Crimson Veil
Page 33

“Oh, great gods.” Delilah motioned to Camille, who peeked over her shoulder. “If it had been Camille or me, we wouldn’t have walked out of that alive, I think. Oh, Menolly, your Jag.”
“I damned near didn’t walk out of there. A dozen spears of metal could have skewered me—or the gas tank could have blown. The only reason my attacker fled was because of the sirens.”
At that point, Yugi got a call. After a moment, he hung up. “I’m betting she left the tracer bug in your bag.”
“If she left that, did she leave anything else?” Now I was worried. “And why an accident?”
“Maybe because you aren’t always accessible? We speculated that one before. It’s hard to sneak up on a vampire. But a wreck? Can conceivably kill one. And that night—Eisha may have been armed to take you out another way if the accident didn’t work, but you had already called the cops. Do you think she was driving the Hummer?” Delilah flipped open her laptop and began tapping away.
“I don’t think so, but I have no idea.” Pausing, I frowned and turned to Nerissa. “Can you ask Yugi about whatever it was you wanted to talk to Chase about? For our unexpected guests?”
She blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that, but yeah, I might as well. Yugi?”
He glanced over at her. “Yes?”
“Can I speak to you in private for a moment?” She led him out of the room.
I slid back in my chair, stretching out my legs. “I have to buy a new car.” That was the first thing that crossed my mind. Then, “If I was bugged, have you guys been targeted, too?”
Camille and Delilah immediately emptied their purses and sorted through. Delilah’s was easy—keys, compact, candy bars, phone, and notepad. Camille’s was like the jumble from hell. But she went through everything and, finally, shook her head.
“Nothing in mine either. I wonder why they tried the same tactic twice.”
“I wasn’t expecting it. Puts them at arm’s length—a safer place to be with a vampire. This time, they used a bigger vehicle. And it probably would have worked if the cruiser hadn’t spotted it and put on the sirens.”
Camille set down the rest of her second doughnut. “I have a theory.”
“Wait till Yugi gets back. I’m too tired to rehash things over and over.”
We sat in silence until he returned, followed by Nerissa. By the look on her beaming face, whatever the conversation was, it had been successful.
“Yugi can hide our guests. Don’t ask where, but he and Chase can squirrel them into hiding for a while.” She winked at me. “See, I’m good for something!”
The comment was in jest, but it still stung. I winced. “I never, ever have implied you aren’t.”
“I was just joking.” She stared at me, then both of us dropped our gazes. Too much stress, too little sleep, and some unresolved nebulous issues made for a volatile combo, and not one to dive into when we were in our current states.
I decided to skirt the issue. “Where? Or can you guys tell us? If you can’t, that’s fine.”
Yugi started to shake his head but Delilah interrupted.
“I know! It’s that hidden floor here, isn’t it? Chase hinted there was a hidden level to the FH-CSI, and I always thought there might be one.” She paused and—at his startled look—laughed. “Don’t answer. I know you can’t. But that’s my guess.”
I grinned. “I think you may be onto something, but we’ll leave it to Chase whether or not he can tell us. Meanwhile, Camille, you had a theory?”
She nodded slowly, worrying her lip. “My guess… this Eisha woman? She was tracking you before this. And I’m betting it was since you refused to sell the bar.”
“What? How could she?”
“I don’t know, but think about it. The same scenario—she was waiting for you, pulled out at just the right time. Which meant she had to know you were on the way. How? Because she was already following you.”
“That fits,” Yugi said, and we all stared at him. “While Nerissa and I were outside talking, I got word that the boys found a second tracer bug. It was still alive and in the trunk of your car. And that would fall right in line with Camille’s supposition.”
“Another one? Fuck.” I slammed my hand on the table, shaking it. “Then why the second one? Why bug my purse…”
“Easy. While it’s not difficult to target your car with a tracer bug, whoever was responsible probably thought ahead. Why not have a second bug ready to go, just in case you survived the first wreck? What if you walked away but your car was totaled? Or needed some extensive work? Why not ensure they can still follow you? Slip the tracer bug into your purse for good measure?”
It all made sense. Lowestar had been targeting me for a while. “Fuck, put security on Shikra of the Utopia Club. Don’t ask why; just do it. If I was a target, she’ll be a target.”
He nodded. “Will do. Meanwhile, be cautious. I know there’s more going on here than you are telling me. So be careful, Menolly. Be careful, all of you.”
Yugi sent two squad cars to pick up our guests. Violet and the others were exhausted, and they didn’t protest as the cops took them away. She asked me if I’d tell Tanne where she was, and I made a vague promise—one I doubted I could keep, since I didn’t know the answer to that myself.
Roman followed us back to the house, although I made him stay outside. As much as I liked him, and regardless of the fact that he was my sire now, I refused to give him access to the house.
He waited outside while I said good night to my sisters and Nerissa before they climbed back in bed. Nerissa gave us a narrow look before heading downstairs, but I kissed her long and hard, hoping to reassure her that everything was all right. I had to figure out what I was doing that bothered her. No way in hell did I want my wife pissed off at me like this.
I led Roman over to the porch swing and we sat under the rainy night, as the misting rain whipped past us. I had brought a blanket out, because I didn’t want to get wet more than for any other reason, and we huddled beneath it.
“I’m not very chatty.” I forestalled his attempts at small talk. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate our conversations, but so much shit has gone on that I just don’t have the energy to keep up chitchat.”
“You’d better find a way to do so with your wife. I heard what she said back at the FH-CSI, and I saw the way she looked at you before you entered the house. Nerissa’s feeling neglected, and I don’t blame her. You have a way of shutting out the world when you don’t want to deal with emotion, Menolly. You shut out the people you love—the people who are your friends.”
I brooded on his words for moment. And then, in a moment of clarity, they hit home. He was right. I knew I did that, and yet it wasn’t something I could help. Or do you just want to avoid facing it, so you tell yourself you can’t help it? Is that it perhaps?
The thought ran through my mind and I tried to brush it away, but it wouldn’t budge. Maybe Roman was right. Was I, after only six months’ worth of marriage, already neglecting my wife? I’d been avoiding Roman lately, too. And this past week, I’d tried to avoid my feelings on what was going down back home, focusing instead on what needed to be done.
“All right. I’ll give you that one. I’ll work on it. But what did you want to talk to me about? What’s going down?”
He sighed, leaning back and draping an arm around my shoulders. “First, we’ve figured out that at least seven of the vamps on the missing-persons list were placed at the Wayfarer the night it was torched. They haven’t been seen since, and I think we can safely assume they were dusted.”
Seven more victims, for a total of fifteen so far. My stomach lurched. “Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I’m sorry didn’t cover it.
“We know the Utopia Club fire was arson, as well, and we got the report on what went on down there when you and your sisters went to help. Do you have anything you want to tell me since you last talked to me?”
It was time to come clean. “We know who’s behind the fires.” I told him about Lowestar then, and the connections between the letters and the threatening phone calls, and what we’d found out about Suvika and why Lowestar was trying to raise him. “We think he’s first trying a power grab for Seattle’s supernatural businesses. Then we think he might branch out to co-opt the FBH financial district.”
Roman coughed. “You mean he’s looking to become a supernatural business magnate?”
“It would seem that way. And our worry is, should he manage to raise Suvika, there’s a little matter of a prophecy that Suvika’s brothers will rise with him, which means three demigods of lord and vice running around. But you cannot start a war with him—I can’t let you. Too much rides on secrecy.”
“I don’t like making promises like that but… for you, I will. For now.” Roman let out a low whistle. “What have you managed to find out about how far along Lowestar is with his plan?”
“That’s the problem. What with everything going down back in Otherworld, and losing our father, and the Wayfarer and finding Violet before she could be sold off, we haven’t had the chance to look. I guess that’s on the agenda for tomorrow. Just please, don’t mention we found the prisoners alive. On the off chance that Lowestar doesn’t know, we don’t want him finding out. It’s too dangerous for them and their families.”
He nodded. “Got it.” After a moment, he leaned back. “So you think Lowestar is responsible for your accident—or rather, accidents?”
“Yeah. I think it’s a punishment for not selling the bar.”
“Well, the other bit of news, remember that my lawyer wants to talk to you about the lawsuit. We think we can get them to drop it outright, but he needs some information from you first. As soon as you can make arrangements to see him, the better.”
And with that, he draped his arm around my shoulders and gathered me in for a long, slow kiss. Roman’s lips were soft. They were cool as death, cool as my own, and I lingered, letting his tongue play over my lips.
I moaned lightly into his mouth, realizing just how much stress I’d been under. As he pressed against me, the thirst—the bloodlust—began to wake, whirling up like a rising storm. I let out a little growl and he responded.
“Come, love. Let us go out in the woods. You need me and I need you. You have to release some of the stress, and you know that I’m the best antidote for that. I’m your cure, your remedy, your vaccine against the pressure that you keep pushed down day after day.”
My heart lurched at his words and I wanted to cry. He was right. The pressure was absolutely insane, and I worked so fucking hard to keep it in check, to keep the tight rein over my predator that allowed me to exist within society without being a menace.
I nodded, standing. “Lead me, my liege.” For he was. He was my liege, my sire, my consort in blood sport.
We slipped down into the darkness, away from the house, toward Birchwater Pond. The slow beat of the forest rippled past, echoing with the autumn storm. But the rain and wind were of no consequence, and as we began to run, to chase through the trees, they became so many blurs. I tagged Roman on the shoulder.
“You’re it.”
He laughed. “Try as you might.” And he was off and running.
I gave him a five-second start, then began to race through the forest, hunting him, seeking him, following his trail. I could smell him on the wind, taste the bloodlust that surrounded his wake. He was fast, terribly fast, and cunning—the perfect apex predator, and I was one of the few that could follow him where he was going. I stalked him, peeking behind tree and bush, picking up his scent, lust bubbling up in my veins like slow fire.
The woods were a cacophony of sound, of tree branches sighing in the wind, of leaves swirling in the darkness, rain pounding through leaf and bough and needle. The animals were silent—they knew we were out, they knew we were hunting, and fear trailed their retreat. But we weren’t out for them—we weren’t out for fresh blood. Not tonight. Tonight we were both hunter and hunted, and our focus was solely placed on each other.
And then, as I paused by a boulder beneath a large fir tree, a noise from above startled me. Roman landed in front of me from where he’d been hiding up in the branches. His eyes were on fire, and he was laughing as he tapped my shoulder.
“You’re it. Go.”
And, my cunt tightening, I turned and raced into the night. I was his prey, only this time I wanted him to catch me. I wanted him to find me, to take me down—but I couldn’t make it easy. If he found me, it would be because he could match me, not because I gave him any quarter.
I passed through brush and fern, barely skimming the ground, and then, in the way he had taught me, fueled by his blood in my veins, I closed my eyes and, in the next moment, was gliding into the night on bat wings.
Spiraling up and out, into the storm, I reveled in the currents that tossed me from side to side. The storm was blowing up a gale now, and I let it carry me on, giving in. Tired of fighting, I let the wind carry me willy-nilly, and then, spotting a good place to hide, I spiraled down to land on a branch of a tall fir. As I shifted back into my normal form, I wondered how far away Roman was. I stood up, holding on to the tree for balance, trying to scout out the area, but I couldn’t see him. Secure in my lead, I lightly stepped off the branch and slowly levitated to the ground. There I began to run through the trees again.