Microsoft Word - Blood and Sex from CE.rtf (23 page)

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“Yes.”

“Then why do you keep playing that game? Don’t you realize you’re the only one who’s following the rules?”

Blane turned and looked at her. “Don’t misunderstand. They all keep up appearances, but that’s all it is. Even Khalil.”

She stopped walking and blinked at him. There it was, another reference to a side of Khalil that she didn’t know about. When had Blane spent so much time with Khalil? Christiana narrowed her eyes. “What’s with you and him?”

“What do you mean?”

“He seems to have known you for a long time, but I’ve never seen you around.” Blane started walking again and she fought to keep up. After a few yards in silence, she said, “Well?”

“He chose me.”

“For the change?”

“Yes.”

Oh no. That meant he was essentially her brother, too. “I thought Michael was…”

“He is.” He cleared his throat. “Michael was Khalil’s scout in Vietnam and brought us supplies, posing as a spy for our side. You should have seen him in the jungles.” He laughed, lost in his memories. “I’m half Cherokee and always had the shit jobs because of it, but Michael thought I was a brilliant strategist. He would pull me out of the group to help carry supplies through the jungle from his drop points, and we’d talk late into the night.”

“I didn’t know who was in Vietnam. I know Khalil had several at the end to try to limit American causalities.”

Blane nodded. “Michael wasn’t supposed to physically interfere with us, but he didn’t

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have the heart to watch us starve to death.” He was quiet for a moment, and she wondered what he was remembering. “We were pinned down one evening on a patrol. Everyone died. I was shot in the stomach and played dead while they rifled through my platoon’s belongings. Michael found us just after sunset and slaughtered the Vietnamese soldiers, then changed me. That war was the perfect cover for all the soldiers who were changed. So many men died.”

“I hadn’t realized.” She took long strides to keep his pace. “So it was brainpower that got you in.”

He glanced down at her. “Yep.”

“Please don’t be offended by this, but I haven’t thought of you as particularly intelligent.

You don’t—”

“Advertise it?”

“Yes.”

“Why should I?”

“Because people might not...well...”

“Judge me.” He smirked. “I’d rather they underestimate me. They’ll never see me coming.”

He was right. It actually was a brilliant strategy. If the Council knew he was that intelligent, some of the others would fear him. Now, he was little more than the hired help.

She tried to keep her voice low. “Did you spend time with Khalil after the change? I know he was gone during part of the war, but I never knew where he went.”

“Yeah. He was in Collins with us for about a year. I don’t know what he was doing, but he spent a lot of time with Michael and Castillo.”

She followed as he turned left and walked up a row of old hotels and buildings.

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Christiana watched him carefully. Blane’s entire life was a sort of charade, like hers. Only his mission was to keep everyone thinking he was less than he was: the opposite of hers. Were his repetitive conquests part of that? Or just another male trait?

He suddenly turned to her. “You’re in love with me.”

She laughed. “What gives you that impression?”

“It’s not an impression. It’s a fact.”

Christiana smiled slowly, secretly. As much as she’d like to deny it, he was right. “I must be the densest person in the world.”

“Why?”

“You chase anything in a skirt.”

“Not for love, Princess.”

“I don’t understand that. Why waste so much time with the wrong people?”

Blane watched Christiana walking beside him. How could he answer her question and not sound like a fool? Men were men, and they chased women. That’s what they did. Any guy who didn’t was exactly what his dad had always called him: a pussy. At least, that’s what the guys all said.

But there was no place in Christiana’s world for such an attitude. She was a lady, more so than any woman he’d ever met. She put on a front and tried to be modern, but the heart of her world was still old-fashioned, a world where being a gentleman was a good thing, not a sign of weakness. “It’s a game. Nothing more.”

“I don’t understand that at all. What about love?”

“Love has nothing to do with it.”

“I know, but don’t you want love?”

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“Yeah, if it comes my way.” He winked at her; it always seemed to distract her. “You offering?”

She laughed and glanced away. Just once, he’d love to have Jonas’s ability to read thoughts. Christiana’s face was an unreadable mask that left him wondering what she was running through that mind of hers. Except, of course, when she wanted him.

They turned and went down a side street toward the hotel. It wasn’t until they were halfway down that something moved in the shadows. She must have seen it too, because she stopped. The hair on his neck stood on end and everything instinctual inside him screamed
Run!

But he wasn’t going anywhere.
Vampiro
didn’t run—unless it was to gain the advantage and go for another attack.

It started toward them, moving at a slow but steady pace. The shape of a dog, but so much larger. He’d seen and smelled enough Quietus Agents to know what the stench drifting past them meant. That damned werewolf was there for them. It was too big of a coincidence not to be.

“Here.” He handed Christiana the packages. “Get behind me,” he whispered.

His phone went off.
Dammit
.

Blane flipped open the phone and stuck it to his ear. “Yeah.”

“Blane. We’ve got trouble.” It was Jonas.

“Us, too.”

“Got it handled?”

“Yeah.”

“We were ambushed at the hotel. Find a new home, then call me.”

“Got it.” The agent was getting closer. “Gotta run, J.”

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“Kick him once for me.”

He smirked and shut the phone. “Don’t get close, but don’t take off. It’s more than just us.”

“Are they okay?”

“Yeah.” She must have heard Jonas’s side of the conversation. “Be right back.”

The wolf stalked in the shadow, waiting for him to come into the place where all the people of Venice wouldn’t see what they really were. It was in both of their interests to keep the humans clueless. The werewolves would be hunted just as much as the vampires were if word got out. And they didn’t want the angry mobs any more than anyone else did.

It let out a short bark as he started forward.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m comin’.”

Blane stretched his hands, then pulled them into tight fists. The knuckles cracked, and his teeth began to ache, ready to bite and tear. That familiar tension rolled up his spine as his muscles readied for the fight. It was all second nature now, as it was for any soldier. And he loved it.

As soon as he hit the shadow, that big, snarling fur ball leapt at him. Blane caught it in midair and slammed it sideways into the side of the building. Stucco cracked and cascaded down on the thing’s dark hair. It whined and jumped back on its feet as he pulled a long knife from its sheath on his leg. Knives would work faster, especially silver-dipped ones. Even though he’d love to spend the night pulling this thing apart one bit at a time, he had to get Christiana to safety. There was no time for this shit. “Come on, let’s get it over with.”

The wolf darted at him, growling this time.

He waited until it was right at him, then sidestepped, sweeping his arm toward the beast

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until it met flesh. The metal caught bone, but with the combination of the thing’s speed and Blane’s arm, it ripped through and into the torso.

He grabbed a leg and flipped it onto its back, then made quick work of pulling out the heart and cutting the throat. It was messy, but he didn’t want to fire off shots in the middle of the city. It would bring too many humans, and probably vampires, too.

Blane glanced around for something to hide it in.

“There’s a dumpster,” Christiana said, suddenly beside him. When he glanced up, she looked neither disgusted nor surprised, as he’d expected. She was moving, watching for others with almost a soldier’s precision.

“Good. Thanks.” He grabbed the body and tossed it into the dumpster, then wiped his hands on an old blanket that someone had thrown away.

“Your shirt’s soaked.”

“Shit.”

He took off his jacket, then the shirt. After using the dry side to wipe his chest, he tossed the shirt in with the body. Since any DNA that a cop could match would disintegrate once it was in the sunlight and away from his blood enough to break the ties, there was no worry of being discovered. Sometimes, being a preturnaturally powerful being had its perks.

Blane slid the jacket back on, closed it to hide the bloodstains on his skin, and took the packages from her. “We can’t go back to the hotel. We’ve got to find a place to sleep before sun-up.”

“I know the perfect one. Follow me.”