Blood Rite

by Sarah Black

  Even worse, Valentino was correct. I couldn’t walk out that door until I came to terms with killing. Sure, I made it a motto in a moment of complete weakness. Created by anger and grief that saturated my soul. A soul I’m not sure I believe exists.

  A soul that was drilled into my mind in Catholic grade school that only a fearful God could judge and forgive. Though now I know that God was truly meant to be feared. A being with the ability to curse a human to walk the earth. I don’t know if hell exists, but if I had to guess, this was it. Not some pit at the base of a volcano where demons lounged in their iron thrones with a spiked whip.

  Hell was the earth that we walked on. Why else would God curse those he saw as his children? It was a debate for another day, though my mind keeps replaying why a god created witches.

  Which leads me to the card burning a hole in my leather jacket. Clothed in my leather leggings, slinky tank, leather jacket, and boots, I sit as the sun begins to rise, a cooling coffee cup in my hand. The steam faded long ago with the last of the film of sleep that plagued my eyes.

  I couldn’t leave knowing Valentino was right, and I’d be foolish to. Perhaps Joe even knew that I’d sit tight for three days. Though it had only been fourteen hours since we arrived, my body itches to run away. To find Lazarus.

  Another problem. From what I’ve garnered, the supernatural world is run like the human mafia. Though I’ve yet to see an ounce of honor and loyalty, I would do well to remember those who are magical, those who wield magic, and those who are human and very separate entities with separate agendas, each strive to accomplish their own goals.

  House Abel of the vampires seems to have the most honor of them all so far, but Valentino keeps his cards close to his chest. Choosing to show me the vampire he truly is in spurts of personalities. I can’t tell what his endgame is, but I’m not buying that it has anything to truly do with a murder in his territory that he wasn’t aware of. Sure, it had something to do with that, but he’s using it as an excuse.

  House Cain and Lazarus, so far in my opinion, are liars. Not only did they fuck with me when we first met, but they shouldn’t even be in the northeast. He knew what I was from the get-go. I can’t hide the magical signature that wafts off me like a perfume. Any logical supernatural would be able to smell it, sense it. Hilda gifting me the coven card proved that much. But I’ll have to stick with the cover story of a water witch.

  No doubt House Abel knows I’m a witch at this point and no longer a human. Not that I ever was one. I’m sure Valentino guaranteed that they were misled after that night he took me in. I’m also betting that’s why we are in a warehouse and not at the church.

  I wouldn’t want to be there anyway.

  I can’t change what I am, so the only thing left is acceptance if I want to avenge my sister and find out who murdered our parents, and why. Is it any surprise that I ended up with a damn vampire? We are close, too close. His body is nourished by the blood he drinks, and mine is nourished by the power in blood.

  Perhaps we are one and the same, though I can use that power. I’m not sure he can. Yet without another blood witch, a vampire is my next best creature to help keep me in check. Even if said vampire allows me to kill another.

  I shake the thought away, that bastard deserved it for ripping my sister’s throat out. He deserved everything I dished out.

  I sip my cool coffee. My eyes lingering on the garage door. Poppy’s bug still sits in its spot, the keys dangling from the ignition. He left them there, that bastard, knowing I wouldn’t leave once I stopped to think about everything happening.

  Not that I don’t want to. I want to hop in that car and drive off.

  But I won’t.

  I get up, pacing around the space, unable to eat or drink anymore. How the hell did Joe think I’d be able to stay in one spot for three days?

  I miss my damn cat too. His little whiskered nose pressing against me. My Prince always coming to my rescue. The way he fought off those intruders still amazes me. He might not be a panther like Aja, but he holds the heart of a big cat.

  My boots tap in the concrete space as I keep pacing, my boredom growing exponentially. I know whenever Valentino returns, I’ll have to face him and myself before we hunt down Lazarus.

  His words also haunt me, that perhaps someone close to me is in on this scheme to kill the abomination that we apparently are. Is Piór even our real surname? Or was it just the name of the ones who adopted us? I make a mental note to look into that as soon as I can. No, I’ll ask Poppy the next time we ‘talk.’ Not that I want to know about our birth parents. I don’t.

  “Fuck.” I rub a hand down my face, cursing at myself for even entertaining the possibility of looking into our birth parents. That’s for Poppy. Not me. Never me.

  My hand strays to the locket, my grip tightening around the pictures of a pretend family. A fake family that never really existed.

  Finally, the door squeaks open, and I can’t even help myself as my head whips to where Valentino stands. He strides in like he owns the world, kicking the door shut with his foot.

  I stand in awe, unable to move, because in his hands is Prince. So many emotions drive into me like a sledgehammer.

  Surprise.

  Shock.

  Awe.

  Confusion.

  Compassion.

  Affection.

  Desire.

  “Your apartment has been cleared out.” There it is. Everything would have been perfect if he hadn’t opened his damn mouth. I would have worshipped him if he just hadn’t spoken.

  I can’t even find the words to voice how that one little sentence makes me feel, not even as he sets Prince on the ground. Who, by the way, flickers his tail, waving it around as he hold his little head high and struts around sniffing the place. Until his gaze catches on a mouse and he takes off.

  Still, one nice deed followed by a not so nice deed doesn’t balance it out. It’s like doing something good but being sneaky and malicious about it.

  He stalks toward me, his eyes level with mine and a hand held up to ward off my arguments. “I know what you’re going to say, hear me out.”

  “You have two seconds, Valentino.” How do I even find this man attractive? It must be carnal lust and nothing more. Just the need to satisfy an itch. An itch I can scratch with anyone, I’m sure. Yet I know it for the lie it is. Only he will satisfy what I want.

  Damn him for that.

  “Your apartment has been compromised.” He pulls something from his pocket, throwing it on the island.

  I don’t want to look, and I sure as hell don’t want to be swayed by whatever he just did. But I break eye contact even though he looks damn good in black cargo pants and a black t-shirt. Someone is preparing for some bullshit.

  I look away, my gaze landing on the little circular devices almost blending in with the granite.

  “Tell me who has access to your apartment, Penny.” I’m beginning to realize Valentino uses that tone of voice when he’s close to losing himself. A hint of an accent peeks out.

  An accent I hold onto. Because what I’m seeing surely can’t mean what I think it does. “What is that accent?”

  “A remnant of a past I’d rather forget.” No accent that time, just the quick drawl of a yankee.

  “Valentino, what is this?” I pick up a little metal disk, but I know what it is, and seeing it, feeling it in my hand, breaks a little piece of me.

  “You know damn well what it is, now answer the question.” I can feel the fury vibrating off of him.

  “Poppy. My landlord. I locked everything up.” Even though the doubt lurks in the back of my head. “Aja picked up Prince and took him there.” I spin around, the implication clear while the question is in my eyes—where did he get Prince?

  “Prince was at Aja’s,” he confirms, his eyes never wavering from mine as he stands as still as a statue. His body appears relaxed, but I know better. Under his sleek torso lies a viper just waiting to strike, and strike he will. />
  “How?” It never even occurred to me. Not once. Not when she said that she picked him up and took him to her house. It never occurred to me to question how. Too much had gone down.

  “She didn’t have access to your apartment?” Monotone, he hides his emotions now, but I can feel them vibrate off of him to slap me in the face over and over again while they repeat that I am nothing more than a fool.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing.” Except I know it’s something, because Poppy and I made a pact a long time ago that the only other person to have access to our apartments would be each other. “Poppy wrote it in her note. She probably helped her get in and pick up Prince.”

  “How do you know Aja, Penny?” He takes one step toward me, and it feels like all of the air is being sucked from the room. That’s his presence. His aura.

  Him.

  I lick my lips, going back scouring my brain for how I knew Aja before the event that destroyed our lives. Finally, it sparks. “Our mothers worked together.”

  He grinds his teeth, the sound disturbing. “Never once did you think to question that?”

  “Why would I?” My eyes search his as my mind slowly shuts down. There is no way that this entire situation revolves around Aja and her family. I don’t buy it. I won’t buy it.

  It would cut me deeper than any wound thus far.

  I heard once that bleeding isn’t even the deepest wound one can feel. That a scratch can heal. I’ve healed that and more, a freaking stab wound. But the wounds that never heal and fester for years are the ones to our souls. When trust breaks.

  A knife to the chest would hurt less than what he implies.

  “I need proof.”

  “Don’t be foolish, Penny. Angela Davis has run Davis Inc. for centuries. Always under the same name and only for supernaturals. She has never once had a human on her payroll.” He leans down to face me, his breath tickling my neck. “You mean to tell me that not once since you knew what her business was did you think about it?”

  My hand instinctively reaches for my necklace and the pictures that reside within. “No,” I whisper.

  Valentino sneers, walking off, his disgust written into every wrinkle he creates. His handsome face is marred by the monster lurking beneath the surface.

  My hand snaps out, gripping his sleeve. “Valentino, wait.” How can I speak though my heart breaks? Because you don’t really believe him, that’s how. “What if you’re wrong?” I need him to be wrong.

  “Your mother working for Angela changes everything, Penny. We need to know who your adoptive parents were.”

  I nod, knowing he’s right, but not wanting him to be. “Joe would know.” I blow out a breath, holding onto the tears that threaten to fall.

  I shall not cry.

  His gaze snaps back to mine, his eyes looking up and down, assessing. Judging. Wondering if I’m ready to leave the warehouse. I don’t know if I am. And all of his implications of last night war within me.

  “Stay here.” He yanks out of my grip, his boots clipping against the floor.

  Panic rises in me at being left alone. “If you leave, I’ll leave. There is nothing you can do to keep me here.”

  Like an elephant who can easily break its chains, I chose to stay only because Valentino told me to. But I don’t need to. I can leave anytime I want, and he knows it.

  “Then let’s go, kitten.” Still, he strides for the door, never once turning around to look at me.

  I stumble behind him, glad that I will no longer pace these floors, but at the same time curiosity spears me. “Where are we going?”

  He pauses at the doorway, his head tilted to the side as he puts on his sunglasses. The sharp line of his chin is highlighted by the sun, giving him an angelic look, though I know he’s anything but. “To create chaos.”

  28

  Valentino’s car idles out front. He never even turned it off, meaning he never expected to stay long. Just drop off Prince and leave once more. Why that bothers me, I’ll have to look into closely later, but for now it just isn’t going to happen. Because the deeper meaning that resides in that action makes my chest ache and my palms sweat.

  I slide in, closing the door with a soft snick. My gaze lingers on the warehouse beyond, the one where I opened myself up to the hidden witch inside. Turning back, I catch my eyes in the rearview mirror. Looking into them too long shows that witch, and right now I can’t think or dwell on who and what she is. Not yet.

  Something is about to happen. That ominous feeling that hangs over me like a cloud. Right now, it’s soft, white, and fluffy, but I cannot deny its existence. The fact that at any moment it could turn dark. And I have no doubt in my mind that it will. It will darken, and when it does nothing will be the same ever again.

  I just need to know if I can live with that. Because when things change, we either go with the flow or drag our heels in the sand. I’ve dealt with that hand before and I didn’t do well.

  Valentino settles beside me, his door barely shut before he takes off while his power radiates off of him in waves.

  “Where are we going?” I click my seatbelt into place as he takes a turn dangerously.

  “I haven’t decided yet,” he growls out, his thumb tapping the steering wheel and creating a drumbeat in the silent car. “I want to drive to Aja’s and demand they explain themselves. But shifters don’t play by anyone else’s rules.”

  “Know what?” I laugh, the sound snarky and dark. “None of those in the supernatural community play by anyone’s rules but their own. They don’t care who they hurt in the process. They just act selfishly. It’s a dirty and dark world.” And I don’t know if I want anything to do with it. I leave that unspoken, but my tone gives it away.

  “You’d do well to remember that, kitten.”

  “Why do you call me kitten? I’m no shifter,” I point out wearily, as south Philly screams past outside our quiet sedan.

  I can feel his gaze on me as we travel. “Because when I met you, you were nothing but a scared kitten. Denying her very nature. A kitten pretending to be a mouse. That’s who you were. Now you know you are a kitten, but yet you still deny what you are capable of.”

  “Because I don’t want to die, Valentino. I want to live. And if anyone knows what I really am, then I will burn at the stake.” My hands flutter about me as my words slam into him. Each one causing his sneer to deepen. I can’t change his judgment, not right now. Because my feelings exist, and they are what they are.

  “You will die if you don’t use them.”

  “Then everyone will know.”

  “So be it.”

  “Valentino.”

  “Why don’t you trust me to protect you? I have all the resources at my disposal. You had no idea that a dozen of my vampires surrounded the warehouse last night so you could toss and turn in your sleep. To keep you alive and protected.”

  “They don’t know they are protecting a monster!” I shout at him.

  “We are all monsters in this world, Penny. This isn’t a fairy tale where the good guy always wins. More often than not, the villain wins by killing the hero. The prince.” He spits the word, venom lacing it, making my heart pound in reaction. “Trust not a single person you meet, because they will always look for a way to exploit you. To use you for their gain.”

  “What of you?” My voice, hoarse and smoky from yelling, turns to a whisper as I wait on his words. Needing him to need me and want me for me. But isn’t that still using me? Wanting me for me. all of me, makes no difference if he can use me in the process. Even if he wants me.

  “Even me, kitten.” His knuckles grip the steering wheel as he glances toward me. “Especially me.”

  My heart sinks. I knew his answer before he spoke the words—unapologetic and ones I’ll never be able to erase from my mind. “Where are we going?” I return back to the topic at hand.

  “My vampires are scouring the city for Lazarus. I have some of them watching Davis Inc. Others watching their house.” His palm strikes t
he steering wheel, causing it to groan. “They are gone, Penny, all of them. Just. Gone.”

  I close my eyes against his words as I struggle to push the meaning down into a hole where I can bury it with my broken heart later.

  You have Poppy, a voice whispers to me. One that isn’t wrong. Because she is all I have left. Her and Joe are the only true constants in my world. Ones I know that wouldn’t lie to me or break me. Even if some of their small lies were made to keep me safe. To protect me.

  I shall not cry.

  Valentino swings the car into the fifth district precinct. I stuff down the smile that dares to rise, knowing he chose to go to Joe first before running off on a manhunt and killing everyone who gets in his way.

  He slams on the brakes after pulling into a parking spot before climbing out and shutting the door with a hard slam. In the next breath, he’s at my door, opening it, his eyes scanning the area for threats. Once satisfied, he reaches for my hand.

  “Don’t look too far into it.”

  “I won’t.” Because I already have.

  He shields my body, keeping me close to his side as he opens the doors. Inside, we’re met with one door and a reception desk hidden behind bulletproof glass. Old wood paneling lines the walls, held on with superglue and hope. The glass holds smudges of handprints on either side and looks frostier than it should from dirt and grime.

  Yet the overly teased hair and red-rimmed glasses that peek through make me smile.

  “Penny!” She lifts the little window, shrinking down to speak through, her cherry red lipstick smudged, and when she smiles her teeth don’t fare any better.

  “Loise.” I smile back with warmth. Poppy and I spent many days here driving everyone insane with our antics. Playing hide and seek under the desks, leaving little sticky notes of encouragement on the walls and bathroom mirrors. This place felt more like home than Aja’s house.

  I’m starting to wonder at the implications of that.

  “Go on through! He’s at his desk. Careful now, he’s in a cranky mood.” She buzzes us through, and I take her warning to heart.