Blood Sense (Blood Destiny #3) Read online

  "Other than that, honey, how are you?" I asked when he wound down. Gavin was silent for several seconds.

  "I am well," he grumbled. "See that you do not leave your phone behind again or borrow someone else's. I know there was some way you could have kept in touch, Lissa."

  "Of course. You're right, honey. I'll make sure next time."

  "See that you do." He hung up abruptly, so I ended the call with a heavy sigh.

  "He should treat you better," Tony grumbled.

  "We don't always get what we want," I said, slipping my phone into a pocket of my jeans. "Do you want dinner?"

  "Lissa, I already snacked around; we have work to do tonight."

  "All right. Where are we going?"

  "We're taking a trip to Georgia. We'll be there for a few days so pack a bag, all right? I've already made arrangements to have blood delivered to our hotel. It's secure, we'll have guards around us and nobody will be asking questions."

  "Great," I muttered and went to pack.

  A driver picked us up and drove to the airport where a jet waited. Someone else was there to load our luggage. Tony's bag had already been packed when I woke for the evening; he'd just waited until we had our brief encounter to inform me we were going somewhere else. I recognized one of the two men who flew with us, other than the pilot and co-pilot. He was one of the human agents who'd been with Tony in Kansas City. At least he wasn't one of the two who'd worn sunglasses indoors and at night. He was the one, however, who'd pulled his jacket back to reveal the weapon he carried in a shoulder holster. Now he watched me suspiciously until I stared back at him. He turned his head when I did that. I sent mindspeech to Tony.

  Was the goon necessary? I asked.

  Tony sat quietly in a seat across the aisle from me, tapping away on a laptop. None of the rules applies to Tony; he was sending emails. He lifted his head but didn't turn in my direction.

  Lissa, I normally travel with at least three. This is a compromise, he returned.

  Fine, I sent back and was silent the remainder of the flight.

  Goon was directing traffic as soon as we landed in Atlanta. He yelled at the limo driver who'd come to meet us. The poor driver was scared witless because he hadn't gotten close enough to the jet after we came to a stop. Who knew? I guess there's a manual somewhere, listing rules on precisely how close to park next to the plane. Tony didn't interfere; he just packed up his laptop and followed me off the jet. The driver helped load our bags into the trunk; goon had two, Tony and I had one each. Maybe the goon carried all his guns, Tasers and portable cannons in the second bag.

  "What's his name or is that top secret?" I asked Tony as he slid into the back seat of the car with me. The goon, dissatisfied with the driver's packing skills, was rearranging our bags in the trunk while complaining to the driver.

  "Bill Jennings," Tony said quietly. "He's strictly by the book, so don't joke or tease with him."

  "Like I would," I snorted. "He looks like his mother fed him nails for breakfast."

  "With little tiny marshmallows," Tony held a thumb and forefinger a half inch apart.

  "Nah, no marshmallows," I shook my head. "Wood chips, maybe." Bill was finally satisfied with the luggage arrangement, climbed into the passenger seat and we were off. It had rained earlier in Atlanta and the highways were wet—we passed through mist and fog on the way to the hotel. At least the hotel downtown was a nice one; Tony and I had rooms next to each other with a closed connecting door. Bill the goon was staying in Tony's room. He should have moved over and let me do the protecting at night; I'd be awake anyway. I thought about Winkler but it was too late to call him so I pulled out my laptop, sent emails and spent the rest of the night reading. Just before dawn, Tony came in through the connecting door, forcing Bill the goon to stay behind in the other room. Tony made sure my door was secure and my curtains completely closed. He covered me up in the bed too, just as a precaution.

  One thing about being a vampire is that you never toss and turn. There are no sleepless nights spent fretting and worrying over what your next waking will bring or whether your boss will yell at you. Day comes and you're out. Night falls and you're awake. Hell of a system. My locked cooler of blood was plugged in and waiting for me when I woke. I checked the connecting door, making sure it was locked on my side before drinking my dinner. Maybe blood tastes good to other vampires. For me it was something to keep the hunger away and not much else. It tasted better if I took from someone I cared for. So far, that had been Gavin and Tony, with Tony's being warmer and nicer. I didn't want to drink from him again unless I couldn't help it, though. Bagged blood was fairly tasteless and just fine, thanks.

  Tony knocked on my door as soon as I was dressed so I opened up. Bill was standing at Tony's shoulder, wearing an impatient frown. Obediently I followed them out of Tony's suite. I wore a black t-shirt and jeans, black leather athletic shoes and a black sweater. I had no idea what we'd be doing so I came prepared. Tony smelled like steak and a baked potato, Agent Bill smelled of seafood linguine, so they'd eaten already.

  "We're taking you to a house we've quarantined," Tony informed me as the driver from the evening before pulled up in front of our hotel. It was raining again and I was glad I'd worn the sweater. The house was in the suburb or Smyrna and was a small rental with only two bedrooms. It looked as if it had been abandoned in a hurry—trash and stray pieces of furniture lay scattered about. Dirty dishes were still in the sink, too. Tell me what you smell in mindspeech only, Tony instructed as he, Bill and I walked through the door. I sniffed quietly through the house and my eyebrows rose a little.

  Tony, there were three humans and two vampires here, I sent to him while walking into the back bedroom. There were two twin beds inside and the windows were covered with dark blinds and curtains. I imagined they blocked light efficiently enough for vampires to sleep there.

  Will you recognize any of them if you see or smell them again?

  Tony, who do you think you're talking to, here? I almost snorted audibly.

  I suppose that's a yes, he grudgingly admitted. What else can you tell me?

  The vampires we killed in New Mexico? I asked.

  Yes?

  These are connected to those. They have the same taint.

  Lissa, you frighten me.

  You and a bunch of other guys, I responded.

  We drove to an office building downtown after that. I kicked my heels while Tony and Bill met with someone inside an inner office. They'd left me far enough outside and the walls and doors were thick enough that I couldn't hear any of the conversation, although I tried. Not even a mumble came through, dammit. Tony came out with a box in his hand and motioned for me to follow him into another room across the hall. Bill didn't follow us inside; he stood in the waiting room, arms crossed over his chest and a grim expression plastered on his face as Tony shut the door behind us.

  The room looked to be a place where job interviews might be done; it had putty colored walls, sturdy but nondescript furniture and a picture of the president hanging behind a faux-wood, utilitarian desk. "Lissa," Tony said, setting the box down on the desk and opening it, "tell me if this smells like any of the humans you scented earlier this evening." There was a shirt inside the box and it had blood on it. The scent reached my nose before Tony ever lifted the lid.

  "Tony, this is somebody else and either they bled a lot or they're dead. That shirt has blood on it." I looked into his gray eyes, which were unreadable. He carefully replaced the lid and gestured for me to follow him from the room.

  "Stay here," he nodded toward the chair I'd occupied earlier and he and Bill went back inside their sensory deprivation chamber.

  Sit, Lissa. Stay, Lissa. Heel, Lissa. I was getting used to it by now. I picked up a weekly news magazine lying on a nearby table. On the front cover was a photograph of weeping parents and the inside story covered the continuing disappearances of schoolchildren in Britain and Wales. Now there were seven reported missing or dead. The first three b
odies had been found—that's what Bryan told me in London, anyway. I didn't have time to read the entire article; Tony and Bill came out of their private office so I dutifully stood and followed along behind them.

  "We have one more place to go tonight," Tony said while the driver steered us away from the underground parking garage. This building had been another with no signs, just like the one in Kansas City. One more place turned out to be a dorm room at Georgia A&M University, about sixty miles northeast of Atlanta. A campus security guard escorted us to the room in question. The other inhabitants of the dorm were asleep or otherwise engaged—I heard quite a bit of snoring, some computer tapping and a tiny bit of sexual activity. The targeted dorm room was located at the end of a lengthy, tiled hall. Keys rattled as the security guard unlocked the door for us.

  Lissa, tell me what you smell, Tony sent when we stepped inside the room. The room was quite small and very empty, with naked mattresses piled onto two built-in beds. Someone had come to clean the room; disinfectant permeated the other scents.

  Who cleaned? I asked.

  Campus housekeeping services, Tony replied. Can you get anything?

  One of the people inside the house was here, I sent. There's a faint scent of someone else that I didn't find at the other place.

  Not the one who owned the shirt?

  No. Just one from the house and the new one, I sent.

  "Fuck," Tony said aloud.

  Why don't you let me go up and down the hallway, just to see if I pick anything up? I suggested.

  Fine. See what you can do. I'll hold these two off, Tony agreed. He and I held our silent conversation while Tony looked through the room, peering under mattresses and looking inside closets. There wasn't anything there for him to find.

  "Is there a restroom nearby?" I asked the guard.

  "Down the hall on the left," he jerked his head in that direction. I thanked him and walked out the door. Knowing it would be quicker if I turned to mist, I zoomed down the hallway, sniffing as I went until I came to the end on the right side and crossed over, coming back down the left. I was nearly to the room we'd been investigating when I caught the scent. I misted under the door, finding a young man with blond hair typing on his computer. I misted beneath the door again, noted his room number and turned to myself.

  Room 318 is the other scent, I gave the information to Tony the moment I walked inside the dorm room. Tony pulled out his cell and made a call before giving the security guard brief instructions. Tony's backup arrived in less than half an hour. The security guard wore a confused look as Tony, Bill, and three new agents walked down to room 318 and knocked on the door. Tony pushed the security guard to the door when the young man answered.

  "What do you want?" The boy's voice was sullen.

  "We have a fire on the first floor. Nothing to worry about, we just need to evacuate the building for a little while," The guard lied. The young man stepped into the hallway and all three agents were on him immediately. He resisted a little, which resulted in two black eyes, various bruises, several bumps and multiple contusions. I hoped he was in on whatever it was and hadn't been just a casual friend. He was in for a long night, either way.

  The young man's computer equipment was confiscated and he was hauled out in handcuffs while several students opened doors to see what was going on. The guard ordered all of them to return to their rooms as we escorted the young man out of the building.

  Dawn was coming in less than two hours and we had an hour drive back to Atlanta. Tony ordered Bill to ride with us, although he was itching to go with the one they'd just arrested. Bill told the security guard he'd be in touch and we left—Tony didn't say a word during the entire trip to the hotel.

  "Lissa, I have guards posted outside and they know not to come in," Tony informed me as I climbed into bed just before dawn. "Bill and I need to do some interviewing."

  I had a feeling the interviewing might involve intense questioning at the very least. Amazing, isn't it, what people will stoop to if you back them into a corner? Nodding instead of arguing, I allowed Tony to cover me up in bed. I was out the minute dawn hit the horizon.

  * * *

  "Father, we have not been able to track Sebastian," Radomir kept the worry from his voice as he stood before Wlodek's desk. He and Russell had just completed another fruitless search for the Council's missing Assassin. Sebastian had abandoned all three of his residences and none of the vampires he'd associated with in the past had seen or heard anything. It was as if Sebastian had systematically erased all evidence of his existence. Russell stood at Radomir's side, concerned that Wlodek might become furious. Wlodek hadn't maintained his position as Head of the Vampire Council by being a benign leader. Wlodek cursed, first in Greek and then in Latin, followed by a few other languages. "Charles!" he shouted after the cursing fit was over.

  "Yes, Honored One?" Charles was at the door to Wlodek's study in a blink.

  "Pull Gavin off his assignment. He's the only one that might be able to track Sebastian. Russell, you will take Gavin's place in Barcelona."

  "Of course, Honored One," Russell gave a slight nod. He'd never acted as an Assassin before. This would be a first.

  "Charles will give you the information," Wlodek waved Russell away. Russell was quite relieved to get away from the tension-filled room, although he kept the mask in place and didn't show it. Charles went with him, handing a folder of information over. Russell was on his cell phone immediately, calling for the Council's jet.

  * * *

  Saturday, April tenth heralded a cool and cloudy evening when I awoke, and I'd had dinner and a shower by the time Tony knocked on my hotel room door. He didn't offer any information and I didn't ask when he said, "Lissa, pack up, baby. We need to be at the airport in an hour." Biting my lip to keep some retort from escaping, I gathered my clothes and toiletries, packing them into my bag as best I could in the least amount of time. We'd spent nearly a week in the Atlanta area but had come up empty as far as tracking the vampires and the humans from the house we'd visited the first night. Tony already had his bag ready so I followed him, Bill and two other agents as we made our way through the carpeted, tastefully bland hallway of the hotel.

  "We're flying straight to L.A. I can have your clothes laundered or we can buy something else while we're there," Tony told me as we buckled ourselves into seats on the jet about forty-five minutes later. "What do you want to do about clothing, Lissa?" Tony asked when I ignored him. Again, I was left in the dark and there wasn't any way that Tony was going to tell me anything. I still didn't have a clue why we'd searched the house, the dorm room and several other locations in the Atlanta area, and wasn't likely to ever learn those things. Obviously, the whole thing made me a bit grumpy and depressed. And why hadn't he asked me to pack more than one bag to begin with, for cripe's sake? I had plenty of clothes at his house in Virginia, and they did me no good at all if I was in one place and they were in another. Resigning myself to buying clothing from a discount retailer that stayed open late, I settled into my seat on the jet and considered not answering Tony's question. "Well?" Tony wasn't going to let me ignore him for long.

  "It doesn't matter," I sighed and settled back in my seat across the aisle. Tony wasn't about to apologize to me in front of the others. I was a subordinate to him just as they were. He pulled out his laptop first thing once we got off the ground, preparing to write his inevitable emails.

  One of Tony's two extra agents aboard the flight had a copy of the New York Times and he offered it to me after reading it. I thanked him, grateful for something to read. There was an article on the second page about the child disappearances in Great Britain. Nine had now been taken. Another two had been found just as the first three were, floating in water with their throats slashed. My skin itched. I wanted to make a phone call so badly I could barely stand it but it would have to wait.

  Flying to the west coast meant another extended night for me as we loaded everything into a waiting SUV. The extra space was n
eeded for the other two agents, both of whom were human (although not nearly as stiff as Bill). I learned their names were Gene Pogue and Dustin Howell. Dustin asked to be called Dusty, surprising me a little. I was getting used to being treated with contempt or as an inferior, sometimes both. The informality of the nickname was like a breath of fresh air.

  Tony was on the phone during the ride to the hotel, but I didn't pay much attention to his conversation. I wondered in a distracted sort of way if he knew I could hear the person on the other end clearly and it didn't take a genius to know it was the Vice President. What had caught my attention in the newspaper I'd read, other than the children missing or dead in Great Britain, was that the Secretary of State would be in Los Angeles in three days for a conference and speech of some sort. I had a feeling that was why we were there.

  Our hotel was in Beverly Hills and perhaps the nicest place I'd ever stayed. Hollywood stars stayed there, or so I'd heard. I didn't see any when we arrived but it was three in the morning. "Lissa, do you need money?" Tony asked when we got to our connecting rooms. Bill's room was across the hall this time and I was thankful for the added privacy. I'd had a talk with myself during the trip, reminding myself that Tony had an important job and couldn't hand off information to just anybody, even if we had shared a few lip-locks. At least I was in a better mood when we landed at LAX.

  "No, I have some," I said. Merrill had given my envelope of cash to me, but I'd handed all except five thousand back to him before I left. I also had my credit card again. I didn't need anything else. "Why?"

  "I've asked agent Howell to take you shopping," Tony said.

  "Tony, the only thing that will be open is Walmart," I pointed out with a sigh.

  "Get some jeans at least," Tony said. "Will you pick up a few things for me as well?" He handed a list over. His sizes were on it; he was asking for jeans for himself, along with shirts, socks and underwear. A few toiletries were also on the list.