Blood Law

by Jeannie Holmes

  “They’re morally corrupting our youth!”

  “Who is?” she asked.

  “Vampires! Especially that Sabian vamp.”

  “You mean Enforcer Sabian?”

  “No, the other one.” He waved away her question. “Whatever its name is.”

  “Stephen Sabian?”

  “That’s the one. I, along with some of my flock, were over there this morning—”

  “I heard, and I thought I told you to stay away from the bar.”

  He fixed her with a disapproving look. “I go where the Lord leads, Tasha. Those vamps are pushing drugs, and not just Midnight. Now I, and a lot of other folks around here, want to know what you’re doing about it.”

  “We’ve been over this before, Tubby. Crimson Swan is a legal business with all its permits and paperwork in order. There is no evidence of drug activity. Stephen Sabian—”

  “The Sabians are evil—the devil incarnate.” He struggled to his feet. “Both of ’em!”

  Tasha pinched the bridge of her nose in a dual effort to block the overpowering smell of his cologne and to stave off a building headache.

  Tubby and others had brought repeated proposals before the Jefferson town council to have the bar’s license revoked, and they were voted down every time. In the past few months, Tubby had turned his attention to her, trying to convince her that Crimson Swan was involved in illegal activity. Even if Stephen was involved in something, which she doubted, it wasn’t her jurisdiction. All vampire-related crimes were Alex’s exclusive territory.

  “Do you have any evidence that Stephen or anyone at Crimson Swan is doing something illegal?”

  “They’re vampires! What more evidence do you need?”

  “Something that’ll hold up in court and isn’t simply your prejudicial judgment.”

  “Prejudicial—” His jowls trembled. “How am I supposed to get evidence if I can’t go there? Isn’t that your job, anyway?”

  “Crimes, or potential crimes, involving vampires are Enforcer Sabian’s territory, not mine. You know that.”

  “Which makes it the perfect setup for that brother of hers to deal drugs willy-nilly out the back door!”

  “And you’re accusing a federal officer of misconduct and a major cover-up, neither of which I can do anything about without solid evidence!”

  Tubby huffed and whirled away only to turn back a moment later. “Why do you work with that vamp? I thought you were scared of vampires.”

  “I am,” she answered quietly.

  “Then why—”

  “Because, unlike some people, I choose to face my fears. Familiarity alleviates fear.”

  “It also breeds contempt.” He sat down again. “Tell me, Tasha, how much respect do you think those vamps really have for you, for any of us? Why, just look at what happened today at Maggie’s Place.”

  “What makes you think vampires had any role in that shooting?”

  “Look at the victims, Tasha. All of the dead are humans; so are a majority of the wounded. Only vamp injured was Sabian.”

  “Maggie’s Place is predominantly a human establishment. Very few vampires even go there. Alex was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Or maybe she was there as a shill,” Tubby said. “Maybe she was the convenient token vamp present so as to cast doubt on the rest of them.”

  Tasha gawked at him. “Will you listen to yourself? You sound like some kind of paranoid whack-job who’s one step away from stockpiling weapons and army rations because of an imagined impending apocalypse!”

  “The apocalypse is coming, Tasha. Mark my words. For them, humans are nothing more than forbidden fruit waiting to be plucked.”

  “They have a right to survive.”

  “Do they?” Tubby placed his fleshy hands flatly on the table and leaned forward. Another wave of cologne beat against her. “You’d kill a mosquito that landed on your arm. How are vampires any different?”

  Tasha glared at him, remembering the way Alex had looked at her while at the Stromheimer scene the previous night. It was the same way a half-starved man would look at a hamburger.

  “The Lord liveth, Lieutenant, and the Lord shall smite them,” Tubby murmured.

  She stood to cover the shudder than ran down her spine. “Is that a threat?”

  “No, merely paraphrasing the Good Book. Judgment Day is coming, Tasha, for us as well as the vampires. Where are you going to stand when that day comes?”

  “I think it’s time for me to leave, Reverend.”

  “As you wish, but I hope you’ll at least consider what I’ve said.”

  “I’ll take it under advisement.”

  “Would you care to stay for our weekly prayer service tonight?”

  “No, thank you. I have to get back to the office.” She gathered her jacket and purse.

  “I understand,” Tubby responded. “The Holy Word Church doors are always open if you ever need to talk, Tasha.”

  “Don’t hold your breath on that,” she muttered.

  “We’ll be praying for you.”

  Tasha left the kitchen without acknowledging his final comment and entered the sanctuary, where several members of the church had started gathering. Their conversation stopped, and they watched her with guarded eyes as she passed through the large room. She couldn’t help but compare their looks to those she’d received while at Crimson Swan. She was the outsider in both places, and it made her skin crawl.

  Even though she thought some of Tubby’s concerns were valid and knew that he sometimes took liberties with the boundaries of their tenuous friendship, she couldn’t drop everything in order to investigate his latest allegations.

  Outside, she hurried down the steps, head down and jingling her keys, anxious to be away. She rounded the side of the porch and was taken aback when she bumped into a warm body.

  “Excuse me,” she and the man she’d nearly run over apologized simultaneously. Tasha jerked back in surprise. “Darryl?”

  Darryl Black, formerly of the Jefferson PD and who now worked with the Nassau County Sheriff’s Department, smiled lazily. His dark hair was shaggier than she’d remembered it, and fine lines creased the edges of his hazel eyes. “Evening, Lieutenant.”

  Tasha returned his smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Is Harvey treating you decently?”

  “Can’t complain. I’ve been mostly working the night shift, but it suits me fine. It’s better than sitting at home.”

  She nodded in agreement. “What brings you out here?”

  He bobbed his head toward the church. “Prayer meeting tonight.”

  “I didn’t know you attended Holy Word.”

  “I don’t; well, not officially. I just come to the prayer meetings occasionally.” He focused on her once more. “And you?”

  “Tubby and some others were at Crimson Swan this morning. I was just following up on a few things.”

  “Is he spouting more of his conspiracy theories?”

  Tasha rolled her eyes. “Lord, yes, and wearing too much cologne again. I swear the fumes must be rotting his brain or something. Now he’s accusing Alex of both corruption and of covering up the fact that Stephen’s a Midnight dealer.”

  Darryl chuckled. “Don’t let him get to you. He means well, but—”

  “But he can worry the horns off a goat,” Tasha supplied. She patted his arm. “Listen, it’s been great seeing you, but I have to run.”

  “Yeah, I should get inside before Tubby eats all the Oreos.”

  Gravel crunched beneath her feet as she strode across the makeshift parking lot. Darryl had been one of the finest cops in the JPD until he found a pink slip included with his last paycheck, a casualty of the latest round of citywide budget cuts. At least he’d found a niche within the sheriff’s department and seemed happy with the move.

  She was on Sawyer Mill Road and had just entered the Jefferson city limits when the call came across the radio of an officer down at the impound lot. She flipped the sw
itches to activate her lights and siren, leaving thoughts of Darryl Black and Tubby Jordan in her wake as she sped through the darkening twilight.

  nine

  “ALEX!” VARIK GRABBED HER SHOULDERS AND PULLED her out of Lipscomb’s trunk. He eased her down onto the garage’s smooth concrete floor.

  Technicians stopped their work and rushed forward. He held his hand up to ward them off. “Stand back.”

  They stopped a few feet away, their eyes and mouths gone wide. His gaze flicked to his bloody hand.

  “Shit,” he hissed, and began checking Alex for visible wounds. Her amber eyes were open and staring, but she wasn’t breathing. Her skin was cool and growing colder. His hands passed over her chest and stopped. “Oh, no. No, no, no.” He gripped the collar of her sweater and ripped it open.

  Blood welled between her breasts and pooled in the hollow of her neck before spilling over her shoulder and onto the floor.

  “Jesus,” one of the techs whispered. “Looks like she was shot.”

  “Come on, baby. Don’t do this to me.” Varik found her pulsing heartbeat, but it was thin, weak. “Damn it.” He looked up at the techs. “Call an ambulance! Now!”

  He didn’t wait to see who responded but laid Alex flat and began CPR. His hands compressed her chest for a five-count, and then he blew into her mouth, trying to encourage her to breathe. “You’re not going to die on me. Not like this,” he mumbled, doing another five-count of chest compressions.

  Tony knelt beside him. “I didn’t hear a shot. What the hell happened?”

  “It’s a psychic wound. She’s reliving Lipscomb’s death.”

  “Holy fuck. What can we do?”

  Varik checked Alex’s pulse. It was still there but weaker. She was fading. “Goddamn it.” He snapped the gloves off his hands. “You are not doing this to me. I won’t let you.”

  “Whoa!” Tony grabbed Varik’s arm as he raised it and opened his mouth, flashing his fangs. “What are you doing?”

  “Saving her life,” Varik snarled, jerking his arm free. “She’ll die just like Lipscomb if I don’t do this.”

  “There has to be another way. What if I—”

  “You’re human. It won’t work.”

  “The hospital can—”

  “They can’t deal with this! Alex needs a connection to this physical plane.”

  Tony chewed his bottom lip, staring at Alex.

  “I’m the only chance she’s got,” Varik whispered.

  Tony stood and stepped back, mumbling, “Lieutenant Lockwood’s going to have my ass for this.”

  Varik bit into the soft flesh of his wrist. His fangs pierced the skin and muscle beneath, puncturing the veins. He ignored the pain as the warm flow of blood filled his mouth. Gently cradling Alex in his arms, he held his bleeding wrist to her mouth as if offering a bottle to an infant. “Drink, baby. Come back to me.”

  Alex felt nothing. Darkness blinded her. Silence deafened her. Then she was floating.

  She looked down and saw Varik giving someone CPR. Blood stained the woman’s chest and the floor beneath her. His movement seemed agonizingly slow, as if he were working underwater. She watched with curious detachment until she realized she was the woman. “What the fuck?”

  Looking around, everything in the garage wavered as if she was viewing it through heat waves rising from sunbaked asphalt. Colors were muted, pale shadows of themselves. She saw Tony as he rounded the side of the car and could see his mouth moving as he talked to Varik but heard no words.

  A chime drew her attention, and she was no longer floating but standing. The chime sounded like distant crystal bells and filled her with a sense of peace. Something wasn’t right. How could she be standing beside Varik and lying on the ground at the same time?

  The chime sounded again, urging her to seek it. She felt weightless. Her feet rose from the floor, and she drifted over the car, leaving Varik behind, searching for the source of the crystalline bells. She landed in front of the car and heard the chime again. This time it was louder, behind her. She turned.

  A man leaned against the trash-filled table. His casual stance seemed ill matched with the formality of the dark suit he wore.

  “Daddy?”

  “Hey, Princess.” Bernard Sabian’s deep voice still carried the Irish lilt that had never given way to the Kentucky drawl she and Stephen possessed. “It’s been a while.”

  Alex nodded, unable to speak.

  A smile showing perfect human teeth brightened his pale face.

  “Is this real?” she asked, looking around.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Where are we?”

  “Beyond the Veil that separates the physical world from the spirit realm. This”—he gestured to the surrounding room—“is sort of a no-man’s-land in between the two planes, the Shadowlands. Anyone from either side can enter it, if they know the way and have good reason to do so.”

  “And you have a reason?”

  He nodded. “I came for you.”

  Her throat contracted painfully, choking her.

  The edges of his form shimmered as he closed the distance between them.

  “I miss you.” She forced out the strangled words.

  He stopped and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I know, Princess. I miss you, too.”

  She sobbed and moved into his open arms. The pain of decades of separation left her as they embraced.

  He stroked her hair and held her close. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “I’m dead. We have plenty of time.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “What do you mean?” Alex pulled away enough so that she could look up into his face. His dark green eyes, so very much like her own, stared down at her. The sorrow she found within them frightened her. “Daddy, what’s—”

  He gripped her elbows and moved her to arm’s length. “This isn’t your time. You’re not meant to die like this.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “In a few minutes, you’re going to be back in your physical body, but I have to tell you something first. I need you to listen to me very carefully. Okay?”

  Alex nodded.

  “You have to step down from this investigation.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I can’t tell you that. I can only tell you that no good will come from your continuing. I never meant for you to walk the path of shadows, as I did.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that I don’t want to see you hurt, which is precisely what will happen if you continue.”

  “I’m not stepping down.” Anger replaced the joy she’d felt at seeing her father. “How could you even ask me to do that?”

  “Princess, you have to—”

  “No.” She pulled away from him. “I became an Enforcer to stop murders like these—like yours—from happening.”

  “You don’t understand—”

  “Then explain it to me.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Alexandra, please—”

  The edges of her father’s form wavered, and Alex felt heavy, as though a massive weight had been dropped on her shoulders. She looked around the garage. Colors were brighter, richer, and objects seemed more solid. “What’s happening?”

  “I can’t hold you here any longer. You’re transitioning back to your physical body.”

  “Alex.” Varik’s voice drifted up from the back of the car. “Come on, baby. Come back to me.”

  “No! I don’t want to go back,” she cried.

  “You have to, Princess.” Her father began to fade. “This isn’t the place for you. You’re not ready.”

  “Daddy!” She reached for him, and her fingers slipped through his hands. “What aren’t I ready for?”

  “That’s it. Come back.” Varik’s voice grew louder.

  “Daddy! Don’t leave me again!”

  “I love you, Princess.” Her father’s voice
was little more than a hushed whisper as he faded from view.

  She stared at the empty air where he’d vanished. He was gone. Again. Silence enveloped her, and the world melted around her, plunging her into shadows. She spun out of control through darkness until she slammed into something hard.

  The bubble of silence collapsed, and sound rushed in with a cacophony of sirens. Lights danced before her eyes in a confusing ballet. Panic clawed at her. Voices surrounded her, menacing in their foreignness. But one voice cut through the confusion.

  “That’s it. Come back to me, baby,” the voice whispered in her ear.

  The salty metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and she swallowed. Brief flashes of memory sparked through her mind: A woman with black hair pulled into a tight bun leaned forward and kissed her cheek. A door crashed open, kicked off its hinges. A shotgun aimed at a fleeing figure. The recoil of the blast knocked her back.

  She returned to the present to find movement all around her. Voices spoke in a language she couldn’t understand. The sour stench of fear mingled with the coppery smell of blood.

  Blood. That she understood, and it excited her. All coherent thought fled before a tide of primal instinct.

  The source of the blood—her prey—tried to pull away. She gripped it tightly, refusing to let it go.

  “That’s enough,” the voice whispered.

  She smelled sandalwood and cinnamon. Vampire. A male, and he wanted what was rightfully hers. He couldn’t have it. It was hers. She’d make it hers. A warning growl rumbled deep in her throat, and she shook her head. Her teeth dug into fleshy tissue, tearing it. More blood flowed into her mouth in a warm rush.

  “Enough!” The prey jerked free.

  Alex bolted forward, snarling, and pushed her prey to the floor. She straddled it and plunged her fangs into the soft tissue of its neck. Blood, sweet and hot, pumped into her mouth. The sharp tang of fear mingled with sandalwood and cinnamon, and she moaned in pleasure, reveling in the heady scent.

  Hands gripped her shoulders, her sides, trying to pull her away. Indistinct shouts faded into the background, replaced by two rapid heartbeats.