The Judah Black Novels Box Set

by E. A. Copen

  The curtain on her front window moved aside, and she pulled open the door, a hand pressed flat to her brow to block out the sun. Despite the heat, she wore a floral print blouse and a dark blue cardigan. “Oh, thank my lucky stars. I thought I’d scared you off earlier.”

  I wasn’t eager to take up our earlier conversation again, so I redirected it as I approached her trailer. “Do you have the time?”

  Patsy rested her wrist against her hip. “Don’t you have a clock in your car?”

  “Not in my car. Display’s busted.”

  She gave a huff and stepped back. I took the opportunity to slide in and shut the door behind me. “It’s after four,” Patsy informed me. “If you want to look halfway decent, we’re going to have to take a few shortcuts.”

  “I hate dressing up,” I growled at her as she went to retrieve the sparkly red dress from where she’d left it on the chair. “Maybe I’ll just stick to my t-shirt and jeans.”

  Patsy pressed her pale lips together and shook her head emphatically. “It wouldn’t please Master Kelley, and you don’t want to displease the Master.” She held the dress out to me.

  I took it and frowned at it. “Why does everyone call him that?”

  “Because he is lord and master over all vampires in the area.” Patsy shrugged. “And because he prefers it. Titles like that have been used for centuries, since before we were civilized.” She put an arm behind me and gestured down the hall. “You can change in my room, dear. I’ll see if I have some makeup for you.”

  Patsy’s bedroom was small, decorated in eclectic Americana. A giant white star hung over a headboard of unfinished wood. A striped yellow cat with white mittens looked up at me from his spot on the bed and watched with disinterest as I peeled the day-old clothes off my body and frowned at myself in Patsy’s full-length mirror.

  I try not to be too vain or care too much about my looks. I’m a thirty-something single mom, and I spend my days chasing supernatural criminals. With a life that busy, who has time for hairdressers and manicures? But I looked even worse than normal. Since coming to Paint Rock, I’d put on five pounds thanks to sitting behind the desk too much and Sal’s cooking, and it showed. If only I was one of those girls who carried all her weight in the chest instead of the ass. I wasn’t sure the dress would fit if it was small in the hips.

  Patsy knocked on the door. “Is everything all right, dear?”

  “Fine,” I shouted back and grabbed the dress to shimmy in.

  Inside, I secretly prayed it would be too tight, and I’d have to tell Patsy I couldn’t wear it. Marcus had told me to dress nicely. Maybe a rumpled t-shirt and jeans weren’t nice, but she probably had a pair of dress slacks somewhere I could borrow instead, or at least a long skirt. No dice. The dress fit like a charm, even if it left my bra straps showing. Luckily, I don’t have the mixed blessing of being a well-endowed woman, so taking off the bra cleared up the problem.

  I wadded my clothes into a ball along with my tennis shoes and opened the door to find Patsy waiting. Her eyes traveled down, scrutinizing, before she held out a pair of matching red slingback high heels.

  “I don’t think—”

  Patsy broke in and shoved the shoes at me. “Nonsense, dear. You could use the height.”

  I was ready to protest further when someone knocked on the door. Patsy jumped and grabbed me by the arm. “Oh, dear. We’ve been too long. Hurry, go back in and do something with your hair. There’s a ruby necklace in my jewelry box. Take it. You need something to break up all that pale skin.”

  “Pale?” I said in protest, but Patsy shoved me back into the bedroom and shut the door. I stood behind the closed door and thought to myself, You know you don’t get enough sun if a vampire calls you pale.

  An unfamiliar male voice spoke in hushed tones as soon as Patsy opened the door and she responded loudly, welcoming him inside. Not Marcus, then. I would have recognized his voice. Probably his driver.

  One of the reasons I don’t worry about doing up my hair is because it never listens to me. Even though I’d combed it out earlier, it had worked itself back into a giant rat’s nest on the back of my head. I pulled the brush out of my pocket and ripped through it, pulling more out than I straightened. Once I deemed it good enough, I put a quick braid in and wound it into a tight bun. Patsy’s jewelry box also had some bobby pins, which helped. I didn’t see the ruby necklace and thought about not bothering. This was a business meeting, not a date, and I couldn’t care less about impressing Marcus. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted anything around my neck to draw his attention. I closed the box without searching for any more jewelry and slid into the shoes. They were a little big for me, which made walking more difficult. I practiced walking from one end of the room to the other, crossing twice before I was sure I wouldn’t fall on my face.

  Patsy knocked on the door again. This time, she didn’t wait for me to answer before she opened it and poked her head inside.

  “I’m ready,” I announced.

  She opened the door and stepped in, frowning at me as I passed.

  I was in the hallway before I realized I’d been completely wrong about the driver. Marcus stood in the living room wearing a suit of charcoal grey, hands in his pockets. He seemed to be examining something on the wall before I came out but quickly abandoned it to look at me. A smug but slight smile touched the corners of his mouth, and he narrowed his eyes. “Ah, so there is a fine-looking woman under all of that. I thought she might be in there somewhere.”

  My face flushed, and I wished I’d never agreed to go to dinner with Marcus. I almost turned around and went back to hide in the bedroom, but Patsy touched her fingers lightly to my forearm and said, “Yes, she does clean up nicely, doesn’t she?”

  I saw that she was beaming ear to ear and realized there was a reason she’d insisted on the dress, the shoes, and the jewelry, and it had nothing to do with me. This was Patsy’s opportunity to win favor with Marcus, to do something to impress him. I was a prize dog in a dog show that she’d groomed and polished to make the judges sit up and take notice. I closed my hand over hers and clasped. It wasn’t meant to be a friendly gesture. I squeezed tight enough that I felt her try to pull away, but I didn’t let go until Marcus held his hand out to me.

  “Well done, Patsy,” he said.

  He might as well have asked her to marry him, as excited as she got. Her eyes widened, as did her smile—which, up until that moment, I would have believed was impossible. “Yes, Master,” Patsy answered with a husky tremble in her voice.

  Genuinely creeped out, I let go of her. Marcus waited patiently and left his hand outstretched, but I knew better than to fall into that trap. I reached for the doorknob instead and opened the door. “Age before beauty, then.”

  He lowered his hand and tilted his head as if to acknowledge me, but his smug grin didn’t disappear. One point for me, then. I was right, and this was about more than just me asking a favor of him. The extended hand had been a power play, and I had the sneaking suspicion he meant to ensnare me, or at least play mind games with me. I’d have to be on my toes all night if I wanted to get access to his house and escape unharmed.

  I learned two important things about Marcus Kelley before we ever pulled out of Patsy’s drive. The first was that he drove a white Range Rover Sport with a red leather interior, which he kept pristine. There wasn’t a spot on it, not even on the windshield. More importantly, he actually drove it. The first time I’d been in a car with him, he let a driver haul him around in typical rich-guy fashion. Who needs a driver’s license when you can have a chauffeur, right? Apparently, Marcus wasn’t like that all the time. Maybe he was more like a politician than a CEO, having a separate public and private way of doing things.

  The second thing I learned about Marcus was that he liked blues rock. The smooth sound of it filled the car as soon as he turned the key, and he reached over to turn it down but not off.

  You can tell a lot about a person from the music they listen to. I
hadn’t pegged Marcus as a blues guy, just like I hadn’t thought he’d drive himself around. Maybe there were other things I had wrong.

  “I hope you like sushi,” he said as he buckled in. “My personal assistant has a thing for it. Isn’t that right, Cynthia?”

  For the first time, I glanced into the back and saw a woman sitting behind me. She was a delicate-looking lady with a sharp chin and bright, intelligent eyes in a sky-blue blazer and skirt. She sighed, moved one arm into her lap, and adjusted her glasses. “I can change it if you’d like, of course.”

  Marcus looked at me, and I realized he was waiting for my approval. Sushi wasn’t really my thing. To be honest, I didn’t care where we went as long as I got out of that dress as soon as possible.

  “Sure,” I said, raising my shoulders in a shrug. “Why not?”

  We pulled out of Patsy’s cul-de-sac and began our crawl through Paint Rock in silence. I studied Cynthia in the mirror. She had a forgettable face, one of those corporate secretary types that often faded into the background. She was too flawless. The more I tried to concentrate on her and find something to remember about her, the less I remembered.

  “So,” Marcus said, seizing my attention, “I suppose we should clear the air.”

  I crossed my arms. “There is absolutely nothing you can say that’s going to make me trust you.”

  “You misunderstand. I’m not asking you to trust me, even though I have already done more for you than you know.”

  “Are we talking about the bribery you tried when I first came to town? Or how about your blatant threats against my family and me?” I studied Marcus’ chiseled features, but they didn’t shift. “Or maybe that you stole Andre LeDuc’s research and that quack, Doctor Han, is probably using it to do some really unethical stuff?”

  Marcus smiled at that, and then belted out a laugh but said nothing.

  “You couldn’t sway me with money. You won’t sway me with a smile, Marcus. I know what you are. You’re a criminal. Just because our goals align this one time doesn’t mean we’re pals.”

  “The bribery was my darling daughter’s idea. She and her partner have interesting ideas about people.” He turned his head to grin at me. “But I knew before you even came here that money wouldn’t speak to you. The talk in the car yesterday was very much a performance. Threatening you will only make you buckle down harder.”

  I set my jaw and stared forward, sinking further into the comfortable seat. Dammit, why did it have to be comfortable? I secretly wished someone would key his stupid car.

  “Handle you like a cop, you act like a criminal. Treat you like a man, you respond like a woman. You are an interesting person. But truth you value, so here is my offer for the night.”

  We stopped at the border of the reservation, and Marcus waved to the border patrol officer, who gestured for him to keep going. They didn’t even ask him for ID.

  Once we were on the highway and pointed toward Eden, he continued, “I will answer any three questions of your choosing, and I will answer them with complete truths. In return, you will agree to do the same. If you lie, or if I do, the game will be over. I agree to send you on your way unhurt. However, if the night becomes such that we complete our little game, I will answer the question that’s been making those wheels turn in your head since last night.”

  I uncrossed my arms and looked at him. His amused smile had faded, replaced by an arrogant smirk. “Oh? And what’s that?”

  “I will tell you what the Kings do for me.” He glanced my way to gauge my reaction. It must have been exactly what he was expecting because he quickly turned his eyes back to the road. “What do you say? Do you agree?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “And if I play your stupid game and you answer my questions, I still get to walk away, right?”

  “Of course,” Marcus answered. “As long as you keep up your end of the bargain we struck yesterday, you’re quite safe. Remember why you’re here in the first place, Judah. Don’t get distracted by a pretty face, whether it’s mine or someone else’s.”

  “You think very highly of yourself.”

  Marcus gave a velvety chuckle that made my heart flutter and the hair on my arms stand up straight. “I’ve earned the right to be a little conceited.”

  I thought for a minute longer. “How will I know if you’re lying?”

  “That’s the interesting part,” Marcus mused. His eyelids were half-closed as if he were fighting falling asleep at the wheel, but I very much doubted that was the case. He seemed to be enjoying himself more than anything. “You know that blood is sacred to my kind. As a practitioner of the arts of magick, you’re aware of its binding power, I presume, and so I posit this. For the terms of this game, you and I shall enter into a sworn blood oath, with Cynthia as our witness.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that at all, although I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. It was true that once we were bound, he couldn’t lie to me or I to him without the other one knowing, but I didn’t know the full ramifications of even a limited connection with a vampire like Marcus. I also fully expected him to exploit such a connection to his full advantage however he chose. Sal and Chanter had both been stonewalling me, and a little girl’s life was at stake. If I backed out now, I could miss out on crucial information, and not just in my effort to decide what to do about Sal. Mia could die. I had let someone else take responsibility for what happened to her for too long. Whatever the consequences were, they couldn’t be as bad as letting Mia slowly fade away.

  “As long as the effect is temporary,” I said, then changed my mind. “A limited bond. One that begins and ends tonight.”

  Marcus smiled. “I agree to your terms.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The car slowed in front of an iron gate at the mouth of a private drive going into a rocky canyon. A guard leaned out of the gatehouse, a radio in his hand. The gate opened, and the car cruised forward at a snail’s pace. Peeking up, I expected to see armed guards patrolling the walls as I’d seen at his daughter’s house. I didn’t see so much as the red light of a camera. The canyon walls stretched up and butted against the sky, sheer black against star-speckled black. Low lights illuminated the front of a white mansion with palm trees stacked out front. The main house stood in the center of a collection of buildings connected via wooden walkways, awnings, and arched corridors.

  It was meant to look welcoming. All I saw was how defensible the place was from attack. He didn’t need Kim’s security. The place had only one way in and one way out, with plenty of sniper perches.

  “I thought you had reservations,” I said, leaning forward for a better look.

  “I do, of sorts,” Marcus answered. “There was a prominent sushi chef turned in Honolulu last month. His mental state is such that his master was unable to keep him controlled and fed. I offered to take him on. He’s quite talented. However, I suspect his control is still very limited and soon, I’ll have to make a decision.”

  “What kind of decision?” I asked, even though I thought I already knew. Turned vampires didn’t always adjust well to the change. BSI had put down plenty of crazy ones, but there seemed to be fewer and fewer of those as the government tightened regulations on who could and couldn’t be turned. There was more paperwork required to become a vampire than there was to immigrate into the United States, and there’s a lot of paperwork for that.

  “I expect I’ll have to kill him.” He glanced at me and gave a half-smile. “And I won’t count that question against you.”

  The way he said it made it sound like he was being lenient. We hadn’t yet entered our pact formally, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t start counting my questions. It just meant he could lie to me, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I closed my mouth and decided not to ask any more questions until after the blood oath, even though his answer created more questions.

  Normally, crazy vampires were supposed to be handed over to BSI for processing. The agency often looked the other way, however, if t
he head vampire decided to handle it personally. Marcus had said this sushi chef had been turned in Honolulu, too far for Marcus to have any real influence. It should have been the turned vampire’s master that dealt the killing blow and not a stranger like Marcus.

  “Vampires all over seem to afford you such liberties,” I said. I’d been careful not to phrase it as a question, more of an open-ended observation.

  Marcus pulled the Rover up in front of the house and put it in park but didn’t get out. He turned his intense, green eyes on me and smiled, pleased when I averted my gaze. “Come now, Judah. You’re familiar enough with vampire hierarchy to have formed a theory. BSI teaches a course on that in the first year at the academy.”

  I did, but that didn’t mean I was right. I’d long suspected Marcus might be making a grab at power. In Europe and Asia, vampire clans like the Stryx and Upyri ran things. They were very old, very powerful families, families that every other family of vampires reported to and worked for. A newly formed vampire in Madrid, for example, belonged to the Stryx by virtue of being turned on Stryx territory. He would be obligated to serve his creator first, coven leader second, and then the Stryx family. Everyone answered to the guy in charge of the Stryx, Alto Continelli. I’d run into Alto’s eldest son, Crux, not that long ago. If the rest of his family was as disgusting and underhanded as Crux had been, I wouldn’t want them in charge of anything.

  A federal mandate prevented the formation of new vampire clans on U.S. soil. One of my jobs as a BSI agent was to prevent that from happening. I thought maybe Marcus had been setting himself up as a regional leader. If he meant to form a clan, that had even bigger implications. One of the reasons the supernaturals hadn’t ever managed any kind of revolt or political action was because BSI intentionally kept them from organizing in large groups. A full-blown clan could create even more tension between supernaturals and humans on both the local and national stage, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. All I had were suspicions. Marcus had built himself up to be a pillar of the community and kept his nose clean on paper. I couldn’t stop him from whatever he was planning.