The Bloodline War (The Community)

by Tracy Tappan

  “You know the Vârcolac history of discovery. Being found out would be hugely problematic for the people around here, including my own children.”

  “No one’s going to find out where we are,” Kimberly assured Beth. “Even if it turns out Alex can tell us how to crack the code box, he couldn’t use the information to breach an entrance himself to get to us. He doesn’t know where our entrances are, any more than we do.”

  Beth mulled that over for a moment. “I suppose you’re right,” she said, chewing her bottom lip. “One of us needs to stay down here, though.”

  Kimberly straightened the chair, planting her feet on the floor. “Are you kidding? Do you have any idea how much backlash there’s going to be?”

  Beth spread her hands. “We promised the other Dragons that none of the husbands would get hurt,” she reasoned. “You won’t get them to escape topside unless a go-between stays behind to email a message if one of the husbands’ blood-need gets too severe.”

  “Shit.” Kimberly clasped her brow between the stretch of her thumb and forefinger. Beth was probably right; if they assured the husbands’ wellbeing from the get-go that would help shut down possible complaints. “Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll stay.” So much for the happy reunion she’d planned to have with her parents.

  “No. You’re the fantastic bluffer, remember? You’ll be needed topside to negotiate with Roth.” Beth drew in a breath that swelled her breasts. “I’ll be the one to do it.”

  Kimberly dipped her chin, eyeing Beth askance. “Are you sure?” Beth seemed more like the type of woman to get out of the kitchen when things got too hot.

  Beth’s throat worked around a swallow, but her nod was firm. “Yes. This is something I need to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Toni barely made it out of Aunt Ælsi’s with her hand still attached to her wrist. Everyone in the morning coffee crowd had been determined to grab it, pat it sympathetically, and ask how she was doing, all the while tut-tutting over the fading three-day-old bruise on her jaw. She didn’t think she’d ever been engulfed in so much genuine niceness and affection before. It’d made her feel glad she’d left her room. She still felt like warmed over hell, but hadn’t wanted to put off visiting Dev in the hospital another day.

  She was now strolling along Main Street, surrounded by Vinz, Gábor, and the two warriors whose names she’d forgotten before: Jeddin and Breen. Jaċken was conspicuously absent, as he had been ever since he’d ordered her to finish her juice, then all but bolted from her bedroom.

  She should be glad for it. Thrilled, even. Between him manhandling her during the letter-opener incident, his stinginess with The African Queen, and his overall rude behavior at Garwald’s, she should welcome a break from his oh-so-stellar personality.

  But the truth was, she kind of missed him.

  She nearly groaned. Dear God, if she was developing feelings for that man, she might as well hike to the highest point in the cave and leap off. It didn’t make any sense for her to fall for a man like Jaċken. Dark and smoldering Dev? Yes. Thomal? Christ, who wouldn’t with that amazing ass? Detective John Waterson with his sexy smile and even sexier kisses? He was absolutely a sensible candidate. Not an ill-tempered, black-eyed, tank of a man, who, oh, incidentally, claimed to be a half-demon, half-vampire.

  If she didn’t know better, she’d think she’d suffered permanent brain damage from her concussion.

  Or maybe it made too much sense to fall for a man like Jaċken, and that scared the crap out of her. There was no denying she wanted to jump his bones and plunder his virginity all to hell like the worst sort of pirate wench. There was also no getting around the connection she kept forging with him whenever they had their run-ins. Each time, she found a new similarity, whether it was knowing what it felt like to be trapped and alone, or always feeling like a freak, or the big one, being raised by rejects for the Father of the Year award, or not raised, as in her case.

  If only he hadn’t smiled at her at Garwald’s; that’s what had set off this whole lovesick thing. It hadn’t even been a friendly smile, but he’d just looked so…different, the hard angles of his face softening, small lines appearing at the corners of his eyes, years peeling away to reveal the young man he must’ve been once. Or maybe the man he would’ve been, had he not been raised in such horrific circumstances.

  Or maybe…the man he could be…with the right woman.

  Yes, excellent. That was exactly what she needed to be thinking right now.

  Oh, for Pete’s sake. A girl didn’t get together with a man in order to save him. A woman fell for a guy who truly understood her on a soul-deep level…a guy who called her things like “whack job” and “nagging shrew” because he knew she wasn’t perfect and was totally fine with it. A girl flipped over a man she trusted to do something really sweet like show up in her room with a thermos of juice, even if he’d blown it the first time around, a guy who made her feel safe, even when he looked a little lost himself.

  A girl fell in love with a man whose mere presence did a whole lot of saving her.

  Fall in love…Oh, God. She pressed a hand to her forehead and moaned. She was in real trouble here.

  “Hey, Toni,” Vinz set a gentle palm on her shoulder. “You all right?”

  She stopped walking. “Yes, I, um, was just thinking….” About what it’d felt like to have Jaċken stroke her hair. His touch had been inexpert and unsure, clumsy. In a word, perfect.

  “Are you having flashbacks about what happened with Lørke?” Vinz’s brow furrowed. “I don’t want you to worry about that, okay. The men and I aren’t going to let anything happen to you. Just stick with us.”

  Yes, well, that’d been the main stipulation for her to be allowed outside of the mansion again: no more escaping her Protection Team, definitely no more going back into Stânga Town. “Thank you, Vinz.” She smiled faintly. “I know.”

  They continued on to the hospital.

  Once inside, Gábor, Jeddin, and Breen took up posts around the building while Vinz led her to Dev’s room. Toni stopped in the doorway, shock bringing her up short.

  The patient looked remarkably good.

  Dev was sitting up in bed and chatting with his sister, Luvera, that sweet-natured waitress from Garwald’s, his dark flannel pajama top doing wonders to emphasize his robust frame and healthy complexion. There wasn’t a cannula in his nose to give him extra oxygen or even an IV line.

  Toni frowned. How bizarre. She’d had a close-up view of the severity of Dev’s wound, and he shouldn’t be looking this good only three days after his injury. The punch she’d taken to her jaw, as bad as it’d been, had been way less debilitating than Dev’s injury, yet he looked a hundred times better than she did.

  “Hey!” Dev’s eyes brightened when he saw her in the doorway. “Come on in, Toni. Have you met my sister, Luvera?”

  Luvera turned to smile at her, her eyes the same dazzling silver as Dev’s and her hair a similar rich black. The woman was stunning, even dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and a long, shapeless skirt. Sheesh, spend enough time in Ţărână and a normally pretty girl would start feeling like the Thing that had crawled out from under a bridge.

  “Yes, we’ve met. Hi, Luvera.” Toni walked forward, stopping at the side of Dev’s bed. “She’s been campaigning for you.”

  “Has she?” Dev flashed his sister an affectionate look. “That’s cool. Did she mention I can—Whoa.” Dev’s brows soared. “You smell different.”

  “Ah, yes, I’m wearing some kind of gross mud now.” She hadn’t been thrilled about having to slap on that nasty stuff behind her ears. It was both sticky and tingly, but that had been Stipulation Two for going outside the mansion. “Here, I brought you this.” She held up the coffee she’d purchased with some credits at Aunt Ælsi’s. “A Mocha Frappuccino.”

  “Hey, thanks.” Dev’s expression turned wry as he accepted the to-go cup. “I…look like a Mocha Frappuccino guy, do I?”

  “I don’t know.
” She shrugged. “I just wanted to do something to thank you for saving my can.”

  Dev chuckled. “Well, it’s such a nice can….” He took a sip. His eyebrows shot up. “This is straight black coffee.”

  She smiled warmly. “Is it?”

  He chuckled again, the sound resonant and smoky. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you check out my wound, Doc, and give me a thumbs up for getting out of here.” He set his coffee cup on the tray attached to his bed. “Then you and I can go someplace private.”

  She laughed outright at that. Get out of here. The man was delusional. “Still vying for a medical examination from me, are you, Mr. Nichita? Well, you’ve already had one, buddy. Three days ago. In Stânga Town.”

  Dev frowned over that, then understanding lit his face. He threw back his head and whooped, his gold hoop earring catching the light. “You mean that nut-grab you pulled on me? Hell, I’d hardly call that a…now, wait just a second here…. I might be okay with that.”

  The group of them laughed together just as Dr. Jess bustled into the room.

  “Well, sakes alive,” the doctor’s eyes danced, “how wonderful to see everyone in such high spirits. Ah! Dr. Parthen, how are you feeling?”

  “Better, thank you.”

  “Excellent.” Dr. Jess smiled cheerfully. “Please, stay and observe, then. I was just going to check Devid’s injury. This will give you the opportunity to observe a vampire’s healing abilities at their finest.”

  Toni blinked. A vampire’s…?

  “The Nichitas have some of the purest bloodlines in the community. Their powers of restoration are truly extraordinary.” Dr. Jess wheeled over a cart full of medical paraphernalia. “Come closer, Dr. Parthen.”

  “Yes, come closer,” Dev all but purred. His silver eyes latched onto her as he unbuttoned his flannel shirt and shrugged it off, baring the powerful muscles of his smooth chest.

  Toni walked around the bed, suddenly feeling like she was moving in a trance, and stopped next to Dr. Jess. Every nerve in her body prickled with a strange anticipation of something huge about to happen.

  Dr. Jess tugged on a pair of latex gloves.

  “…gotta go,” Luvera was saying. “Mom says she’ll come by later to….”

  The doctor carefully peeled the white square of bandage from Dev’s shoulder, then set the dirty gauze on the cart.

  Toni sucked in a painful breath.

  “You see!” Jess exclaimed triumphantly. “Most Vârcolac would need to wear their stitches for a week, but Devid’s can be taken out already.”

  Toni abruptly felt as if her feet were no longer in solid contact with the floor. Dr. Jess was right; the skin was completely closed beneath Dev’s stitches. The wound was still red, yes, and somewhat swollen, but for the most part it looked like a laceration that’d been healing for two weeks, not three days. Toni’s heart slipped somewhere down into the environs of her feet, and she swallowed so hard her throat made a noise. This had to be a trick, some kind of super-fancy, complicated FX. She’d seen Dev’s wound, damn it, and it was a biological impossibility for an injury of that magnitude to have mended so quickly.

  “Excuse me,” she snapped, pushing past Dr. Jess. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re trying to pull here, but it’s not going to work.” Snatching up a pair of latex gloves, she wrenched them on and bent close to Dev, exploring his shoulder with gentle fingers.

  “Jesus Christ,” Dev hissed.

  A disquieting unease pressed the oxygen from her lungs. Dev’s skin was repaired. Genuinely. Actually. No fake, no special effect. She straightened, hearing a low ringing in her ears.

  And what about all of the time she’d spent with Dr. Jess in his lab three days ago? She hadn’t been able to find a single fault or error in his methods.

  And the unreal glow in Dev’s eyes?

  Thomal’s impossible speed? The dragon tattoo on his back made of living tissue in the form of scales?

  The supernatural red light in Lørke’s eyes and his unbelievable endurance of electricity?

  The palpable animal something that seemed to radiate off every man in this town?

  She’d forced herself to ignore it all, to explain everything away as having been caused by a concussed brain, the stress of captivity, and logic. But here before her sat irrefutable scientific evidence. It was impossible to speed up the human body’s healing process, which meant that….

  This was real.

  Exhaling forcefully, she staggered backward a step, her gloved hands fisted at her sides. She met Dev’s eyes, liquid mercury in a bottle. Incredible. Impossible.

  Dev smiled, showing his…his…. “Yep, you got it now, don’t you?” he said. “Finally, Toni. Gotta be some kind of record.”

  “No.” She snapped off her latex gloves and threw them on the floor. “No!”

  She turned and fled.

  Chapter Thirty

  Jaċken almost turned to glare at Roth with a silent Just give her what she wants, you dumb shit. But he fought off the urge, keeping his eyes locked straight ahead, like a good little damned solider.

  A cold knot formed in his stomach, so tight it hurt. If Toni and Roth didn’t manage to smoke the fucking peace pipe together, then Jaċken would have to let Toni walk right back out of his life. Yeah, no prob. And while he was at it, he’d just barbecue his own heart for dinner. Jaċken turned his gaze to the pitcher of water and four glasses sitting in the middle of the conference table. Screw it. LEAVE, already. Whatever. The sight of Toni looking so damned beautiful was making him nuts, anyway.

  He shut his eyes briefly and inhaled a slow breath. Christ’s sake, it felt like someone had installed new hardware in his brain—and mis-wired it. His thinking was completely warped. One minute he was filled with an elation he’d never known at having Toni back, his blood practically skipping through his veins, and smelling her was…hell. Having her scent back in his head was such a profound comfort, it made him realize just how broken he’d been this past week. Just how much he needed her to make him feel like a whole person. The other side of his schizophrenic madness wanted to drop-kick her to the curb without delay. Because, thing was, he was under no delusions that if she returned to the community, at some point she’d pick a mate.

  Would it be Thomal of the Fine Ass? Most-fucking-likely. Or Dev the Schlong, as he’d heard the man called? Yeah, wouldn’t that be just jim dandy imagining those two bumping fuzzies every day.

  Roth’s long exhale jerked Jaċken back to the present.

  The leader of Ţărână scrubbed a hand over his face, his expression turning weary, exposing the fatigue Jaċken knew Roth had been feeling all week, if not longer.

  Normally, it was impossible to tell the age difference between Jaċken and Roth. Until a Vârcolac became an elder, he or she looked about the same at twenty-one as at one hundred and twenty-one. But at times like these, Roth showed his age. It was in his eyes, the look of a man who’d spent more than a hundred years watching his race die, the look of a man who had an entire species’ existence on his shoulders.

  “You may not believe this,” Roth said to Toni, “but we Vârcolac have always prided ourselves on being the good guys. I’ve hated that our desperate straits have led us away from that for a time.” He looked down at his hands for a long moment. “I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t bear everyone’s displeasure; I’m too tired.” He looked up. “I agree to your demands, Toni. No more kidnappings. And if that means our breed must die out, well….” He trailed off.

  Jaċken heard the husbands shift in their seats. A heavy pause pushed air out of the room.

  Toni’s expression softened, the color in her eyes deepening. “I don’t want the Vârcolac race to go extinct any more than you do, Roth. If you truly are the good guys, then I’d like to see you have the chance to show that, to be the proud, wonderful breed that you no doubt are. My brother and I have been tossing around a plan to get Dragon women down into Ţărână voluntarily.”

  The room sti
lled.

  “Can you…truly do that?” Roth asked in a quietly stunned tone.

  “I believe we can, yes, but it’s going to require a willingness on your part to get out of your comfort zone and loosen up on some security measures. To change,” Toni emphasized.

  Roth closed his eyes for a long second. “I’ve been insisting we keep to the old ways of being for too long, I realize that. Danger has followed us for so many years, we’ve already had to lose so much of ourselves because of the necessity of hiding. I’ve probably been holding onto our culture too tightly because of that.”

  “I would never ask you to give up your culture entirely.” Toni glanced wryly at the other Dragon women. “We know how frustrating it is when someone is forced to do that.”

  Roth pushed his lips together into a closed-mouth smile.

  “By the same token, Ţărână is a town of mixed cultures now, Roth, and the leadership there needs to reflect both sides if you want to have a successful and harmonious community. For one, the humans need democracy; they need representation. On the other hand, I also realize that your tradition permits only Vârcolac of royal lineage to hold positions of authority. That leaves me as the perfect answer. I can bring a human perspective to the table, yet my royal bloodlines will allow me to lead beside you without putting Vârcolac noses out of joint.”

  Jaċken snapped his brows together. What?

  Toni smiled. “As it turns out, I’m a Royal. So is my brother.”

  “But…how can that be?” Roth breathed.

  Toni looked at her brother. “Show them The Book, Alex.”

  Reaching into a duffle bag at his feet, Alex fished out a book with a crescent and star on the cover, then stood and leaned over the table, setting it in front of Roth.

  Dr. Jess gasped. “Good heavens! It’s the Străvechi Caiet!”

  Alex sat back down. “Hey, so you know it.”

  “Stars above, yes. This is the book of our history, both past and future.” Dr. Jess stared at Alex in awestruck wonder. “However did you get ahold of it?”