Crimson Veil

Chapter 16

Late in the evening—around midnight—we returned to the house. The others were tired, and so I bade them good night and went down to my lair to get ready for my trip to Roman’s. I thought about braiding my hair again before I left but then said, “Fuck it,” and changed into jeans and a turtleneck, leaving my hair down. Nerissa was already asleep by the time I left. She had a busy day ahead of her at work tomorrow and I didn’t want to disturb her, so I left a note on the nightstand and headed out. I decided to take the Jag. It was still rattling, but if Jason said it would make it until next week, I believed him.

The streets were still fairly busy—not only was it Samhain Eve, but it was also Halloween for the general populace, and adult partygoers were reveling. I was headed down a side street when a Hummer lurched forward out of the alley. The next moment, I screamed as the beast’s nose drove itself directly into the side of my Jag on the passenger side. Before I knew what was happening, we went skidding across the intersection.

Gripping the wheel, I held on, the sound of metal screeching as I struggled to break my Jag free from the Hummer. But my bumper was tangled up in its bumper, like a chicken on a spit, and all I could do was ride out the attack.

Seconds later, the oncoming brick wall loomed large, and I panicked. I could probably survive this, if nothing pierced me through the heart, but the idea of being wedged between that monstrosity and the building didn’t strike me as comforting. I let go of the wheel and struggled with my seat belt.

But it was too late—my Jag hit the building, side first, as metal screeched along metal. The Hummer wasn’t braking—it continued its drive forward, like a compactor in a junkyard, shattering the passenger door and window, trundling me into the brick wall before I could get free of my seat belt.

I braced myself for impact as it crunched the front seats, expecting to be mangled at any moment. I knew I could survive the impact, and heal, but only if my heart was protected from anything that might be aimed at it and if my car didn’t explode into flames.

But then, as the sounds of a siren echoed nearby, the Hummer stopped abruptly, then pulled away, dragging the passenger door of my car with it. It barreled down the street. I held tight to the steering wheel, trying to get my bearings. Then, panic rising, I ripped off the seat belt and, unable to make it past the jumble of metal on either side, I smashed my fist through the already fractured windshield. Within seconds, I crawled over the hood as the cops came skidding up. I cleared the wreck and stood there, numb, staring at the remains of what had been my Jag. There was nothing left except twisted metal and broken glass.

“Menolly!” Yugi’s voice shook me out of my daze.

“Yugi?” I turned, staring at Chase’s second in command. “Yugi? What are you doing here?”

“I was on my way back to headquarters when I saw the whole thing.” He was Swedish, and an empath, and he was damned good at his job. Now a look of concern spread across his face. “Who the hell was trying to kill you, Menolly? Because from what I saw, that was deliberate.”

Twenty minutes later, I was in the headquarters of the FH-CSI, and Roman was there by my side. Yugi had called Nerissa, and she, Camille, and Delilah were on their way down to pick me up. I couldn’t have the hot coffee, but Yugi had found a spare bottle of blood and he warmed it up. I sipped slowly, the liquid loosening the knots in my back. While I hadn’t been hurt, I’d had one hell of a shock.

“We have to trace the Hummer.” Roman was furious. He leaned his hands on the table and stared at Yugi, who was sitting beside me. “You’re the policeman. Did you get the license plate?”

Yugi shook his head. “My first priority was making sure Menolly was okay. By the time I saw her, the car had vanished. But we have the make and model, and we have the color. It’s hard to hide a Hummer. They don’t just blend in with the crowd.”

“It’s not hard if you have a garage or a warehouse.” Roman was pissed. I’d seldom seen him this angry.

“Don’t bother. We’re pretty sure we know who’s responsible. Or at least, who has a hand in it.” I reached up, placed my hand on his arm.

“I may have some information that can shed some light on the attack.” Rane—one of the Fae officers who worked the night shift—entered the room at that moment. She was holding my purse. “This is yours, right?”

I nodded. “Right.”

“There was a tracer bug in it. I caught the little bugger when we were clearing out your car before the tow truck showed up. It was trying to crawl out of the bag as I picked it up. I managed to catch the critter.” She held up a jar. Inside, a tracer bug was fluttering around.

A lot like beetles, tracer bugs were from Otherworld, and they did a remarkable job of acting like a tracker—a biological GPS, so to speak. While not intelligent, they could easily be used by anybody who was good with a seeing-eye spell, or any sort of spy spells. Usually, sorcerers used them to track their rivals.

I stared at the thing. They were good at camouflage. I seldom pawed through my purse other than looking for my wallet or my keys. It could have easily hidden there for any length of time.

“When’s the last time you fully cleaned out your purse?” Yugi stared at the bug, then motioned for Rane to place the jar on the table.

Thinking back, I tried to remember when I’d last looked through the handbag. After a moment, I knew. “Two weeks ago. I emptied it out to find Nerissa’s chocolates she’d tossed in there.”

“Can you think of any time in the past two weeks that you haven’t been around your purse, other than at home? I doubt anybody there would have bugged your handbag.” Yugi jotted something down in his notebook.

“Damn it… there have been several occasions.” I propped my chin up with my hands. “I can’t believe this—my Jag’s destroyed. The first accident was bad enough but this one? I can’t believe I’ve been in two wrecks in less than a week. They can’t be coincidence.”

Roman rubbed his chin and looked at Yugi. “You know who’s doing this but you aren’t telling us. Don’t you think it’s time?”

Yugi stared at him for a moment. “Menolly, was your purse unattended during the first accident?”

I frowned, thinking back. “Yeah, actually. It was… I left it on the seat when I let… whatever her name was—I can’t remember it right now—sit in my car to warm up while we waited for the tow truck.”

“And she vanished, right?”

“Right. And her insurance information turned out to be fraudulent.”

Yugi flipped through the file folder, and I realized it was the same one that they had created for the first accident. “We have here that you told us her name was Eisha te Kana. Here’s the information she gave you for her phone and address, but it says that her info checked out as fake.”

“Right. She disappeared, and nobody ever contacted me to tell me if they’d found her.”

“We didn’t. She just vanished into nowhere.” Yugi looked up as Nerissa and my sisters entered the room.

They flocked around me like a group of mother hens, crowding Roman out. I was too rattled to hear what they were all saying, so I held up my hands.

“One at a time. Please.” Suddenly feeling as if all the wind had left my sails, I drooped. “I’m tired. I know vamps aren’t supposed to get tired, but I am. I’m weary and stressed and shaky.”

Camille motioned to the chairs. “Everybody, sit down and shut up. Let Menolly take the lead. She’s all right, we can see that much, so back off and give her some space.”

Grateful, I waited till they had sorted themselves out. Nerissa vanished for a moment and brought back a box of doughnuts. Camille and Delilah each accepted raspberry-filled pastries, while Nerissa bit into a chocolate-covered cake doughnut. As they listened, I told them what had happened. Recounting it didn’t take any of the horror away, nor did spelling out the connection we thought there might be with Eisha te Kana.

“So is your car totally trashed?” Delilah winced as she asked. She knew how much I loved my Jag.

In answer, I pulled out my phone and showed her the pictures I’d taken before driving back to headquarters. The crumpled metal, crushed in on itself, was shocking. That I’d been right in the middle of it was worse.

“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.

The exercise was doing wonders for my mood—the stress coming out in the movement. I began to laugh, not caring if he heard me. For the first time in days, I felt free. If I were still alive, I’d say I was able to breathe.

And then, as I rounded the corner of a stand of cedar, there he was, waiting for me. Roman was leaning against a cedar, a smart-assed look on his face. I skidded to a halt as the mood shifted in a fraction of a second. My hunger grew strong, my thirst burning in my throat. As he began to walk me back against a tree as big around as a car, I locked eyes with him, watching him cautiously.

His icy gray gaze swept over me, and I felt naked. The next moment he lunged forward and had hold of my hands. I found myself back up against the tree, as he thrust my arms over my head and caught my mouth with lips soft as silk, sweet as blood and wine. His fangs began to descend and I moaned, wanting him. Wanting to dive deep under his skin, to taste the blood rise to the surface, bubble into my mouth with its foaming crimson warmth.

Blood. It was the only part about him—the only part of me—that retained any heat. Blood, the life force. Blood, the passion and the pain. Blood, the crimson flowers that stained the snow, that stained alabaster skin, that stained sheets and clothes and bodies. Blood, the drink of the damned—and I wanted it, wanted Roman’s blood so badly I screamed.

“Feed me. Drink me. Taste me. Fuck me.”

He laughed, low and sultry, and his arms enveloped me, holding me tight. “Can you moan for me, pretty one? Can you beg for me? Because I would beg for you—I’d beg for a taste of your blood, to fuck your cunt, to fill you up and drive you deep into the night.”

I shifted, exposing my neck, and Roman leaned his head back, fangs gleaming in the shock of lightning that flashed overhead. He reared back, then with a low moan of desire, of lust, he plunged deep into my skin. I felt the blood begin to flow, and the ache of his bite, the pain of his fangs, drove themselves deep into my heart.

“Hurt me, make me bleed, make me feel.” I begged him, pleading for the pain. Pleading for the sensations that reminded me I was still here, still existing.

He made it hurt for me, made it ache, driving me under with a wash of bloody tears and searing pain. And in the pain, I began to weep. Weeping for my father, for my sisters, for the thousands who had died in Elqaneve. I wept for the victims who had been caught in the fire at my bar. I wept for Nerissa, who was stuck with loving me—who deserved so much better.

As the tears stained my face, Roman began to murmur something, and the next thing I knew, we were standing in the middle of a brilliant shower of blood, in a waterfall of energy—red and gold and burning orange, and all around was the scent of copper, the copper of blood, the cloying wash that gave the creatures of the earth their substance. Blood was life. Blood was power.

And there, under the Crimson Veil, under the watchful eyes of the great Mother of Vampires, Roman took me to the ground. He ripped at my shirt, and tossed it to the side. I unzipped my jeans, pushing them down as he removed his smoking jacket. Then, unzipping his leather pants, he pushed them down and moved between my legs.

I looked up at him, the hunger gnawing deep. “Take me. Make me feel alive. I need to feel alive.”

With a rough laugh, he flipped me over. “I will make you feel alive in every way I can. As long as that’s what you want.”

“Do it. Do whatever you want to me.”

Roman let out a low grunt as he stuck two fingers up my cunt, and my body responded. I groaned as he pulled them out and lubricated my ass with them. Instinct took over and I tightened my butt cheeks, but he wouldn’t stop. He parted them—surprisingly gentle in his movements—and then, inserted one finger up my ass. I shifted, moaning as the surprising notes of pleasure swept through me.

“You like that?”

I nodded. “More?”

“As you wish, my consort.” And then, he pushed his cock against my ass, slowly driving forward, easing himself inside, fraction by fraction of an inch, until he let out a satisfied grunt. “Head’s in. Now, love, are you ready? I’m going to fill you up, take it to the hilt. Beg me.”

Responding to the passion behind his words, to the absolute feeling of being desired and wanted, I obeyed. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

And so he drove in, and again the mix of pain and pleasure sent me reeling. I squirmed as he slowly thrust in to the hilt, till I could feel his balls pressing against my butt. And then, he reached down between my legs and began to finger my clit. As I fell into the rhythm, and began to soar—rising higher, letting out little cries—he abruptly stopped and pulled out.

He reached down and grabbed me by the ankles, flipping me over on my back. With a quick wipe of his cock, he lunged between my legs, plunging deep into my cunt.

As he shifted, penetrating deeper with each thrust, his eyes never leaving my face, all that existed was his cock inside me, the sensation of being full, of not having to be the one in charge. Of not having to worry about hurting him.

I fell into his stare as around us the veil of blood continued to flow. The energy of the Veil began to absorb us into it, and I realized that I was fucking the essence of the blood, fucking the soul of every vampire that had ever walked the world. Their passion, hunger, drive roiled around me in vast clouds of thirst and joy and hunger and pain.

Finally, when I could stand it no longer, I let go of my pain, of my fear, and gave it up. And as I did so, I came, losing myself in an orgasm that spiraled me into the fire. Into the blood. Back into the core of myself.