Blood Ties Page 2

  "I hoped you'd have an appointment open tonight so we wouldn't have to delay."

  "I have one spot left.” Adrian had definitely honed his ability to look a person straight in the eye and lie without a blink. “But I wouldn't mention it to Charlie. He'd charge you an arm and a leg. Where's your bathroom?"

  "Third door on the left down the hall."

  Disappearing into the bathroom, Adrian stripped off his clothes and put on the ritual robe. A guide couldn't wear manmade fabrics as it restricted the energy flow, so it had to be cotton. When he returned to the living room, Rich handed him a photo of his mother. Many guides used a personal representation of the deceased; Adrian didn't, but could work with it anyway. Opening the jar of salt and earth, he slowly poured a small circle around him. The circle was nothing more than a defined shield. Once activated, it kept any other influences out and contained Adrian's power to the immediate area. It could also serve as a trap for ghosts unwillingly to be there, if one had the power to invoke it.

  Adrian gestured for Richie's mother to join him. She glided over to him, and Adrian closed the circle. “Are you ready, ma'am?"

  He took her nod as a yes. Crouching down, he used his dagger to make a small cut in his palm and let the blood drip at five points as he moved around the salt circle. Blood was the catalyst that triggered his own energy. There was a lot of power in blood if a person knew how to tap into it. He didn't have to spill his own blood if he didn't want to. A relative's blood or even animal blood would do. Unfortunately, his vials of blood were low, and his new supply was supposedly in the mail. At least, that was what he'd been told when he'd called the company.

  A high level of energy crackled around him and blue flames moved erratically within the circle. They touched the five spots of blood before they shot forward to surround Mrs. Carson. Kneeling in front of a silver bowl, Adrian picked up the picture and tore it into small pieces. After dropping them into the bowl, he lit the pile with his lighter and began the ritual. He softly intoned the first of five different invocations. Some guides added a lot of mumbo jumbo, depending on their religious slant. Adrian believed in God, but saved the speeches for the politicians.

  Rich stood outside the circle, completely silent the whole time. As his mother's form began to fade, Adrian heard him whisper, “I love you, Mother. Goodbye."

  Adrian could tell from the set expression on Rich's face that he didn't want her to leave. With a quiet “Thank you,” she disappeared. It was always the hardest part for the family to get through. After dealing with the initial grief death brings, it was hard to face having to let somebody go again.

  Closing his eyes, Adrian drew the unleashed energy back in. Doing the ritual fourteen times in one night wasn't too bad, but it tired him. He covered the bowl and latched the lid, then put the rest of his things away in his backpack. He never stayed around long after completing a ritual. As fast as he could, Adrian changed back into his street clothes. Giving Rich a small smile, Adrian left him to his grief without saying another word.

  By 3:30, he reached Gray's house and went inside without even knocking. Adrian knew Gray would be in his home office, so he headed straight down the hallway and into the small, cramped room. Adrian stopped in front of the desk and waited for Gray to notice him. Gray was on the high side of forty and a decent guy, a bit rough around the edges, but a by-the-book mayor's sidekick and always in a suit. How could he stand it?Adrian would have been digging at the tie within two minutes.

  Gray had worked with Adrian's dad, and Adrian had practically grown up with Gray. The man's short, peppered hair gave the squared features an extremely professional look. The dark gray business suit he wore had seen better days, and it hung loosely on his sturdy frame. At six foot five inches, Gray was definitely an intimidating man, even behind the desk.

  He finally looked up, and Adrian knew that look. Double damn, it wasn't good.

  Adrian made himself comfortable in one of the chairs. He really hated that expression on Gray's face, but waited patiently for Gray to tell him what was going on.

  "Got another job for you.” Gray could be quite a chatty fellow under normal circumstances, so his shortened speech pattern was not a good sign.

  "Bad?” Adrian already knew it was, but it didn't hurt to ask and hope it wasn't.

  "Bad enough."

  "How bad?"

  Gray shrugged.

  "Worse than I've seen so far?"

  "Yeah."

  Adrian had seen some sick things. If this beat them, it would definitely be an ‘I want to run like hell’ experience. Sighing, he just nodded. “What time you want me there?"

  "Four this afternoon. I'll meet you at Southside Park in the parking lot."

  If Gray would be there, it meant Adrian would have a hand on his shoulder. No, it wasn't good at all. “I'll be there, Gray. Are there any personal items I can use?"

  "One.” Long-winded Gray wasn't.

  Sighing again, Adrian gave up any questioning on the matter. “Would you mind coming into work early tomorrow for me? Charlie's got a longer list than usual."

  Gray had a part time job with Adrian. He was a seer, too, but like Rich, he preferred the political field. Adrian thought Gray worked with him to keep an extra eye on him, but he let that one slide. In exchange, Gray could call on Adrian to work any oddball happenings in the city.

  "I'll be there at eight."

  "I'll see you at four, then.” Standing, he left Gray's house, considering his to do list for the coming day. He already had the usual ten appointments booked, plus the 4 o'clock with Gray, and Charlie wanted a meeting at 7:30. Throw in any extra ghosts that might wander his way, and he had another busy day. He breezed through the open all night grocery store and made it home before dawn; that made him happy.

  The guy standing by his apartment door didn't make Adrian happy. He was definitely a vampire. Most times, they looked normal. No deathly pale or cold skin if they had fed recently. A flash of fang was what usually gave them away to normal people. I should have been normal.

  For those who could see the dead, you could easily spot a vamp, well-fed or not. Dead was dead, even if it had a body that moved around.

  Burdened by the bag of groceries, Adrian just gave the vamp the eye and stood his ground about ten feet away, praying the vampire didn't try to put him under. He'd be lost because there wasn't a ghost nearby to bail him out.

  "Mr. Debrett?” The two words had a kind of seductive roll that made Adrian blink. Do they go to school to learn this stuff?

  "What do you want?"

  "Prince Garland wishes you to meet him at midnight at the Sang Erotique.” He gave a polite bow with the request. “Do you know where it is?"

  'Wishes’ served as a euphemism for ‘demand’ in this case, but let the little mortals keep their illusions. Fuck, Adrian was in for it; he'd be willing to bet if he didn't say he'd be there, the vampire would try to put him under or forcefully take him there.

  "Tell him I'll be there. I know where it is.” The club mentioned was the latest craze among vampire lovers and the headquarters for Garland. Adrian moved to the door and shoved the key in the lock, totally dismissing the other guy. The vampire got the hint and, when Adrian looked back over his shoulder, the guy had vanished.

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  Chapter 3

  Four in the afternoon did not find Adrian bright and chipper. It found him at Southside Park, about to undergo something that made him want to run like hell, screaming all the way there. Gee, I get another repeat performance at midnight. I feel so special.

  Gray stood beside him, handing Adrian a small piece of material. His hair was ruffled by a slight breeze as it moved through the grass and trees. The grim look on Gray's face told Adrian again he didn't want to do this, so Adrian took a deep breath and muttered, “Let's get it over with."

  Being part fae gave Adrian the ability of veiled sight. He'd been strictly forbidden by his mother to mention that little fact, so he had always passe
d it off as an odd quirk of his guide power. Adrian rubbed his finger over the small piece of material as he stared at it. Pink and definitely flannel, Adrian guessed it had to be a piece of the victim's nightgown.

  If the spirit hadn't gone on, he could call her. If she had, he could call up the memory of whatever had happened here, and Gray would share the vision. Adrian stared ahead into the group of trees, vaguely aware of Gray putting a hand on his shoulder. The touch connected them and allowed Gray to see whatever Adrian saw. The first time Adrian had called up a vision for Gray, Gray had touched him. One of those macho ‘if he can, I can too’ actions. After that, Adrian thought it was more of a sympathetic thing, but he never asked, and Gray never said.

  When the memory first appeared, Adrian could barely make out a figure moving toward them through the trees. He readied his pencil to begin sketching, then focused on the man coming closer to them. Finally he could make out the guy's features, and Adrian started getting the details needed. Looking away, he began drawing quickly on the pad.

  When Adrian's gaze returned to the figure, he stood less than five feet away. At first Adrian's brain refused to register what the guy had dangling from his hands. Adrian blinked rapidly. What the hell?

  In his right hand, he held a little girl by the hem of her nightgown, her limp body dangling in mid air. His other hand held onto an infant by its leg. The sight sent shock rushing through Adrian as he stared at them in disbelief. Blood drenched the girl's gown, turning most of its color from pink to red. She couldn't have been more than two, and she was definitely dead. Several tears in the material of the gown showed slash marks on her flesh, and the infant was in the same shape.

  "I hate you, Gray,” Adrian muttered fiercely. It was either say that, or scream. He didn't want to see this.

  "Concentrate on the man, Debrett. Give me his face,” Gray whispered back to him, Gray's free hand clenched tightly to his side. Both of them had to still the urge to react to the images. From experience, they both knew it wouldn't do any good; nobody could stop what had already happened.

  Swallowing convulsively against the tightening in his throat, Adrian dragged his gaze back to the guy's face. The man tossed the infant toward some bushes as Adrian memorized his face. Adrian narrowed his concentration to focus solely on capturing the bastard on the paper as the man dumped the little girl.

  The smile on his lips made Adrian want to hit him. Adrian's hand added the details, fleshing out his face until the man disappeared from the field of memory. Adrian worked rapidly over the sketch. He wasn't taking this one home to flesh out; Gray would have it before he went back to his office. That face would give Adrian nightmares; he already knew it. Nausea started to well up, but Adrian swallowed it down until he finished his work. He tore the sheet from the pad, thrusting it at Gray, then promptly upchucked his lunch on the pristine grass. When he was done, Adrian wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “Whatever the hell is going on, I hope you get this bastard."

  After that, Adrian walked away. Now all he wanted to do was go home and soak in a hot tub or hide under his blanket; either worked for him. But no, he did four of his appointments, listened to Charlie drone on for an hour at his meeting, and then took care of six more of his appointments in time for his midnight meeting with Garland. Adrian's luck held out, and a ghost approached him between his appointments. The wraith, whose name was Sasha, agreed to a night of riding after Adrian explained the situation. He didn't want to come face to face with Garland unprotected.

  Sasha rode inside him when he parked in the lot next to the club promptly at midnight. It figures I'd be on time when I don't want to be.

  Adrian made his way past the crowd lined up outside the door; it was full of the usual wannabe types: Goth garb, plastic fangs, and all. Apparently, the club was a popular place, and people liked the chance to hang out with vampires. Adrian couldn't see the attraction, himself.

  The bouncer at the door looked like he'd been a gorilla in his previous life. Stepping in front of him, Adrian said, “Adrian Debrett. I'm here to see Garland."

  The gorilla's head jerked toward the door, and Adrian took that as a sign to go in. Ignoring the jeers coming from the line, he opened the door and stepped in.

  The club was decorated predominantly in black with silver and red accents, and packed with wall-to-wall people. It surprised him as he'd expected something far more vulgar, not Better Bars and Gardens. Weaving around the bodies, Adrian headed to the bar to ask one of the bartenders where Garland was. Halfway across the room, a woman grabbed his arm and brought him up short.

  "Well, well, well, the mortal everyone is so concerned about.” The mocking smirk on her face gave Adrian his second reason to want to punch somebody today.

  "Get the hand off my arm, lady.” Adrian wasn't in the mood for fun and games, and if she tried anything funny, he could have her up on charges. She must not have cared as she decided to toy with him anyway. In a flash she struck out, her sharp nails catching at the side of his throat, slicing him.

  Adrian felt the stinging pain, and in reaction his foot shot out, cracking her in the kneecap. Female or not, he wasn't about to stand there and let her kill him.

  She let go of him to grab at her knee, and Adrian jumped back, waiting warily for her next move. Before he could blink, Garland and Indy were there, and they didn't look happy. Oh, this is great.

  Grabbing the blonde in what looked like a bruising grip, Garland dragged her back, then shoved her toward Indy. “Take Trisha to my office and keep her there."

  Trisha limped away, scowling, but she was already healing so Adrian wasn't worried. It was himself he worried about. Bleeding from the neck in a room full of vamps wasn't good. He fished some Kleenex out of his pocket, dabbing at the wounds. Trisha had just been playing with him.

  "My apologies, Adrian.” Garland took a hold of Adrian's hand and pulled it back so he could see how bad the wounds were. “I can heal that for you, if you wish."

  Yeah, right, like I would let him lick my neck; I'll live with the scars. Vampires could heal wounds by licking them; it had to be magic saliva or something. That explained why they could put two holes in someone and leave no mark after they finished feeding. “I'm fine. It only hurts a bit. Just tell me where the bathroom is."

  Garland gestured toward the left side of the bar counter. “Please join me at my table when you're through."

  Adrian wanted to say “Do I have to?” It was a better idea to take care of his neck first. Making it to the bathroom, he wet some paper towels and dabbed at his neck to get rid of the blood. Trisha had taken some of his skin with her, but he'd heal. Thankfully, the wounds weren't bleeding anymore. After he threw the paper towels into the trash, he returned to the main area and made it to Garland's table without further incident.

  As Adrian sat down across from Garland, he watched the three dancers gyrating for a moment on the stage. Glancing back at Garland, Adrian tried to wait him out to see what he had to say.

  On looks alone, a person would melt at the sight of Garland. Hair so black it had bluish tints, its length curled slightly just beneath his collar. The strands falling along the side of his face made Adrian itch to touch it.

  My, it feels warm in here. Adrian mentally slapped his hand and got down to business. “What did you want to talk to me about, Garland?"

  A graceful gesture of his hand motioned to the place beside him. “Are you sure you wouldn't rather sit here, Adrian? I can tell you would like to be closer."

  The sound of Garland's voice felt like soft velvet over Adrian's senses. There has to be a school to learn to do that.

  "Why am I here?"

  The full force of a half-lidded gaze from Garland's warm, translucent eyes made Adrian feel like they had done something naughty already. “It seems we have a problem, Adrian."

  Why do I feel like I'm drowning? Adrian shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. “Problem? What problem?"

  "You resisted my control last night, Adrian. That
would be the problem. Most of my court want you dead.” Garland lightened the sensual tone enough for Adrian to understand the issue at hand.

  Fear crashed down on Adrian's head, instantly clearing the cobwebs away, but he managed to keep it from showing in his face. What can I say? Not too damn much.

  "I can smell your fear. No reason to hide it.” Garland's smile quirked slightly wider, and the effect of his voice raised goose bumps on Adrian's arms.

  "So why am I here and not dead?” Adrian finally found the question to ask; sometimes it took him a while.

  "Because I have another option for you. It would be a pity to see your body drained.” The weight of Garland's stare drifting downward had Adrian squirming slightly in his seat with the feeling he sat naked in front of Garland.

  "What other option?” Good, I can still talk. Options are good, it beats being dead.

  "You will be my ghoul; it's that simple, Adrian."

  Adrian stared at Garland, aghast; Garland reacted by raising his brow. “The position of my Favored One is not given lightly."

  Ghoul? Suck his blood? That's not an option; it's a nightmare. A ghoul was someone who drank a vamp's blood, something Adrian didn't want to be. He wasn't up enough on vampire politics to know what a Favored One meant, but the rest didn't appeal to him. To be at Garland's beck and call wasn't his notion of a fun date, and vampire blood was more addictive than any street drug could ever be. Adrian opened his mouth to say “No, thank you."

  Garland must have known what the answer would be because he held up his hand for silence. “You would gain a portion of my power, Adrian, along with strength and speed. You will not even age as long as I continue to feed you every week. It's not a bad bargain."

  "And what do you get out of it? Besides a slave, that is,” Adrian asked, not one quaver in his voice.

  "Please call me Gabriel.” He paused long enough to give Adrian a considering look. “I will give you two nights to consider my option. After that, I cannot guarantee your safety.” He completely ignored Adrian's question, which didn't surprise Adrian.