. “Why bother going to the vault, Rory? Couldn’t you have a picnic right here?”

  An excellent question. It felt like a prelude to my hearing questioning and I began to sweat. “My friends don’t live here, Skip. The vault is closer to them.” Hah, still the truth.

  “That sounds awesome. I’m gonna go ask mom if she’ll put together a picnic for my friends.” Then he ran off to pester poor Barb.

  I laughed as I walked away, careful to stay on the grass. Yesterday’s rain had blessedly sucked the humidity out of the air, but the dirt paths were solid mud. Carrying my fancy shoes had been an excellent decision.

  I felt like an old pro as I wrestled the vault’s door open. Despite the wet grass I drove on autopilot and everything was fine.

  It was minutes past noon when I parked the truck and I exchanged my canvas shoes for the strappy red heels I could barely walk in. Still, I had no great distance to cover and their frivolity suited my mood.

  With my peach-and-blood picnic dangling from my arm, I picked my way to the trapdoor. Not wanting to enter uninvited I scanned my finger, stepped back, and waited. Though I heard the trapdoor lock disengage, no one came to let me in. After a minute, a second click told me the lock had re-engaged. So much for Ian’s doorbell.

  Fortunately, I still had the low-tech options at my disposal.

  Feeling like a moron in my fancy dress, I stepped onto the door and hopped three times. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! The crash of my wooden stilettos against the metal sounded incredibly loud to me—and the scores of birds I unwittingly sent flying for their lives agreed.

  Remembering Ian’s affinity for bursting through doors, I leapt aside. Still, nothing.

  I stood there uncertainly, considering the possibilities. The vampires couldn’t possibly have missed the noise, but I couldn’t recall whether the cameras showed this area or not. Maybe they didn’t know who was here. Feeling like the queen of all imbeciles, I bent down and yelled at the door, “If you can hear me, it’s Rory!”

  Nothing. Clearly no one was home.

  This left me with two choices. I could leave or let myself in. Leaving would be more polite, but Amy’s blood had been out of the refrigerator for an hour already and my peaches had to be thawing. No way was I wasting it. I’d leave the blood in the fridge with a note.

  My decision made, I pressed my finger to the keypad again. The door unlatched with a hiss and I used a tree branch to lever it up, grunting at the exertion. Brushing moss from my skirt, I dragged the basket in behind me before pulling the door shut.

  I stopped short when I reached the bottom of the steps, confronted with the first of Keanu’s empty ‘security’ rooms. Crap.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was hopelessly lost and ready to murder Keanu. After the first dozen doorways I’d tucked my shoes into my basket, their pointy heels carefully aimed away from the blood bag. The basket grew heavier as my arm tired, and only the idea I might find my way in before I found my way back out kept me from ditching it altogether.

  Disgusted, I set the basket down and leaned against a doorway to catch my breath. There weren’t that many rooms, but some dead-ended and I had no way to tell when I was repeating rooms I’d already tried. Ariadne had used string to navigate the Grecian labyrinth and Hansel and Gretel had tried bread crumbs. Unfortunately, I was fresh out of both.

  Then I looked at the basket by my feet.

  Re-energized, I opened the first container in my basket and extracted a partly thawed, sticky slice of peach. Careful not to drip on my dress, I dropped the first slice in front of the door I’d been leaning against and smiled.

  I was off and running, leaving slices of peach in front of every door I passed, until I either dead-ended or came to a doorway I’d already tried. Within minutes, I opened the doorway into the Promised Land—aka the rear hallway to the kitchen.

  The moment I stepped inside, Keanu swept me into an enormous hug, grinning from ear to ear and all but howling with laughter.

  “You jackass!” I grabbed a shoe from the basket and smacked his arm with it. “You’ve been watching the entire time, haven’t you?” I smacked him with the shoe again and then slipped both shoes on before I tried to break them over his head. “Are you that lazy you couldn’t come let me in?”

  I stomped to the kitchen sink, jabbing a sticky finger at him. “You can clean those peaches up yourself.” I couldn’t believe I’d wheedled my best friend’s blood for this barbarian. If Amy hadn’t been excited about the possible financial boost I would cheerfully have emptied the blood bag down the sink.

  Keanu slunk in as I was rinsing the first sticky container and grabbed a dishcloth to pitch in. Still aggrieved, I snatched the rag back.

  “C’mon Rory, I didn’t do it to be mean. Or out of laziness,” he tacked on. “It’s only that Ian told me to stay away today. He didn’t say he wanted you to stay away, but—”

  He shrugged and grinned again. “I figured if you found the way in, it eliminated me from the equation. If it helps, I had faith in you. That peach thing was great, even if you did hit almost every doorway before getting it right.”

  I continued to glare.

  “And not only will I clean up every piece of peach, I’ll run your containers through the dishwasher.” When I remained unmoved, he stuck his lip out in an exaggerated pout until I finally gave in and laughed.

  “I didn’t think Ian would want company today,” I pointed out. “I came for you, you obnoxious baboon.” I rinsed my hands, happy to leave the sticky dishes in the sink.

  He preened as if I’d paid him a compliment. “To what do I owe this unexpected honor?”

  I snorted in disdain, but was smiling as I replied. “Don’t flatter yourself. It wasn’t like I wanted the pleasure of your company. I had a time-sensitive delivery.”

  “Oh?” My words intrigued him enough to straighten out of his habitual slouch. “I hope it wasn’t the peaches,” he said, snickering.

  “It would serve you right, but no, no fruit. Our conversation last night gave me an idea. I hope I’m not overstepping any boundaries with this.” I removed the blood bag from its spot beside the one remaining full container of peaches.


  Fortunately it still felt cold.

  “It won’t be anything like Nicky,” I warned him, “but I was wondering how you’d feel about a loyal blonde with a quirky sense of humor and abundant free-spiritedness.” I extended the bag on the palm of my hand, watching him closely.

  “Also,” I added as I waited for him to respond, “in this one circumstance there might also be a hint of Bordeaux, but that was a first time ice breaker. It wouldn’t be the norm,” I concluded rapidly.

  Nothing. Not a twitch or a murmur. I tilted my hand back and forth a few degrees like a fisherman trying to lure a trout. Nothing.

  “Okay then.” I reached over to return the blood to the basket, embarrassed. “I’m sorry if I was inappropriate.”

  “You weren’t.”

  He said it so quietly I barely heard him. Before I’d registered the movement, I found myself on Keanu’s lap, his face was pressed into my neck so closely I initially thought he was kissing me.

  When I made a futile attempt to move, two things became apparent. First, we were sitting on the kitchen table instead of at it, leaving my shoes well above the floor. I literally had no ground to stand on. More importantly, like most actions involving vampires, if a vampire decides he wants to hold you, you’ll be held until he wants to stop. I relaxed and after a few minutes Keanu turned me to see his face again.

  “Feeling better?” I gave his hair a friendly tug where it hit his collar and he bounced me on his knee and made me giggle before lowering me to a proper chair.

  “I am, thank you, and I’m sorry about that. It’s been a long time since I’ve received such a gift.”

  “Okay,” I acknowledged. “I’m glad you’re pleased. But come on, don’t you want to taste it before you get all emotional?” I was dying to see if things would work out for my oldest friend, and also, I supposed, my newest friend.

  His smile brightened to its normal wattage as he accepted the blood bag. I found it vaguely humorous when he brought out a paper-thin crystal wine glass, as Keanu came off as more of a drink from the bottle sort of guy—or in this case, from the bag.

  He poured a nominal amount and gently swirled the blood around the glass with his hand cupped beneath the bowl portion of it.

  “Warming it a little?” I guessed.

  “Truer sense of the flavor than when it’s cold,” he confirmed. “This is what’s known as a tasting glass.”

  I stared in open disbelief. “You two must be the prissiest vampires alive.” Or not alive—whatever.

  A squeak on the tiles diverted me from further mockery and I looked over my shoulder to see Ian shuffling to the fridge, a pair of headphones clamped over his ears.

  “He’ll be listening to classical music at full blast,” Keanu whispered. “Those headphones are specifically designed to accommodate a high volume to help vampires block outside noise. Ian likes music when he’s ill.”

  I studied Ian from behind as he retrieved an ice pack from the freezer, oblivious to our presence fifteen feet away. “Can he hear us at all?”

  “If he’s listening to his usual volume, not likely. He’s trying not to hear anything. If I wanted his attention I’d have to flash the lights or thump the wall or something.”

  Wanting to at least wave hello, I lightly tapped the heel of my shoe on the tile floor in hopes the vibration would get his attention. As he turned around I sucked in a breath at the sight of him.

  He looked horrifically ill in a way that gave him an ethereal sort of beauty. His expression was pinched as though every movement was painful and he moved with the stiffness of an old man instead of the irritating grace I’d become accustomed to. Still, he smiled when he saw me and I pushed my chair back with the intention of greeting him.

  His smile froze when I stood and he snarled to the point of showing fangs. I stepped back with the intention of retreating when I realized Ian was snarling at Keanu. Confused, I looked back and forth between them as Keanu continued to swirl his prissy tasting glass without seeing it.

  Meanwhile, Ian’s snarls grew louder with every second that passed. I looked back at Keanu, still motionless except for his hand, and then it hit me.

  The wineglass. The blood bag. Holy mother of God.

  “Keanu…” I began backing away toward the counter. “Put the wineglass down now! Don’t you get it, he thinks the blood in your glass—”

  My warning was cut short as Ian sprang through the air. The glass and blood bag went flying as Ian smashed into his best friend like a boulder, destroying Keanu’s chair.

  “—is mine.” I finished too late, sighing as the two vampires began crashing around the room, wreaking havoc as they went. Any possible explanation was aborted as I hopped onto the counter to avoid being trampled by my so-called friends.

  Unfortunately, evasion wasn’t an option for the furniture. One of the table legs was promptly reduced to splinters and was followed by a second table leg—at which point the table came crashing down altogether only to have Ian and Keanu smash through the heavy glass tabletop a fraction of a second later.

  Meanwhile, I was alternating between shrieking for them to stop and screaming that the blood wasn’t mine. Not that it mattered. Ian couldn’t hear me.

  I stopped shouting long enough to yelp as the men smacked into the cabinet below me, causing a cascade of coffee mugs to come raining down from the cabinet above. I scooted to another section of counter and decided a new plan was necessary, one that had me exiting this room and staying far away until these two idiots wore themselves out.

  Okay, maybe I wasn’t being fair to Keanu here. I mean, not that he wasn’t an idiot—I was still irked about the peaches—but he hadn’t been the one to start throwing punches. Besides, Keanu could hear me. It just wasn’t helping.

  Damn it. I’d been going about this the wrong way. I directed my next scream at Keanu. “Keanu, you idiot, PULL HIS EARPHONES OFF!”

  It took a few seconds to sink in, but then Keanu deliberately dropped his guard and stopped moving. Ian took the opportunity for another punch, but even as Keanu’s head snapped back he snaked his arm behind Ian’s head and ripped the headset from his ears, flipping it in my general direction to land on the counter beside me.

  I’d underestimated the level of volume a vampire required to block outside noise—a decibel capable of shattering human eardrums—and thought I was going to die. Forget about explanations, there was nothing but noise. I clamped my hands over my ears, but it didn’t help. With my last bit of focus before I lost consciousness, I kicked the headset into the suds-filled sink.

  Then I passed out and rolled off the counter onto the floor full of glass.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  IN what was becoming a pattern, I woke with two faces hovering above mine—only this time I woke pissed. My first coherent impulse was to smack Ian, which I did with all the force of a leaf fluttering to the ground.

  In response, they beamed down like they’d performed a miracle.

  “Oh, thank God,” Keanu said fervently. “She’s alright.”

  “Pity I can say the same about you two idiots,” I muttered, attempting to sit up. Then I glanced down and froze. I was wearing an elegant ivory slip made from silk of a stunning quality. Under most circumstances I’d have been thrilled to wear such a garment but this qualified as an exception, particularly since the apparel could only belong to the oh-so-fabulous Ms. Parkes.

  Now I could add a posh wardrobe to my growing list of reasons to hate her.

  “Ian…” I sat straighter and glared at both of them. “Where is my dress?”

  They took a simultaneous step backward as I slid my legs off the bed to face them. “WHERE IS MY DRESS?” Whoa. I felt off balance and wondered what sort of healing I’d required this time.

  “I’m very sorry, Aurora,” Ian muttered, looking at the floor.

  “Consider it a casualty of war?” Keanu suggested.

  I took a deep breath and managed to wrangle my rising temper—for about five seconds
. And then I let it rip.

  “I can’t believe you morons wrecked my dress! I can’t believe I went to all the effort to get blood from my best friend, drove here, and even found my way through that stupid maze to bring a surprise to two such enormous assholes as yourselves!”

  They blinked in unison and looked at one another, ignoring me.

  “Did she call us assholes?” Keanu murmured.

  “It would appear she did,” Ian rejoined blandly.

  “I’m sitting right in front of you!” I shrieked, out of control.

  “Oh, she’s feeling better.” Keanu nodded approvingly. “Her color is back up.”

  “If she feels any ‘better’ she’ll give herself a stroke.” Ian gestured toward my face. “That vein in her forehead is troubling—see how it’s twitching? Her blood pressure must be through the roof.”

  Since strangling them wasn’t feasible, I flopped back down and pressed my hands to my face, marveling at the chain of events that had brought my life to this moment.

  Maybe I should take a page from Jenny’s book. Surely I could find a nice man somewhere who’d knock me up and turn me into a walking incubator like other women my age. They all appeared complacent enough and it was a safe bet they never found themselves in situations like this.

  I heard my own teeth grinding.

  “We’re sorry about your dress, Rory,” Keanu said. He looked pitifully sad but I wasn’t buying it. “I’ll replace it, I promise. Even better, I’ll buy two new dresses, because we were idiots.”

  “No argument there,” I retorted, “but I’ve seen your wardrobe, remember?” I shook my head, noting a slight ringing in my ears. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “Hey! That t-shirt was vintage and irreplaceable!” Keanu looked highly offended.

  “Please.” Ian rolled his eyes at the friend he’d been trying to murder a short while ago. “Vintage and irreplaceable describes every piece of clothing you own—and not in a good way. So I’ll pick the new dresses and spare Aurora from your sense of fashion.”