Blood Sense (Blood Destiny #3) Read online

  "It means you are Packmaster for the Boise Pack."

  That shocked me, all right. "Weldon," I said when I got my breath back, "I can't be Packmaster for Boise or any other city. I have to go home in three weeks. There's no way I can do anything from there."

  "The option you have is to name your replacement, and that replacement has to agree and be willing to fight off any challenges that come along from members of that Pack."

  Weldon's words sank in slowly. I didn't know a soul in Boise. I'd never even been introduced to Kellee's mother and I didn't think she'd be charitable enough to hand over a list of names. I had to think about the werewolves I did know, I guess.

  I turned to look at Davis, who sat on my other side. "Davis, would you like the Boise Pack?" Davis' eyebrows rose sharply. Winkler's ears perked up too—I was offering his Second a Pack of his own.

  Weldon looked at Davis over my head. I don't know what silent communication passed between them but Davis smiled slowly at me. "Yeah. I think I would," he grinned.

  "I accept your decision, Packmaster Huston," Weldon said. "Packmaster Davis, I will inform former Packmaster Johnson's Second, and determine if he will serve you or if you should choose another Second."

  "Thank you, Grand Master," Davis inclined his head a little.

  "What am I supposed to do?" Winkler whined a little.

  "That Trajan guy looks capable," I pointed out.

  "Fine," Winkler grumbled.

  "Is this how you show your gratitude to Lissa?" Weldon didn't sound happy with Winkler.

  We all trooped into Winkler's house through the side door and Kellee, hearing the sounds of someone coming inside, skidded to a halt in her socks on the expensive tile in Winkler's kitchen. Her face went dark the minute she saw Winkler and me and the screech that came from her mouth was most likely heard by dogs in bordering states. "No!" She shouted. "Nononononono!" She was stomping her feet while she made a multitude of no's into one long word. Weldon crossed his arms over his chest and waited out her tirade. There was other news he had to deliver and I had no idea how she was going to take that.

  "Kellee, you will sit," Weldon ordered. Kellee called the Grand Master a name. It didn't go over well.

  "Sit!" he shouted. Kellee muttered more obscenities and sat down on a barstool at the kitchen island.

  "What's that bitch doing still alive?" she muttered, giving me a nasty look. That told Weldon part of what he wanted to know—Kellee had known about the attack against me. He wasn't looking charitable, now.

  "Kellee, your father's Second was killed fairly tonight, as you've more than likely determined. What you don't know is that your father tried to attack Winkler's temporary Second after his own Second died. Your father is dead, too, Kellee."

  A look of fury crossed Kellee's face and she rushed the Grand Master. I'm not sure what Weldon would have done but before she could reach him, I placed compulsion. "Stop!" I yelled. Kellee went to a standstill.

  "Sit down," I continued as calmly as I could. Kellee returned to her seat and sat down, her eyes blank. "Weldon, what do you want to do?" I turned to the Grand Master.

  Weldon settled his gaze on me. "Since Kellee conspired to kill you, what is the vampire rule concerning that?"

  "We're allowed to kill if we're threatened or attacked," I said. "But I don't want to do that. She's carrying Winkler's babies. I can place compulsion, instead." I looked Weldon in the eye.

  "Have away," Weldon flung out an arm. I went to stand in front of Kellee.

  Winkler stood in the background, waiting to see what I would do. "You will mourn your father as a daughter should," I said. "You will be respectful of Winkler and all the Dallas Pack," I continued. "You will never raise your hand or conspire against me again, or against the Grand Master, or his family, or anyone in the Sacramento Pack. Do you understand?" Kellee nodded obediently. "You will deliver your children and you will leave them with their father and find a life of your own. You will never speak ill of their father in front of your children, Kellee." She nodded again.

  "Anything you'd like to add?" I turned to Weldon.

  "I think that about covers it," Weldon sighed.

  "Good," I sighed myself. "Go to bed, Kellee. You will have to speak with your mother in the morning." Kellee rose stiffly and went off toward her bedroom.

  "Christ," Davis cursed. "Why didn't you do that for us before?"

  "Because it's unethical," I said. "But she threatened my life and tried to kill me. It's allowable in those cases."

  "Lissa, I welcome the former Boise Packmaster back to the Sacramento Pack," Thomas Williams smiled at me. I went to give him a hug.

  Chapter 13

  My shower was one of the most welcome in my life. Weldon, Thomas and Kipp (Kipp stayed behind while the challenge had taken place) all went to bed while I cleaned up. Weldon was upstairs with me; Thomas and Kipp were downstairs in the same guesthouse. Winkler was sitting on the side of my bed when I came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. I only had one extra set of clothing, along with pajamas. I'd had to buy them the evening before since my bag was still inside the stolen van. I hoped it was in the hands of the FBI now.

  "Lissa, will you sit down and talk with me for a bit?" Winkler asked.

  There was a nice chair in the corner of the bedroom, so I pulled it over to the end of the bed. I didn't want to feel like I was talking to Winkler across a canyon or something. "What's on your mind, Winkler?" I wasn't sure I wanted to have any conversation with Winkler right then—I still had the image of Karl Johnson in my head, his body cut in half and the memory of his eyes losing the light of life as he'd died in front of me. And of R.J., weeping beside his brother's body. I said all that to Winkler, too.

  "Lissa, I watched the light die in my father's eyes, as well."

  "Winkler," I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. Winkler had scars that would never heal. I guess we both did.

  "Baby, you did what you had to do. Just like I did. We are what we are and our races are inherently violent. There's no way around that. Maybe the other female vampires don't have to deal with this sort of thing on a daily basis, but they don't have the talent and the intelligence that you do. Don't let this rule your life, Lissa."

  I had vampires, a whole Council of them, a surrogate sire and a fiancé who ruled my life, whether I wanted them to or not. I didn't have much control over anything. If Gavin, Merrill or Wlodek found out just what I'd done tonight, they'd likely do a little more ruling.

  "Winkler, the one thing I'm generally thankful for regarding the rejuvenating sleep is that I don't dream. It's impossible, apparently. Otherwise, I'd more than likely have nightmares after tonight." I looked across at him. His face was so familiar; I could close my eyes and describe it to anyone. Tonight, he looked hopeful.

  Winkler rose and came to kneel beside my chair. "I think I may have good dreams for the first time in two months," Winkler sighed, lifting my hand and kissing it.

  "How is Kellee's mother going to take this?" I asked, turning my head and looking into Winkler's beautiful, dark eyes.

  "She was so far under Karl's thumb she didn't own a personality," Winkler snorted. "Davis is packing; Weldon already called Karl's Second and he's waiting to meet Davis to see how they get along. If it doesn't work, Davis will pick his own Second."

  "I hope he likes it in Boise and I hope he doesn't get challenged," I said.

  "The Wolf sculpture for Glen's grave will be finished in a couple of months," Winkler said, going off subject for a moment.

  "I hope I didn't get Davis killed by passing Boise off to him."

  "If he hadn't wanted it, he wouldn't have taken it," Winkler shrugged. "He'll be good at it. I've depended on him for a long time. I even came to him when I should have gone to Phil in the past. Lissa?"

  "What, Winkler?"

  "Do you know how much I owe you?"

  "Winkler, I wish you wouldn't worry about that. You're going to be a father. Think about that, okay? I want to see pictur
es of you and those babies, Winkler. Of them riding on their daddy's shoulders and laughing. Go find them a stepmother someday, Winkler. One that loves them for what they are and not how much money you have or how handsome their daddy is." I reached out and ruffled Winkler's black hair a little.

  "What would you have done if I hadn't blackmailed you, Lissa, and forced you to stay when you worked for me?"

  "I don't know. I might have stayed if you asked me. There really wasn't any place for me to go, to be honest. But you had me trapped, didn't you?" I turned my face away from him then.

  "Trapped and then handed right over to Gavin and the Council," Winkler growled.

  "Water under the bridge, Winkler."

  "Will you still be my friend?"

  "Planning on coming all over my clothes again?"

  "Not anytime soon."

  "Then I'll be your friend," I said. "And you owe me a leather blazer."

  * * *

  Winkler's jet flew me straight to D.C.; Weldon was taking a commercial flight back to Grand Forks. Thomas Williams hugged me before I left Dallas and since I still didn't have my bag back it was just me, a few pints of blood in a cooler, my laptop and my cell phone that boarded the jet. Tony picked me up at the airport and drove me straight to Arlington.

  "So, you were Packmaster for a whole thirty seconds," he grinned at me as we walked into his home later.

  "You know, I'm going to stop worrying about how you know all this shit," I said and stalked past him to get to my bedroom. I'd lost my wig when I'd come out of the body bag in New Mexico and my short hair was a little over an inch in length, now.

  "I got this for you," Tony stood in my doorway, a file folder in his hand.

  "What's that?"

  "Information on the kidnappings in Great Britain."

  "Hmmph," I said. "That's old news. They caught the guy."

  "Yes, they did," he grinned. "I thought you might like to read it anyway." I took the folder and dropped it on my bed.

  * * *

  Gavin was spending the day at Wlodek's home since dawn would arrive in half an hour. He sat in his usual seat before Wlodek's replacement desk; this one was also a priceless antique. Gavin had watched silently while Wlodek destroyed the last one in a furious fit of anger.

  "We were too focused on following Sebastian and ignoring the human," Wlodek sighed. Charles was sitting in the chair next to Gavin, tapping notes into his laptop.

  "Sebastian always preferred to work alone," Gavin nodded. "I imagined that the description of the human was a compulsion that he'd placed to throw us off the scent."

  "And it did throw us off," Wlodek agreed. "We concentrated our efforts on Sebastian only, employing our usual investigative techniques. How many humans did you speak with, Gavin, attempting to find information on him?"

  "Many, and placed compulsion on more than a few. None had seen him—that they remembered, anyway." Gavin watched Charles's fingers as his words were printed quickly on the laptop's screen.

  "And the meetings threw us off, too. We had several newly scheduled meetings during the disappearances. Meetings that Sebastian knew nothing of since we were no longer passing information off to him. I never thought to check the dates of the kidnappings against any of the previously scheduled regular meetings. We weren't thinking, Gavin." Wlodek toyed with his gold pen.

  "Lissa was." Gavin growled out the words. "And we had not used many of those caves or abandoned safe houses for centuries—most were no longer habitable and had no electricity. Lissa's questions pointed Charles in that direction. She was solving this from a continent away."

  "That is something that I wish to discuss with you before we retire," Wlodek said. "Lissa orchestrated this from the U.S.; that much is certain. Unfortunately, we cannot encourage her in this as she might consider it our permission to leap into something equally as dangerous next time. Sebastian's disappearance was the final and deciding factor in sending her to the U.S. when we did. I know that normally we would issue a commendation from the Council, in appreciation for assistance rendered in a situation such as this. It will be withheld for the reasons I've mentioned."

  "And the reward money?"

  "You know that a fledgling vampire is never allowed to earn money as an individual during the five years spent with their sire. Merrill is accepting the money and investing it for her."

  "She doesn't know she earned it," Gavin pointed out.

  "Should we tell her, this might also encourage her," Wlodek said, not meeting Gavin's eyes. Gavin disagreed strongly but didn't refute the Honored One's words. "We sent a portion of the reward to the werewolves involved in this. They are setting up a fund for the families of the murdered children."

  "May I speak?" Charles lifted his head.

  "Charles," Wlodek inclined his head slightly, acknowledging his assistant.

  "If Lissa knew about the money, she'd want all of it sent to that fund," Charles said. Gavin stared at the younger vampire, knowing he was right.

  "I know this as well," Wlodek agreed, his nearly black eyes focused on Charles. "Nevertheless, she does not know about the money and will not be informed about the money. Merrill will invest it for her." Wlodek gave Charles a hard look. Charles nodded and went back to his laptop, tapping on keys once more.

  * * *

  "Have you ever been to a State Dinner?" Tony tossed one of my special agent uniforms across the bed when I woke. He's not impatient or anything. I heard his words before I could even crack an eyelid. "And why can't you wake earlier?"

  "If you guys would stop fucking with daylight saving time and just leave it alone," I grumped, unwillingly sliding out of bed.

  I didn't even get a shower. Tony chased me around the bedroom, handing clothing out to me while I ate and dressed. Man, when he was on the job, that's all he was. I felt like smacking him on the head with the folder he'd given me—the one I hadn't bothered to open yet.

  "Your hair is fine," Tony grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the house. A car was running in the driveway and Agent Bill Jennings was waiting inside the car with the driver.

  "Nice to see you, Bill," I said, sliding into the back seat with Tony. Bill was up front in the passenger seat and offered me a handsome smile as I buckled up. The driver left rubber, I think, getting us out of the driveway. Geez, we were in a hurry.

  "Lissa, wear this," Bill handed an earpiece, along with a small device of some sort, over the seat. Tony had to show me what to do with all of it. The earpiece went in my ear while the tiny transmitter/receiver was clipped to my lapel. Tony showed me how to adjust the volume and put it on the lowest setting for me. I wouldn't need more than that—he and I both knew it. This was the first time I'd been wired for anything and wondered what I'd be hearing. There was a good chance it wasn't Secret Service jokes.

  "We're not giving you the ability to send anything, that requires a third piece," Tony informed me, straightening my jacket a little. "You should have heard the head of the Secret Service squeal when we wanted to do this much." Tony smiled a little. He was dressed in a tux again and looked really good. Dinner with the Prez brought the monkey suits out, I guess.

  Bill was dispatched to the State Dining Room; Tony and I went toward the living quarters to pick up the President and the First Lady. They're hosting the President of France, Tony sent to me as I trotted to keep up with him and two Secret Service agents we'd picked up along the way.

  Parlez-vous Francais? I returned.

  Oui was the only word I understood of the spate of French he rattled off.

  Okay. You heard the only French I know, I grumped mentally. Maybe I should invest in language lessons.

  You need to learn, was his terse answer as we came to the door of the First Family's living quarters. Two more guards stood outside it. Tony may have been pissed when the President and his wife both said hello and smiled at me, all while ignoring him. Who knew that a sing-along in the back seat of their limo would put us on a near first name basis? I told the First Lady she
looked amazing and she did. The President teased and asked if I wasn't obligated to compliment him, too.

  "Not with your wife standing right there, sir," I said, and smiled. He laughed. Tony was completely stiff as we walked down the hallway toward the dining room. Now I knew why his boss had sent him on a forced vacation the year before. He was in desperate need of another one, I think.

  The minute we entered the dining room, I picked up all kinds of chatter on my earpiece. The President and First Lady went forward to greet the President of France and they talked while Tony sent me toward the door. Stay outside the door and make sure nothing comes in, he commanded. I went to make sure nothing came in the door. Something sure had Tony worried—he was more nervous than a typewriter sitting next to a computer. The dinner went well, I think. The French President, accompanied by the French Ambassador, sat at the President's table and they chatted all evening long. I didn't get to see any of it from my position outside the door. I might have taken a close look at the portrait of Abraham Lincoln over the fireplace if I could have explored a little. Nothing came in while I was on guard and since I was facing outward, I never saw the First Lady get up from her seat to visit the powder room.

  Two female Secret Service Agents went with her. There was a powder room through the butler's pantry and if a vampire is mist, they can get in there and hang out for a long time. Nobody will notice them, including the security team doing sweeps. The door to the outside hall past the butler's pantry was locked and guarded but that didn't keep a huge vampire mister who'd come back to corporeality from bursting right through it, carrying the First Lady along like a rag doll. The two female agents had compulsion laid and they were still inside the pantry, blinking stupidly when all hell broke loose inside the dining room. Tony was shouting, both mentally and physically, for me to help. I was running in immediately to find him and a very upset President inside.

  Guests were shunted off to the side of the dining room by a handful of agents while others had guns drawn and were running toward the butler's pantry. "Get us out there, Lissa!" Tony shouted, grabbing the President's arm. Was he crazy, asking to take the President with us? I suppose the man didn't want to stay behind so I went to mist, grabbed Tony and the President both and not even bothering with doors, went right through walls until we caught up with the vampire and the First Lady.