Blood and Sand
Page 2
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“You didn’t drink, Father.”
He turned and smiled, patting her cheek and taking his handkerchief from his pocket to dab at a spot of blood on her chin. “I’m not hungry for blood tonight, mi querida. Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Sí, Papá. Gracias.”
“Good. Now that you’ve had your fill…” Ernesto finished tending to his child, then his eyes grew cold as he turned to the foggy night. “Find the human, Paula. And bring him to me.”
CHAPTER ONE
San Diego, 2013
The lights of the club pulsed red and gold as he swirled the ice in the glass in front of him. The frozen water turned and twisted, spinning the liquid in his glass into a small whirlpool that splashed over the edge of the cut crystal. His amnis caught the drops that fell to the table and quickly slid them back in the glass, leaving the polished wood unmarked. The music, the abysmally loud techno and pop that the patrons preferred, flowed around him as he sat in the black leather booth, watching.
Baojia was always watching.
Humans danced in a mass like one pulsing organism. Skin. Heat. Sweat. The mingled scents of blood and alcohol filled his nose, but he had already fed that night, a pretty young co-ed who would have no memory of his teeth in her neck. He would have indulged in more, but the girl had too much alcohol in her blood, so he pushed her back toward her friends, who only giggled and winked at him.
Idiotic humans. Baojia was painfully bored.
The club in San Diego, Boca, was his sire’s pride and joy. It had been recently remodeled, thanks to Baojia’s presence. He had nothing better to do, after all. He was stuck in San Diego, having a time-out like a rebellious toddler. The first year had been deserved; he had taken his exile with stoic grace. After all, it had been his failure that had led to the death of Ernesto’s kinsman and his negligence caused Ernesto’s favorite granddaughter grave injury. Beatrice De Novo had been under his protection, and he had failed in his mission.
No, the first year had been well deserved.
The second year as well. Perhaps.
Baojia had been in San Diego for three years. Beatrice De Novo had recovered—rather admirably—and had settled with her mate in Los Angeles. She had probably forgotten about him. Forgotten the years he had watched over her while the damnable Italian had been jaunting around the world. It wasn’t Giovanni Vecchio who had protected the young human, it was Baojia. For four years, she had been his assignment. Her safety hadn’t been his only job, but it had been a priority. It still stung that she had no idea the lengths to which he had gone.
History. He took another sip of water. It was history. He had more important things to worry about. Like how to relieve thing s excruciating boredom and convince his sire to release him from the hell on earth of college children who thought they ruled the world.
“Boss?”
He turned at the sound of his assistant’s voice. “What is it, Luis?”
“Do you know a woman named Natalie Ellis?”
He frowned. “Human?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Okay, I figured.” Luis patted the back of the booth in the VIP area of the club, which took up the balcony. “I’ll tell her to take off.”
He shrugged. “Let her stay and keep drinking as long as she’s not causing a scene.”
“Okay. She’s at the bar if you want to look. Redhead in a black dress. Cute, if you like freckles.”
His mouth turned up at the corner. “How sweet.”
“Yeah…” Luis chuckled. “Something tells me… not. Oh, and here’s the report from the casino. Jared dropped it off earlier. You still meeting with Rory at two?”
He nodded. “Make sure my office is clear and show him in as soon as he arrives. What time is it?”
“Eleven.”
He stretched his neck to the side in a completely habitual gesture. He didn’t need to stretch any more than he needed to drink the water in front of him. Still, those little signals all put the humans around him at ease. “Wonderful. It’s busy tonight.”
“Back to school, Boss.” Luis grinned. “A fresh crop of newly legal eye candy.”
He often forgot how young Luis was. The human was only twenty-five, the son of one of Ernesto’s longtime human employees. The don of Los Angeles was nothing if not loyal. He kept the fealty of his human servants for generations, which had served him well in the rapidly changing atmosphere of Southern California.
“Get back to work being charming, Luis. And keep an eye on the new bartender. I think he’s pouring a little heavy for the more attractive female patrons.”
Like the redhead in the black dress who was definitely not a co-ed.
As soon as Luis had mentioned red hair, his eyes had searched for her. From his perch in the corner, Baojia could observe three of the four doors in the club. A monitor in the corner watched the other. He could see the bar, and the mirror behind it let him see each and every movement of the humans tending it. The DJ’s booth was elevated and also monitored by a camera that fed into a small screen he could see from his seat.
The dance floor took up most of the main level, lined by booths that were reservation only. The VIP area in the balcony was even more exclusive. Boca had become the premiere nightclub in downtown San Diego, and Baojia had remodeled it with security in mind. If he had to be stuck in a tiny corner of his sire’s kingdom, that corner would be the most secure in Ernesto’s territories.
He turned and smiled, patting her cheek and taking his handkerchief from his pocket to dab at a spot of blood on her chin. “I’m not hungry for blood tonight, mi querida. Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Sí, Papá. Gracias.”
“Good. Now that you’ve had your fill…” Ernesto finished tending to his child, then his eyes grew cold as he turned to the foggy night. “Find the human, Paula. And bring him to me.”
CHAPTER ONE
San Diego, 2013
The lights of the club pulsed red and gold as he swirled the ice in the glass in front of him. The frozen water turned and twisted, spinning the liquid in his glass into a small whirlpool that splashed over the edge of the cut crystal. His amnis caught the drops that fell to the table and quickly slid them back in the glass, leaving the polished wood unmarked. The music, the abysmally loud techno and pop that the patrons preferred, flowed around him as he sat in the black leather booth, watching.
Baojia was always watching.
Humans danced in a mass like one pulsing organism. Skin. Heat. Sweat. The mingled scents of blood and alcohol filled his nose, but he had already fed that night, a pretty young co-ed who would have no memory of his teeth in her neck. He would have indulged in more, but the girl had too much alcohol in her blood, so he pushed her back toward her friends, who only giggled and winked at him.
Idiotic humans. Baojia was painfully bored.
The club in San Diego, Boca, was his sire’s pride and joy. It had been recently remodeled, thanks to Baojia’s presence. He had nothing better to do, after all. He was stuck in San Diego, having a time-out like a rebellious toddler. The first year had been deserved; he had taken his exile with stoic grace. After all, it had been his failure that had led to the death of Ernesto’s kinsman and his negligence caused Ernesto’s favorite granddaughter grave injury. Beatrice De Novo had been under his protection, and he had failed in his mission.
No, the first year had been well deserved.
The second year as well. Perhaps.
Baojia had been in San Diego for three years. Beatrice De Novo had recovered—rather admirably—and had settled with her mate in Los Angeles. She had probably forgotten about him. Forgotten the years he had watched over her while the damnable Italian had been jaunting around the world. It wasn’t Giovanni Vecchio who had protected the young human, it was Baojia. For four years, she had been his assignment. Her safety hadn’t been his only job, but it had been a priority. It still stung that she had no idea the lengths to which he had gone.
History. He took another sip of water. It was history. He had more important things to worry about. Like how to relieve thing s excruciating boredom and convince his sire to release him from the hell on earth of college children who thought they ruled the world.
“Boss?”
He turned at the sound of his assistant’s voice. “What is it, Luis?”
“Do you know a woman named Natalie Ellis?”
He frowned. “Human?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Okay, I figured.” Luis patted the back of the booth in the VIP area of the club, which took up the balcony. “I’ll tell her to take off.”
He shrugged. “Let her stay and keep drinking as long as she’s not causing a scene.”
“Okay. She’s at the bar if you want to look. Redhead in a black dress. Cute, if you like freckles.”
His mouth turned up at the corner. “How sweet.”
“Yeah…” Luis chuckled. “Something tells me… not. Oh, and here’s the report from the casino. Jared dropped it off earlier. You still meeting with Rory at two?”
He nodded. “Make sure my office is clear and show him in as soon as he arrives. What time is it?”
“Eleven.”
He stretched his neck to the side in a completely habitual gesture. He didn’t need to stretch any more than he needed to drink the water in front of him. Still, those little signals all put the humans around him at ease. “Wonderful. It’s busy tonight.”
“Back to school, Boss.” Luis grinned. “A fresh crop of newly legal eye candy.”
He often forgot how young Luis was. The human was only twenty-five, the son of one of Ernesto’s longtime human employees. The don of Los Angeles was nothing if not loyal. He kept the fealty of his human servants for generations, which had served him well in the rapidly changing atmosphere of Southern California.
“Get back to work being charming, Luis. And keep an eye on the new bartender. I think he’s pouring a little heavy for the more attractive female patrons.”
Like the redhead in the black dress who was definitely not a co-ed.
As soon as Luis had mentioned red hair, his eyes had searched for her. From his perch in the corner, Baojia could observe three of the four doors in the club. A monitor in the corner watched the other. He could see the bar, and the mirror behind it let him see each and every movement of the humans tending it. The DJ’s booth was elevated and also monitored by a camera that fed into a small screen he could see from his seat.
The dance floor took up most of the main level, lined by booths that were reservation only. The VIP area in the balcony was even more exclusive. Boca had become the premiere nightclub in downtown San Diego, and Baojia had remodeled it with security in mind. If he had to be stuck in a tiny corner of his sire’s kingdom, that corner would be the most secure in Ernesto’s territories.
