Blood Domination (Blood Destiny #4) Read online

  BLOOD DOMINATION

  Blood Destiny book 4

  by Connie Suttle

  For the usual suspects: Walter, Joe, and the readers who have stuck with me so far.

  Thank you.

  Blood Domination, e-edition

  Copyright © 2009 by Connie Suttle

  This e-book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents portrayed within its digital pages are purely fictitious and a product of the author's often warped imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Other books by Connie Suttle

  (Blood Destiny Series)

  Blood Wager

  Blood Passage

  Blood Sense

  Blood Domination

  Blood Royal*

  *Forthcoming, November, 2011

  There is a great deal of power in the universe, much of which rests within our minds. The ability to deny or accept anything lies inside us—CS

  Chapter 1

  Jovana was beautiful. Xenides hated her. If not for a command given by his now-deceased sire, Xenides would have killed her long ago. Instead, Saxom had instructed his eldest to keep Jovana alive and hidden, as she might be useful in Xenides' war against the Vampire Council.

  "You should do this for me—in our sire's memory and with no compensation," Xenides growled. Xenides sat on a Louis XVI sofa in Jovana's private quarters. Jovana's Paris apartment was tastefully decorated in antiques, many of which Saxom had given her. He'd collected many things throughout his lengthy life and now Jovana had enough to keep her into the next century. She wasn't satisfied with that, however. She had expensive tastes and only wore the best in designer clothing. Therefore, she often agreed to the odd assignment for Xenides. For a healthy fee, of course.

  "Our sire is dead and compulsion is merely a joke to me," Jovana murmured, rising to gaze out a window. Evenings in Paris appealed to her and were the deciding factor in her choice of living quarters. Lucius had taken her for his lover long ago, and he'd never informed anyone that Jovana wasn't susceptible to compulsion. Saxom had known it anyway, and together he and Jovana had killed Lucius before Saxom made her vampire. She'd agreed willingly to the turn—after all, her beauty was fading away and she worried that Lucius would leave her behind. She'd risen a Queen Vampire, just as Saxom knew she would, and she'd created havoc at Saxom's bidding for more than two hundred years.

  "Jovana, our sire left me in charge of his wealth for a reason," Xenides pointed out maliciously.

  "So you could keep me under your thumb," Jovana snorted, turning back to her vampire sibling. "He knew I would walk away from you and your foolishness if he didn't."

  "You could sell what you own and keep yourself for a very long time," Xenides snapped.

  "Of course I will not sell my things. This is mine," Jovana swept out a hand. "And I deserved a fair share of our sire's wealth when he died. You refused to give it to me."

  "I will pay for your services as always, Jovana," Xenides sighed. "How much this time for your assistance in capturing the little princess?"

  "You should be glad I have no feelings for you, Xenides," Jovana huffed. "Else I would be quite jealous. You talk of her too often."

  "You have no reason to be jealous. I only wish to utilize her talents, as you are so reluctant to do so."

  "Of course I am reluctant. You fail to see the ignorance in this quest. You should allow me to kill the little bitch and be done with it."

  "You will not kill her, and avenging our sire's death is not ignorance," Xenides hissed, his eyes turning so deep a red they were nearly black.

  "No need to be angry, Xenides. I will do this for you." Jovana inspected a well-manicured hand. "Six million will suffice until the next assignment."

  "Then I suggest you don't spend it in one place, Jovana. As soon as I have the little female under compulsion, you and I will part ways."

  "Where and when?" Jovana ignored Xenides' threat.

  "Don't worry; I'll bring her to you. You won't have to leave your precious city behind."

  "What about the Council?" Jovana didn't bother to hide the contempt in her voice. After all, Wlodek always treated her coldly and ignored her advances.

  "I have my own plans where they're concerned," Xenides replied. "I intend to kill Wlodek and then watch the others scatter like the frightened vermin they are. I will only contact you again if the situation becomes dire. You are dead weight to me, Jovana, and without your particular talents, you would be completely worthless."

  "Please, see yourself out," Jovana snarled, turning her back on Xenides. "I shall expect the transfer of funds in two days."

  Xenides didn't bother with a farewell; he merely slammed the door so hard on his way out the wood split. Jovana cursed at his retreating back.

  * * *

  "She hasn't looked at that."

  Griffin glanced at Merrill, who leaned back in his chair. Griffin studied the Medal of Freedom lying in his hand, his fingers tracing the contours of enameled metal. Lissa received it from the President of the United States and hadn't bothered to look at it or to read the enclosed letter the President had written. The commendation remained sealed inside an envelope and lay on a corner of Merrill's desk.

  "I don't know that I blame her," Griffin sighed, settling the medal inside its case.

  "She's down to half a pint of blood a day. Gavin almost refused to leave on assignment due to Lissa's depression, which angered Wlodek, of course. Wlodek is threatening to come here himself and place compulsion if she doesn't straighten up. Those are his words, not mine." Merrill picked up his new letter opener and examined it. Lissa had given it to him; it was a replica of a Roman sword and he had no idea if she'd known what an appropriate gift it was when she purchased it for him.

  "Tell Wlodek he doesn't have to come," Griffin closed the velvet case and returned it to Merrill's desk with a sigh. "Let's go wake her."

  * * *

  I have no explanation for Griffin, or why he shows up when he does. He was there, Merrill standing right behind him, when I woke one evening. It was five weeks after I discovered that Tony had taken my blood to use in experiments, consequently giving six men a fatal disease. He'd used me as a weapon. It was like stealing a gun and going out to commit a terrible crime. Only in this instance, my blood was killing innocent people. That bothered me more than I can say and lowered me into an energy-sucking depression.

  "Do you know that it's Sunday, June twenty-seventh?" Griffin smiled down at me and lifted a stray lock of hair off my forehead. That was the only thing that was going right at the moment. My hair was now more than three inches in length. If I'd been myself, I might have asked Merrill if I could go to a salon and get it cut and styled. It probably looked a bit shaggy.

  Griffin's words depressed me even more. Those poor men that Tony and his research biologist experimented on had seven weeks to live. I had no idea how ill they might become before death came to claim them. How could Tony approve these experiments on humans so quickly? It made no sense to me. Now, six men lay in a hospital somewhere, fighting a disease they'd contracted with an administration of my blood. I knew they were suffering and that made me feel worse. Tony had only given a first name for the research biologist behind this debacle; he'd called him Larry. I thought of him as Larry the lizard, but that was giving lizards everywhere a bad name.

  "Little girl, none of this is your fault. You need to stop thinking about that." Griffin's fingers touched my cheek. His hands were so warm against my skin. I'd felt cold—very, very cold—for the past five weeks. Griffin's talent for reading my thoughts hadn't diminished or gone away, either. Normally, that would arouse my curiosity and I might tur
n my attention to discovering how he did that. Not now.

  "We're going to fix that," Griffin smiled gently as light formed around the fingers touching my cheek.

  * * *

  "Franklin and Greg are coming; I've made arrangements for Greg to receive his chemotherapy treatments at a nearby clinic," Merrill informed me. Griffin had done something and hadn't tried to hide it from me, either. He explained carefully that he couldn't bear to watch me waste away when there wasn't any need for it. I felt better and I didn't know whether I wanted to thank Griffin or curse him for that. Merrill handed a bag of blood to me afterward and they'd both watched me drink. Griffin never blinked as I consumed my normal two-thirds of a pint. He left shortly afterward and Merrill wrote a note for Lena, asking her to pick up an electric mattress pad for me in London the following week. Griffin knew I felt cold and passed that information to Merrill.

  "Lissa, sweetheart, Charles will come tomorrow evening and drive you into London so you can get your hair done," Merrill touched fingers lightly to my strawberry blonde curls. If my hair is shorter, it curls. It only straightens out if I keep it longer and it had been long—past my shoulders long—before I'd attempted to kill myself in the sun last February.

  "That sounds like so much fun for him," I grumped. There wasn't any way, though, that Merrill or any of the others would let me out of their sight without an escort.

  "He finds it quite enjoyable; he has asked every other day if he could take you for an outing."

  "Poor Charles. He needs to get a life," I said.

  "Have you ever wanted a brother, sweetheart? Charles wants that role, I think." I blinked up at Merrill as he spoke those words.

  "Really?" I'd never had anything like that. My face fell immediately. A brother was someone who would keep your secrets. I would never have that luxury with Charles.

  "Lissa, most things you could tell Charles. He does not carry everything he hears directly to Wlodek, you know. Charles has an insatiable curiosity, but he also knows how to keep secrets."

  He knew I wouldn't consider confiding in Charles from my expression. "My poor baby." Merrill gently touched my cheek. "Franklin and Greg will arrive on Wednesday. When you go to London, please purchase welcoming gifts from both of us." Merrill smiled and removed his hand. I still had my ID and credit card, plus a little cash, but Merrill had my cell phone and laptop again. I realized he didn't want any communication between Tony and me. Well, I didn't want any communication between Tony and me. What I did want, however, was communication with the Grand Master, Weldon Harper. I wanted to check in with him, thank him again for getting Paul the werewolf policeman to help with the child kidnapping case and see how his grandchild was doing. Daryl Harper, Jr. was cute as a button.

  I also needed to contact my Packmaster, Thomas Williams, in Sacramento just to let him know I was still around. Merrill must have been on my wavelength, just as Griffin had been. "Buy yourself a new cell phone and computer, Lissa. Charles can help you with those things. He's technologically inclined."

  I nodded. Merrill and I were in the kitchen; that seemed to be the best place to have conversations for some reason. He and I were the only ones in the house—Lena had already left before I'd gotten out of bed for the evening. She was still doing housekeeping chores, but since Franklin had been out of the country, she didn't eat dinner at Merrill's manor. Lena went home instead to her family in a nearby town, between Luddesdown and London. The drive to London nearly every day had gotten to be too much so a move was made at Merrill's suggestion.

  "May I borrow your computer?" I asked. I wanted to go online and get some shopping ideas for Greg and Franklin.

  "As long as you don't attempt to contact Mr. Hancock." That brought a loud and indignant gasp from me. "I should know better," Merrill said and smiled.

  * * *

  I still had the gift cards to the bookstore that I'd gotten for Greg and Franklin. I hadn't had an opportunity to give them away and Charles and I were now browsing through an electronics store for a new cell phone and computer after I'd gotten my haircut. The stylist had trimmed and shaped; consequently, my hair looked much better. Charles and I were currently examining laptops; Charles was completely happy doing this, I could tell. He and the sales geek were having an intense conversation over things that sailed right past me regarding the laptops on display.

  "You'll like this one," Charles pointed out the laptop he'd been discussing with the sales kid—he looked like a kid to me, anyway. The laptop wasn't huge, was another Mac, (that was my stipulation) and cost around three thousand pounds. In my human life that would have been out of the question. Now, money just flew out of my hand, or Merrill's bank account, as it were. The cell phone was next; it was a replacement iPhone, and then we bought several computer games and a tablet that either Greg or Franklin could hold in their hands or set on the kitchen counter and play games and check email. I also bought a program for Franklin's laptop that would keep recipes on file and categorized so he could get to them easily, plus a shopping list option where Frank could put his grocery lists. I hoped he liked it.

  Charles picked out a word processing program and a couple other things for my computer; we got the cell phone set up and the clerk got my new programs loaded into the laptop before we ever left the store. That was nice. Charles and I went to a bar for our usual glass of wine afterward and Charles called Bryan Riley on the way, asking if he wanted to meet us. Bryan walked into the bar shortly after Charles and I arrived.

  "Bryan!" I was both surprised and pleased to see him. He took a chance and gave me a hug, then sat down next to me in the booth.

  "I heard something, Charles, as I was leaving the studio tonight," Bryan said, before turning to tell the waitress what he wanted.

  "What's that?" Charles ran a finger around the rim of his wineglass.

  "It should hit the news tomorrow, but all the manufacturers of the flu vaccine are destroying what they've made up this year and are being forced to start over at the last minute. This will create a panic, as you might imagine. In addition to that, we couldn't get a verifiable reason for the vaccine dump from our sources. We have feelers out for estimated deaths due to a vaccine shortage."

  "I wish they could keep that quiet," I muttered. Xenides, along with his best buddy terrorist, Rahim Alif, had succeeded in introducing vampire DNA into the flu vaccine, just as I said. Now, I hoped the people most vulnerable would be able to get vaccinated with untainted drugs. I shivered, thinking about what might happen if they didn't. Health organizations across the globe were predicting a serious flu epidemic come the fall season.

  "What do you know about that?" Bryan turned sharply to stare at me.

  "Bryan, I wish I could tell you, but I can't," I sighed. "How many deaths worldwide do you think might be attributed to an insufficient amount of flu vaccine?"

  "There's no way to tell for certain; flu season won't come for another two months," he shrugged. "September is the month recommended to get the vaccine. I've heard some serious numbers tossed about, but they're only guessing at this point. And we don't know how much of the vaccine the manufacturers will be able to replace between now and then." Bryan thanked the waitress when she set a wine glass down in front of him.

  "Crap," I said, rubbing my forehead. I was wishing at that moment that the wine I was drinking would have an effect on me. If so, I'd order an entire bottle of the stuff and get blitzed.

  "Lissa, this is out of our control," Charles reached for my hand across the table. I hesitated for a few seconds and then placed my fingers inside his. He offered an encouraging smile. "Just repeat after me: I can't do anything about this, so I shouldn't worry," he said.

  "That's easy for you to say," I informed him tartly.

  "It is easy for me to say," he grinned. "Just watch my lips." He repeated his statement.

  "Why are you worrying over this?" Bryan studied my face carefully—he was in the news business, after all. He sensed a story; I just couldn't give it to him.

&
nbsp; "Lissa thinks the world's troubles are hers," Charles replied for me, squeezing my fingers gently before letting them go.

  "Not all of them," I said, sipping my wine. "I can't do anything about flying saucers or cockroaches. Or even flying saucers driven by cockroaches."

  "Seen large alien cockroaches, have you?" Bryan was smiling, now.

  "I've seen some pretty big ones. I saw some in Georgia that were filing complaints with the FCC. They were upset because their antennae couldn't get television reception after everything went digital. I hear lawyers are filing class action suits on their behalf." I hadn't felt like teasing anyone in a long time.

  "Is that what they use their antennae for?" Bryan chuckled.

  "That—and communicating with the mother ship," I said. We talked and laughed a little longer, until I recalled something Bryan said when I'd first met him.

  "Bryan, you mentioned the Aristocracy when I met you before," I said. "Can you explain that to me?"

  "I can explain it," Charles offered. He looked around, just to make sure we wouldn't be overheard. "More than six hundred years ago, five hundred of the oldest and most powerful vampires decided to form the Council and hammer out the laws," his voice was hushed. "The wolves were reproducing faster than we ever could, and that was part of the reason we formed our own government. The wolves were already organized under a Grand Master and back then, they were based in Europe. The race war was disorganized, at least on our part. The five hundred agreed that we would be annihilated if we kept up our habit of isolation. The Council was formed and the oldest known vampire became its Head. The original five hundred were known as the Aristocracy after that. Of course, some of the original members are dead, so the Council chooses vampires to take the vacancies when they occur. Gavin is one of the original five hundred."