Mixed Blessing (Mixed Blessing Mystery, Book 1) (24 page)

"You should know better than to look a vampire in the eye," I said under my breath.

"Jett said you wouldn't harm me, that you wouldn't dare."

"Oh, did he now?" I shook my head and flopped into a seat in the corner.

"Do you want to feed there?" she asked, nodding towards where I was sitting.

I shrugged. "It's as good a place as any."

She nodded, but I think it was more to herself than me. I watched as she fortified herself and then, once a mask of sorts was in place, she walked stiff backed toward my chair. Not so sure of my abilities not to harm then.

She hesitated once she reached me. "Um," she said quietly, "usually I sit on Jett's knee."

I raised my eyebrows at her. She was one of Jett's personal donors. How generous of him. She looked embarrassed for a second and then quickly put her shoulders back and attempted a shrug of her own.

"I've never had a female vampire feed from me," she said as she positioned herself across my knees. I hadn't had any intention of feeding off her neck or placing her in such an intimate position, but I had been curious to see just how she would present herself to me, so had let the scene play out. Now as she settled into my lap I felt like a leech. "You won't take it further than just a feeding will you?" she asked as she lifted her hair off her neck and tilted her head.

I let a breath out in disgust. "Just how far does
Jett
take it?" I'd emphasised Jett's name, she'd been on a first name basis with him after all.

She blushed, my fangs flicked out, and I muttered, "Bastard," under my breath. Then pulled her close and slid my fangs into her neck before I allowed myself a further reaction. I'd have words with Jett later, but I'd not give him reason to "spank me" if I could help it.

I let the sting of the bite change to a sense of gratitude and warmth. There was no need to hide what was happening, this girl was one of a very few number of humans who knew what we were and what we needed to survive. No doubt she was paid handsomely for her discretion and blood, maybe even the daughter of one of Jett's human servants. I wasn't interested in finding out. I was still battling what I was and had no intention of developing a line of my own or sycophantic servants to dedicate their daughters and sons to me for centuries to come.

Some vampires were just so damn antiquated. Jett was proving just how much he fell into that category today.

I drank for about half a minute, then withdrew my fangs and licked the wound closed. I waited for her to get her bearings and then lifted her off my lap as I stood in a fluid glide. I felt strong, alive, buzzing. Her blood had been sweet, succulent and fulfilling. Not a taint amongst it. Good blood. Clean blood. Powerful blood. Jett had honoured me with his offering. I grimaced as those words - alien to me, but not to my Dark Shadow - whispered through my mind.

"Are you going to be OK, Sandy?" I asked, licking the last of her blood off my lips.

"Yeah," she said dreamily. "You rock."

Hmm. "Good," I said instead. "Can you get home on your own?"

"Oh, I'll go sleep it off in the servants' quarters." There's servants' quarters? Crikey, I really needed to pay more attention to the ways of the local Nosferatu mogul. "Jett said to tell you to go to his chambers once you've fed."

"Did he indeed?" I muttered as I opened the door to the hall. "I'll remember that."

She giggled, a little drunk on my bite. "He said you'd say something like that, but I was to remind you..." She hesitated and frowned as though she was trying to remember the exact words. "I was to remind you, that he knows where your friend lives." She nodded as though confirming to herself that she had got the words right. But I had frozen at what she had said.

Kara. That freakin' arrogant, obnoxious, arsehole! Just who the hell did he think he was to boss me around and threaten my best friend? This had to stop. Right now. Today.

I pushed past a slightly swaying Sandy and stormed off towards the Master of the City's chambers on the other side of the building, cutting through a deserted clubroom floor and using my
Sanguis Vitam
to blast the lock on his private security door. The electronic keypad exploded, the door burst back with a crunch of cracking wood and I flashed down the hall to his office. Storming into the space with fury in my veins and red flashing from my eyes.

I may have just eaten and the cerulean blue of my eyes was in full force, but when I called on the Dark Shadow, there was only ever red. Right now I embraced the colour change, embraced my Dark Shadow, letting my fangs elongate and preceding my entrance with a disturbingly low growl.

The room was bare. Just his desk, chairs, sofa, cabinets. No Master of the City. Oh hell no, he did not expect me to meet him in his room.

I spun around ready to walk out of there, out of the damn building if I could - there was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction of greeting me while he lounged on his bed - and abruptly crashed into a muscular torso. That felt like a brick wall.

A whoosh of air left me as my chest compressed and all air was forced out, then I sprang back, rebounding in lightning speed, only to get my arm gripped in a vice-like beefy grasp.

"Looking for me, kitten?" Jett asked silkily.

That was all it took. That knowing smile and smug tone of voice.

I launched myself at him with every intention of doing him harm.

A snarl met my approach, the flash of azure almost blinding me and the the crunch of my wrist snapping beneath Jett's grip echoing through my bones. My fangs were on his neck before the pain even registered.

Then I was flying across the office and landing in a body shattering heap against the far wall. Plasterboard smashing at my back. Before I'd even comprehended my change of position, I was airborne, attacking again. After everything that had happened to me, since my sire tried to turn me and failed, this was the final straw. Jett's threat to harm Kara.

Kara was mine. Mine to protect. Mine to keep secret. Mine.

I slammed into his chest and sent him flying, briefly considering the fact that he may have been letting me get this close for a reason. He was not only a level one Master Vampire, he was the Master of Auckland City. I shouldn't have stood a chance. Yet my fangs found purchase, again, and his blood flooded my mouth.

Then back I flew through space, landing in an awkward and impossible position across his desk. The loud snap of my spine silencing everything else. The desk was still standing, the force of his throwing me and the strength of my body, had not been enough to crush it. It stood against the onslaught. It didn't break. But I did.

Breath left me in a rush of pain, then nothing. At least nothing from my chest down. I couldn't feel my toes, my legs. I couldn't move my arms. But I could see, shift my head to track Jett's progress, watch him stalk towards me, death gracing his face: my death.

I swallowed thickly and tried futilely to move. My Dark Shadow screaming in frustration inside. I was with her on this one. We were screwed.

I closed my eyes slowly and waited for the killing blow. At least I'd probably not feel it, that's if he chose to stake my heart. If he went for wrenching my head off my neck, it would probably hurt. But hopefully not for long.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

I shook my head and heard Jett laugh, a huff of a laugh as if he was amused but didn't really want to be. I felt his heat against my face as he settled into a comfortable position on top of the desk beside me. I opened my eyes and looked up into the azure of his as he leaned his bulk against the freakishly solid structure beneath us.

"Impressive," he said matter of factly. "It has been a while since one has managed to get so close." That was a surprise, I had thought he was
letting
me close, playing with me, but I had bested him - albeit briefly? Somehow I couldn't muster the strength required to be pleased with that development.

I grunted instead. He did laugh at that, but it was short-lived.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, making his shoulders and pecs bulge beneath his shirt.

Good question. If I were him, I'd be dead. But, he had asked and if this was my only chance to survive, I'd take it. I searched my brain for a decent reply. What could I offer him? What would he want? My power. Me to join his line.

I'd rather die.

My skills then. "The murderer is a Rogue. The one who marked me. It was a warning to back off. He knows I've been investigating, we're getting close."

"And this saves you how?"

I lifted my eyes to look directly into his. "I've been contracted as a consultant to the police." This was a risk, but what choice did I have? I was facing my imminent death, what would another transgression do to me now? He was going to kill me anyway, why not get a few things off my chest? "The lead detective is aware that something unnatural is involved in the murders. I'm his liaison to the supernatural world."

Jett just stared at me, incredulously. Finally, after several seconds of his fierce but utterly unbelieving gaze, he said in a deep, gruff voice, "You think the fact that you have revealed our kind to a human will save you now?" He had spoken slowly, as if he was barely containing his fury. "You are begging for me to end your life, by placing this at my feet. Samson is right, you do court the final death." He stood up abruptly then and started to pace the floor.

I waited for him to say something else, but he seemed deep in thought. I let him work through his frustration in silence for a minute or two, then decided I'd been patient enough.

"You know as well as I, that more and more of our world will cross over into theirs. Especially now the Fey have arrived in this realm. I have an in with the local police force. Just one contact who is as keen as us not to divulge our secrets to anyone else. We can use this to contain things, to nip them in the bud before they get too far. To fend off any possibility of the
Iunctio
catching wind of happenings in our city before it is too late." Of course, I had every reason to escape this city when this case was solved, but Jett didn't need to know that.

He had stopped pacing and was just staring at me from across the room. I held my own under that inscrutable glare. Not that I could shift in my discomfort, but I kept my chin high and my eyes glued to his.

"I also have a contact with the Fey. The
Herra
of the Grey Lords. I have gained his trust and co-operation through this investigation. I can bridge the gap between the worlds. I can gain access to information otherwise not readily available."

Jett cocked his head to the side studying me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, my ability to scent emotions was long lost. Either due to the injury, or more likely, the nearness of my impending death. It didn't matter, I was winging this as it was. He would either see me as an asset, one to be used and therefore not condemned to the final death, or he would not.

But still he didn't give a reply.

I fortified myself for the next admission. "You know what I am capable of. You know what I am. I am uniquely gifted to carry out this task. I have the contacts and I have the skills to track, to detect emotions. I am harder to kill than a vampire. Silver does not affect me."

He remained motionless before me, assessing me, watching me, waiting for me to say more. Did he know there was more? Was he using this opportunity to find out every little secret I held? His silence drew me, drew
from
me, the last of my reserves. I closed my eyes briefly, aware I was about to let the last of my protection go.

"I can walk in shadows. I can hide from plain sight. I can go where others can not. I am getting stronger, more powerful. Lucinda noticed my
Sanguis Vitam
strengthening. I have too. No doubt you have as well. I can be an asset. Killing me would be a mistake."

That's it. I had nothing else to offer. I had just bared my soul to the most powerful vampire in my life. A vampire who had already made his intentions quite clear. He wanted me to join his line, so he could have access to my powers. I didn't want to be subject to his domination, but I would give him access to my skills - on my terms. If he didn't accept this, then I would have to accept the final death.

Ordinarily, I'd say I would go down fighting. But how could I fight back immobilised and broken as I was now? I'd played my final cards, because I had no other defence. In that moment I hated Jett, even as my Dark Shadow appreciated how he had backed me into this corner and forced my hand.

My Dark Shadow could go the fuck to hell.

"You make some very interesting points, vampire." His choice of words let me know how close to the edge of the abyss I was. He wasn't in any way cajoled by my offerings, there would be no smile or softening of features to back his pronouncement up. He was acting as the Master of the City. And
only
as the Master of the City. I was at his mercy and he was making sure I was aware of that fact.

I held his gaze and waited. The ball was firmly in his court. I thought briefly on how my life had brought me to this point. The changes I had recently had to weather. Lucinda. Her Light, her never ending trust in me, belief that I could do this. Walk this Darkened world. I had shut her out, blamed her for where I now was. If things had ended differently, perhaps I would have eventually let her in.

Who was I kidding. I don't think I could ever get to the point where I forgave her. She had made me what I am. I may be trying my damnedest not to meet the final death, but that did not mean I now embraced what I had become. I was still a monster because of her.

And then there was Samson. Once upon a time,
my
Samson. It was clear he wanted that again, but could I forgive him? I had opened myself up to him once, I had let him into my soul and heart. And he hadn't warned me of what hid in the shadows, what could harm me or change me or make me what I now am. He didn't do the deed, but he requested it of his mistress. It was his desire that forced Lucinda to act. To approach her Goddess. It was because of him that Lucinda did what she did.

Both did not deserve my forgiveness. But I could readily admit, while I waited resignedly for Jett to act, that I
did
still love Samson. I just couldn't allow myself to let that emotion back in. So, I pushed it aside. I told myself that even if Jett spared my life now, things would not change. They couldn't. I couldn't let them.

I felt Jett's hand on my shoulder, my eyes sprang open and met the azure blue of his. His face was hard, a warrior's fierce mask. His crooked nose marring the otherwise perfection of power his features portrayed. His long, curly, black hair hung loose around his shoulders. Rather like a cape. It always surprised me that he wore his hair in such a fashion. It was so... old. Just like his keeping blood donors and families of servants. He was an ancient vampire that lived half in the modern world and half in the past. And made no apology for that fact.

"You will bind yourself to me," he said in a low voice laced with
Sanguis Vitam
. If he was trying to command me with his power it was failing. And I have no idea how I was fighting that in my current state.

"You might as well kill me now then, because I will not join your line," I replied steadily.

He smiled. It didn't soften his features one little bit.

"An accord then," he replied.

"We already have one of those," I countered.

"That accord was for you to join my line
after
you solved these cases, or I would divulge your secrets to the
Iunctio
. I propose we change that slightly."

I blinked, not wanting to give away my desperate reaction to his suggestion. I did
not
want to exchange blood again with this man. The last time we sealed an accord, something very wrong happened when our blood mingled. I couldn't explain it, but the Nosferatin in me fervently believed letting that happen again would be a mistake.

"I suggest you join my line now... or I
will
kill you." There was no doubt he meant every word. His jaw was set, his eyes blazed azure and his
Sanguis Vitam
prickled against my skin in an obvious threat.

Despite our previous accord and my agreement to join with him. Despite the fact I had just renounced that agreement, told him I would die first before I ever joined his line. He
still
held my death over my head in exchange for me joining his line. He was either dense or persistent.

I smiled slowly. A multitude of thoughts rampaging through my mind. If I died Kara would be defenceless. But then I knew Samson. I knew how he would react to my death. He would see Kara's continued protection as his responsibility. And even if he lost his head and challenged Jett - something I refused to think too closely on - Lucinda would take up the responsibility in his stead. It pained me to admit I was willing to use their connection - I couldn't say love, I wouldn't allow myself - to me in such a way. But I was prepared to do just that.

Kara would be safe, or as safe as she could be in this world. And I would finally be free.

"Do your worst," I said, hearing the hollow words, but feeling the rightness of them right through to my core.

I caught his momentary flash of surprise, but nothing following. Because he reached forward with a clawed hand, grasped my throat and then there was nothing but black.

I waited for some indication that I was heaven. Or maybe hell. Samson had told me we all go to
Elysium
when we die, but even if I knew Lucinda's Goddess actually existed - I was proof of that - I still hadn't subscribed to an eternal playground for the undead. So I just waited. I wasn't excited or anxious or even a little bit curious. I just was.

Perhaps my acceptance was a sign of how far gone I actually was. Letting Jett kill me was the coward's way out. When Samson had suggested I was courting the final death, I had baulked. But I didn't feel like I had committed suicide here, that I had given up the fight. No, for me it was simple. I had fought the only way I could in the end. I had denied Jett my acquiescence. To me that had taken courage. To me I had won.

The first sign that let me know things were not in any way good, was a feeling of being drained. As though some deep and vital part of me was being sucked away from my very soul. I couldn't label the feeling, only identify what it was. A sucking sensation, a pull on my essence, as though I was being drained dry, like a vampire drinking down life-giving blood. It was an unusual sensation to be on the receiving end of such a feeling. I had been feeding more and more recently. More than I had ever done in the past. I hadn't accepted what I was, but I had damn well allowed that side of me more free rein.