Authors: Jeannie Holmes
“Do you know where Kirk may have gone after he attacked you?”
“No.”
“What about Mindy? Do you know who he sent her to last before she disappeared?”
Fresh tears tracked down her cheeks. “No. All Kirk would tell me is that it was a new client and the guy had a thing for redheads.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. “She’s dead. I know she is. I hooked her up with Kirk. I killed her. Oh, God! Mindy, I’m so sorry.”
She fell into a pattern of repeating “I’m sorry,” and the interview was over.
Alex knew she was dreaming from the moment she opened her eyes. She sat in a straight-backed chair with her arms and legs chained to the bare cement floor. An odd oily sheen coated the dark walls only a few feet from her. The only light source came from a large video monitor, its screen a fuzzy haze of black-and-white pixels.
Sensing movement behind her, she turned as far as the chains would allow. “Who’s there?”
No answer.
“What is this place? What’s going on?”
The screen before her snapped to a flat blackness, plunging her into darkness for a moment, before returning with what appeared to be a film. A man and woman snuggled close in the flickering dimness of candlelight.
Alex felt her heart skip a beat. “Varik.”
The woman tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder and smiled. Focusing on the woman, she now recognized her as Morgan Dreyer. Varik stroked Morgan’s hair, brushing his fingers along her cheek and throat. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
Betrayal speared Alex.
“You must say that to all your women,” Morgan replied.
Varik smiled, showing the full extent of his fangs. “No, just you,
ma puce
.”
Morgan laughed and playfully slapped him.
He easily caught her wrists and pulled her closer.
“Je t’aime, ma puce,”
he murmured and kissed her.
Alex looked away, tears stinging her eyes. She knew Varik had a prior relationship with Morgan, but knowing and seeing were two very different things.
A hand slid across her shoulders, caressing her.
Startled, she searched for the source but saw no one. Soft moans and whispers emanated from the video screen, demanding her attention.
Varik and Morgan had progressed from kissing to foreplay. Morgan ran her fingers through Varik’s hair as he trailed kisses down her exposed stomach and settled between her thighs.
Alex closed her eyes and strained against the chains that bound her. She tried to stand and was forced back into the chair by the short length of the chains. “What the fuck do you want from me?”
The unseen hands stroked her shoulders as one lover would comfort another. “He doesn’t really care for you.”
She looked for the source of the voice but it seemed to originate from everywhere and echoed throughout the small room.
“You’re just one of a long line of women.”
The image on the screen changed, shifting from Morgan and Varik to Varik and a parade of unknown women making love. Dozens of women’s faces flashed on the screen, ending with hers.
“You’re nothing to him,” the voice whispered.
“You’re wrong.”
“Do you truly believe he no longer has feelings for this one?”
The screen showed Morgan holding an infant, speaking to it in soft tones. Varik entered the room and Morgan smiled. “Look,” she whispered to the infant. “Papa is home.”
He gently took the baby from her arms. A mixture of love, joy, and pride shone in his eyes. “Hello, Edward,” he cooed and the infant gurgled in response.
Morgan wrapped her arms around Varik’s waist, leaning on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head in the picture of domestic bliss. More images flickered across the screen. Scenes of Varik chasing a growing child with dark hair, of holding Morgan in his arms while she slept with a sleeping Edward in her arms, and family walks in the sunlight flashed before her.
“See?” the voice intoned. “How could you ever compete with the mother of his child?”
“Stop it,” Alex murmured, feeling the warm trickle of tears on her cheeks.
The images of Varik, Morgan, and Edward faded and were replaced with a view of Alex, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, humming as she busily chopped carrots in a galley-style kitchen.
“No,” she said. “Not this.”
Varik entered the kitchen, his face pale and drawn, a bandage on his arm.
The Alex on the screen looked up, smiling, but her smile quickly turned to a frown. “Holy shit,” she said, stopping her prep work. “What happened?”
Varik shrugged. “A Midnighter clipped me.” He fingered the bandage covering his biceps. “Took a plug out of my arm.”
“Are you okay? Do you need a doctor? A donor?”
“No, I’m fine. It’s not that bad.”
Screen Alex eyed him uncertainly. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Varik grabbed a piece of chopped raw carrot and popped it in his mouth. “But I’m starving. How long until this is ready?”
Screen Alex returned to chopping vegetables. “Not that long if you’ll help. Would you—Ow!” She dropped her knife and grabbed a towel. “Damn it.”
“Stop this,” Alex whispered to her unseen tormentor. “Shut it off.”
No response met her plea.
Screen Alex was asking Varik to find her a bandage. He didn’t respond except to move closer, his dark eyes shifting rapidly to molten gold.
“Stop it!” Alex shouted as Varik attacked her twin on the screen.
The attack was swift. He pushed her to the floor, straddling her and pinning her to the cold linoleum. Screen Alex screamed for him to stop, to get off, but her cries were silenced as his fangs ripped into the soft tissue of her neck. The picture froze as Varik rose onto his knees, fangs bared and her blood dripping from his gaping mouth.
Alex sobbed and covered her face with her hands, trying unsuccessfully to block the memory of the attack. “Why?” she whispered into her hands. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“To help you.”
Her anger flared, bright and hot. Chains rattled and groaned as she gained her feet and cast her chair aside, shouting, “How is torturing me helping? How is keeping me chained helping?”
“
He
is the one who has bound you, not I.
He
bound you to him.
He
wants to control you, limit you.” The voice drew closer and the unseen hands returned to briefly grip her shoulders before sliding lightly down her arms. “
I
would free you. No restrictions. No boundaries.”
The video screen flickered, refocusing her attention on the still image of a savage and bloody Varik crouched over her.
“No pain,” the voice whispered in her ear. “Accept me and I will make certain he never harms you again.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will. In time.”
The video sprang to life once more, playing out a memory Alex had tried very hard to forget. Unable to look away, she sank to her knees and wept.
Tasha sat in front of a closed-circuit video monitor and watched a clearly distraught Piper Garver attempt to pull herself together. She couldn’t blame the girl for being upset. It wasn’t every day someone watched a person—even if the person in question was a vampire—kill another human with their bare hands.
Sighing, she turned in her chair to face Damian and Varik, who were speaking in hushed tones a few feet away. “So what happens now?”
They looked at her.
“What’s going to happen to Piper now? She’s clearly a victim here.”
“She’s also an accomplice,” Damian said. “She admitted to recruiting girls for Beljean’s operation.”
“He forced her. He took every opportunity to abuse and threaten her.”
“He
paid
her,” Varik snapped. Ever since Alex was taken, his normally dark eyes had remained a bright gold, evidence of his intense emotional state. “The Bureau will take her situation and relationship with Beljean—
all
aspects of it—into consideration, but we can’t let her walk. We have to charge her as an accessory.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Her anger flared.
“That girl is an emotional wreck and if you charge her with anything, she’s likely to shut down completely and not give you any more information.”
“Don’t tell me how to run my investigation!”
“I would
never
consider telling the great high-and-mighty Varik Baudelaire how to wipe his ass much less run an investigation! But I
am
telling you that you’re making one hell of a big mistake right now!”
“Lieutenant Lockwood makes a valid argument,” Morgan said as she entered the small observation room, cutting off Varik’s potential response. “It would be more logical to cut a deal with Ms. Garver in exchange for information.”
Varik rounded on her. “I don’t recall asking for your fucking opinion on the subject.”
Morgan’s brows rose sharply as Damian laid a warning hand on Varik’s shoulder. Her voice sliced the air like a blade made of ice. “I will remind you
once
more to whom you are speaking,
Director
Baudelaire.”
“I know perfectly well to whom I’m speaking, and you aren’t going to intimidate me, Morgan.” He brushed away Damian’s hand. “So drop the SI shit.”
As Morgan closed the distance between her and Varik, Tasha scooted her rolling chair as far away from the two vampires as the small room would allow.
“You seem to be laboring under the false impression that
I
answer to
you
,” Morgan hissed. “Enforcer Sabian’s abduction doesn’t negate my role here. I will continue following my orders to find evidence of corruption, and if that means calling your actions into question along with Sabian’s, which I’m beginning to suspect would be a fair assessment, then so be it.”
“You fucking bitch. You have no cause to open an inquiry on me.”
“Oh, really?” Morgan’s gaze slipped to Tasha.
Tasha’s blood turned to ice, despite her racing heart, as three sets of golden eyes shifted their focus to her.
“What did you do?” Varik rasped, taking a step toward her.
Tasha stood and maneuvered her chair to stand between them. She glanced at Morgan, who nodded her encouragement. “After you cornered me in the break room, Morgan approached me, told me I should—”
A continuous loud beeping filled the room. Varik swore loudly as he ripped his cell phone from the holster at his hip. The anger in his face drained away as he checked the display.
“What is it?” Damian asked, moving to stand next to Varik.
“It’s a text from Emily but—” A techno beat sounded from his phone. He pushed the button to answer and raised it to his ear but didn’t speak. Seconds ticked by in silence.
Tasha dug her fingers into the fabric of the chair back, anxious to know what was happening.
Varik and Damian were suddenly in motion, reacting to something she hadn’t heard. Varik darted from the room with Damian only steps behind, his own cell phone now glued to his ear as he shouted orders.
Tasha found herself alone in the observation room with Morgan. “What the hell just happened?”
“I couldn’t hear everything, just enough to know that call was from Emily Sabian,” Morgan answered. “Apparently she and another woman are being held at gunpoint.”
“Shit.” Tasha raced to catch up with Varik and Damian with visions of blood-spattered walls and crime scene tape already filling her head.
* * *
Pain seared Kirk’s side whenever he moved. The stitches were holding and the blood loss had stopped but his entire side felt like it was on fire. Adding to his unhappiness was a growing blood-hunger. He’d have to feed soon if he wanted to heal properly.
Luckily, there was a donor nearby.
He focused on the sight of Janet on her hands and knees, wiping up droplets of his blood. He watched as she helped the woman who’d stitched him up, Emily, clear away the remaining bandages, supplies, and blood. Both women made certain to stay well out of his arm’s length.
He smirked. The older vampire had nothing to fear from him. At least not yet. As for Janet, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t already had her in nearly every way a vampire could take a donor. His fangs had been in nearly every one of her veins. Until she turned straight and went to work at Crimson Swan, she’d been his number one blood bunny, earning him an assload of cash. Only reason he’d let her stay gone was because he’d found Piper.
Piper. The bitch. He still couldn’t believe she’d gotten away from him. If only that stupid-ass truck driver hadn’t interfered.
Kirk lifted his shirt and checked the bandage covering the surprisingly deft stitches. No blood showed yet. That was good. He’d need to leave soon if he was going to make it out of town before Piper undoubtedly finished spilling her guts to the cops. But first …
Janet picked up the bowl that had once held warm water but now only contained a wad of sodden pink rags. As soon as she was close enough to him, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him.
She screamed and dropped the bowl, trying to free herself from his grip.
Laughing, he fought for control of her arms, pulling
one behind her into an awkward angle and she stopped her struggles. His stomach rumbled as he brought her other wrist to his lips and inhaled. “I’d forgotten just how sweet you smell.”
“Let her go,” Emily said in a low, even tone.
He glared at her. “What’s the matter? Afraid there won’t be enough to share?”
“You said you wouldn’t hurt her if I helped you.”
“Fuck off, bitch. I lied.” He bared his fangs, preparing to bite into Janet’s tender flesh.
A hand came between his mouth and Janet’s wrist. “I said, let her go.”
“Don’t
ever
tell me what to do!” Kirk grabbed a fistful of Janet’s hair and used his free hand to backhand Emily across the face. She careened into a set of cabinets and then crashed to the floor.
Janet wailed as he forced her against the wall near the back door and sank his fangs into her neck. Blood—warm, thick, and sweet—pumped into his mouth. He greedily gulped down a mouthful, then another.
Memories that weren’t his flooded his mind. Random images from Janet’s life flashed before him. A vampire with blond curls and a wide grin talked with customers from behind a bar. The same vampire lay in a hospital bed, surrounded by flowers and balloons. Emily and a younger red-haired vampire stood nearby.