Mixed Blessing (Mixed Blessing Mystery, Book 1) (27 page)

Then I walked out of the door. I had made it halfway down his corridor, heading back towards the club itself, when his
Sanguis Vitam
wrapped around me and I suddenly found myself pinned to the wall.

He didn't whisper anything against the skin at the side of my neck, he didn't purr inside my mind. But his touch, through his
Sanguis Vitam
, said enough. Words weren't needed. My whole body quivered with excitement at the tease of what was to come. I'd laid down a challenge and Jett had just accepted. But I had the feeling he wouldn't play nice.

I sent a jolt of my Light back towards him, hearing his groan of pain laced with delight from the other side of the office door and then before he had a chance to retaliate, in this lethal and dangerous game we had set in motion, I flashed toward the door and out through the garage of the building. Deciding avoiding the club was the wisest move right now. By the time I hit the night air I was panting.

And it wasn't just for much needed air.

I used the shadows to disappear and headed towards the address on the slip of paper, whilst determinedly clearing all disturbing thoughts from my head.

Lucinda wasn't waiting for me in Newmarket, Samson was. And the force of the weight of guilt that crashed into me at the sight of him made me gasp. I'd successfully compartmentalised what had just happened with Jett, filed it away, buried it deep. But one look at Samson now and my heart ached at what I had done. Fuck. What an idiot I was. I quickly stifled my self-recriminations. I was not Samson's. He was not mine. I did not have to feel guilt at what had happened with Jett. I was an adult and free to do what I pleased.

Then why did it feel so real? And why did I want to run to him and reassure him that it meant nothing at all to me?

Part of me may have wanted more than what Jett could offer - wanted what Samson in fact could give - but I knew to want more would be to let that person in. And they would then hold the power over me to destroy. The vampire standing before me, his face an inscrutable mask as I slowly approached, was evidence enough of that. Even though I hadn't been with Samson for over two months, it still hurt.

I cleared my throat as I came to stop before him. "What are you doing here?" It was a little harsher than I had intended. But hell, my emotions were running riot and I wasn't at my best.

He cocked his head to the side slightly and ran a swift flick of his eyes down my frame.

"You look... rumpled," he said, ignoring my question and tone. "Did you just wake up?"

His eyes returned to my face and I knew he didn't believe those words, but he was giving me an out. Why?

"Something like that," I said under my breath attempting to brush past him towards the front of the sports bar. It was called
Guts and Glory
, a rather strange name for this sort of place. I guess it had something to do with the saying,
no guts, no glory
. I supposed it could be applied to sports.

Samson reached out and gently wrapped a hand around my upper arm, pulling me back against his side.

"Easy," he murmured, when I struggled against his hold. It was too intimate, too soft, too kind. "You need to know a thing or two about the place we're about to walk into."

I stopped struggling and turned to look up at him, placing a few more inches between our frames. He looked down at the separation and smiled grimly. Then shook his head.

"Lucinda's contact is a ghoul." My eyebrows rose up and I looked back over my shoulder at the clean and presentable front to the building. It didn't shout ghoul, that was for sure.

Samson closed the distance between us, his hot breath washing over my shoulder as he looked at the building along with me. I didn't move away again, he was playing, I would not let him make me run.

"He is her eyes and ears in the city." His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but there was something else. I refused to acknowledge it. I also knew he was no longer looking at the building. I didn't move. "His name is Pete and he is the head of the ghouls in Auckland City." His fingers came up and wrapped around the back of my neck in a once familiar motion to soothe. His thumb started rubbing just under my hairline. I gritted my teeth. "Ghouls do not like vampires. And vampires do not like ghouls. Pete will know you are a vampire, he will not pick up that you are Nosferatin too." His body was now pressing down my back, he'd somehow moulded himself to the length of me. The heat from his proximity was scorching, but it wasn't that that made my face flush.

I took a deep breath in and stepped away. My eyes cast down to the pavement, the guilt at what I still felt for him melding with the guilt of what had just happened with Jett. I was so screwed.

Once again his fingers found me, this time under my chin. He lifted my face up to his. Chocolate and taupe flashed in his eyes. I wanted to step away. I wanted distance and clarity and the coolness of the night. But I didn't. I stood frozen in place by his calm and self-assured gaze.

"Pete will not be happy to see us, but he is expecting us. Lucinda planned to be here, but when she was called away she phoned Pete to advise I would be your escort tonight. Pete respects Lucinda, therefore he will respect me. To a certain extent. He has no allegiance with you, and only meets with you at Lucinda's behest."

"Why do I need him?" I said swallowing past a suddenly dry throat.

"Because he knows everything that goes on in the supernatural community. This introduction is not to be taken lightly. Lucinda has staked her reputation on your good behaviour this night." His lips twitched at the pun, but he didn't draw attention to it. Lucinda would stake me if I stepped out of line.

I huffed a breath out in frustration. Why did Lucinda always try to organise my life? Why couldn't she let me form my own contacts in the ghoul community? I was sure I could. I didn't need her introductions. I didn't need Samson to babysit me. I was more than capable of doing this on my own.

"They would not see you without her recommendation," Samson added coolly. A direct contrast to the heat coming off him in waves, washing over my entire body, forcing me to clench my fists or run away screaming in confused fear.

I glared up at him and crossed my arms over my chest. How did he always answer my unspoken questions? His hand came up and smoothed the lines on my forehead, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I am to be your buffer between their direct hatred of vampires and what you need. They may not trust me, or like me, but they know I belong to Lucinda and therefore answer to her. If they think you belong to me, the security of Lucinda's protection will stand. She protects me, I protect you. See? Easy."

My mouth dropped open at his audacity. As if I would go for that.

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead, keeping his lips against my skin as he spoke. His grip on my upper arms making it impossible to pull away. "We are being watched," he warned softly. "You either want this contact or you write off any chance of the ghoul network helping you free your friend's cousin."

Samson knew what was important to me. To get Stu off the murder charge, to keep Kara happy, I'd do almost anything. A part of me argued that I was already so close to achieving that without any stupid vampire-hating ghoul's help. But what if there was something I didn't know, I wasn't aware of? What about the Rogue? I knew nothing about him and yet he knew too much about me.

I reluctantly admitted this could be the break I needed, to connect all the dots, to make that final leap and close the case once and for all. And then I could escape.

Escape Samson. Escape his heat. His touch. His call to my heart and soul.

I pulled back and looked at him, shaking my head and wishing there was another way. Why did my life have to get even more complicated? And why did Samson have to bring out the big guns right now when Jett had played his hand?

"Don't push your luck in there, vampire," I said with a growl and forged past him to walk toward the front door.

He caught up quickly, his voice no more than a purr in my ear.

"And don't think I will let him simply take you, Gigi. If he wants a fight on his hands, he'll have one."

I didn't have time to register his words, before a beefy hand grabbed my collar and hauled me inside the sports bar's doors.

The room was full of ghouls. There must have been fifty. And not a Norm in sight.

"Oh fuck-a-duck," I muttered, under my breath.

And then the door slammed shut with a bang and the lights went out.

The bright incandescent white light of before was replaced with an eerie red. Like safety lights in a military complex. Any minute now I expected to hear the
whoop, whoop
of an intruder alarm. Silence met us, not a single ghoul moved. Not even the one who still had his mitts wrapped in my jacket collar. All eyes were on me. Not Samson, but me, I noticed. Samson they just seemed to accept.

Maybe Lucinda's influence as his mistress carried more weight here than I thought.

"Pete," Samson said in a low voice, the edge of a growl could just be heard. "Nice welcoming committee."

A ghoul stepped forward from the mass, slightly taller than Samson, but broader too. A little extra weight around the middle that didn't so much as make him appear overweight, as simply
big
. I was sure that bulk hid muscle and strength. Ghouls could be known to pull limbs off vampire bodies, just with a twitch of their shoulders.

The ghoul, Pete, wasn't exactly what I had expected either. I'm not sure that I'd thought too much on it, but ghouls in my mind had always looked rather dirty and half dead. And had smelled of rotten meat and decay. I took a breath in through my nose and sifted through the scents. So many, and hardly any smelled of raw meat - and none of the decay I had braced myself for.

Strong rosemary and garlic, burnt coffee and out-of-date milk, and the beautiful aroma of soggy wet wool. A smirk twisted the corners of my mouth. The ghouls were angry, full of hatred and definitely uncomfortable. What a pleasant combination of emotions to smell. Not.

Pete stared at me for a moment, flat brown eyes piercing my skin from a hard, set face. His light brown, curly hair was cut close to his head and matched the neat trim of his goatee beard. He was everything I hadn't expected of a ghoul. Apart from the attitude, that is. I crossed my arms over my chest and cocked my head at him. Bring it on.

I heard Samson sigh off to my side, but I didn't take my eyes off the target.

"Pete," Samson said, as Pete obviously wasn't in the right frame of mind to speak just yet, "this is Georgia Deverell. Lucinda's charge."

Oh, I did want to glare at him for that. I was no one's charge, least of all the city's head Nosferatin. Pete wouldn't have known I was half Nosferatin myself - just as Samson had said earlier - so what would he think of a baby vampire being the
charge
of the local vampire hunter? I could just imagine.

I forced my shoulders not to droop. But lifted my chin and dared the ghoul to voice what he was obviously thinking. His brown eyes flashed in the red light of the room, but it wasn't so much a colour change as vampires can manage, just a reflection, a shift in his expression - enough to make his eyes flash with darker light.

I thought, perhaps, that we'd just continue to stare at each, a stand-off of sorts, but after several long seconds of silence, Pete grunted and turned towards the only table in the centre of the room. Three chairs sat around it, he took one and nodded to the other two for us to sit down. Samson didn't hesitate, but pulled one of the chairs out for me, waiting patiently for me to get my shit together and sit the fuck down. I didn't want to. My Dark Shadow was not at all happy to be here. She was pacing and snarling and clawing my insides. Threatening to go ballistic if the ghoul as much as sneezed.

With her recent show of force, as far as Jett was concerned, I was a little uncertain of whether I could contain her fear and fury right now. And that did not sit well at all. I had never had to consider a battle with her as well as the enemy in front of me, but right now diplomacy would serve me better than the brute force of a vampire wanting to spill blood.

I reminded her, as I stiffly took the seat Samson held open for me, that Stu's innocence was at stake. And Lucinda's wrath. She didn't stop pacing, but she did stop using her claws to let me know she was mad. It was something, at least.

Once we were all seated, the ghoul just continued to stare. I wanted to say something snarky about his conversational skills, but bit my tongue instead. Literally. Blood flooded my mouth and helped to calm me, but I noticed Samson stiffen instead at my side. He'd no doubt have smelled it, probably the ghoul had too, but I wasn't too sure on how strong their sense of smell was. I knew about their physical strength, about their penchant for raw - preferably still kicking - meat, but little else. This was Samson and Lucinda's ball game, so I sat back in a comfortable position, legs crossed at my ankles as I leaned back in my chair. Arms crossed over chest and took a casual look around the room.

That burnt coffee and out-of-date milk still hung in the air, but I'd got used to it by now. I didn't think it would disappear any time soon. But the soggy wet wool had gone, they had lost their discomfort, but clung to their hatred. And their anger was simmering in the background, but it had all been overshadowed by the smell of ink and crisp parchment - curiosity. Huh.

"So," Pete said, his first words as uninspiring as the décor. Sports bars are pretty much perfunctory. Large T.V. screens, wooden furniture, sports memorabilia and little else. "You're Lucinda's?" Oh, he did not just push that button, did he?

I flashed fang before I could stop myself. I'm not entirely sure I could blame it on the Dark Shadow, the reaction to his words was too visceral, too real, to have been just hers.

The ghouls growled en masse, a low rumble that vibrated through the entire room. Pete thrust the table towards us as he stood, the simple movement making the wooden object slam into both Samson and I with enough force to break bones, had we been Norms. But we weren't, so I thrust it back with equal force, coming to my feet with a snarl and a hiss, and Samson wrapped two arms around my waist and hauled me backwards as Pete struck. His fist missing my face by mere millimetres. Had Samson not pulled me out of the way, it would have hurt.

I let the red bleed into my eyes, matching the lights of the room and growled low and long in reply. My fangs fully extended, my
Sanguis Vitam
pulsing in the air. Every ghoul, other than Pete, immobilised by my blood life force, my power. I could no longer scent an emotion on the air, I was too angry, too riled. That's what happened when anyone mentioned my connection to Lucinda, a part of me took over, a part of me that belonged to the vampire-within.

"What the fuck?" Samson exclaimed, glancing at all the statue-like ghouls around the room. He was still holding on to me, because it seemed my vampire side wanted to drain the ghoul before me dry - and I wasn't gonna stop her - and as I was still straining against his hold, my legs on top of the table before us, as my back bowed trying to break Samson’s grip, he hadn't yet let go.

I ignored him. "This is between the ghoul and me, the rest of you get out." My command was dripping in
Sanguis Vitam
, the ghouls in the bar having no option but to obey. I had forgotten that vampires could command ghouls at will. The basis for the hatred between our kind. They had no choice but to do our bidding when we decreed it. A splash of
Sanguis Vitam
, a direct order with our will behind the command, and if you were a ghoul, you had to comply. Of course to command so many all at once was impressive, and I think that was why Samson's mouth hung open as the ghouls all filed out of the building without a single word.

Pete just stood there, arms crossed over chest, face narrowed in anger. His eyes drilling into mine. I finally stopped fighting Samson when the last of the ghouls left the room. The urge to rend them all apart, dissipating as soon as the door slammed closed at their backs.

I let a long breath out in relief. I hadn't even realised how their presence had affected me. Pete had known all along what that many ghouls in front of a young vampire would do, but I was betting he hadn't expected the young vampire to wield such power. I shook Samson's arms free and stood panting in front of both of them.

"Um... you should apologise, Georgia," Samson said in a quiet voice. I continued to pant, needlessly, but unable to stop my body sucking in air.

"No," Pete answered, surprising us both. "I laid the trap, she just fell into it and responded the only way she knew how. Lucinda had warned me, I didn't believe her." He shook his head. "I won't be so quick to doubt the Nosferatin again."

He took his seat at that and indicated ours with a nod of his head. After only a short pause, we both sat down. I'd stopped panting and had flipped to the complete opposite - no breathing at all.

"So, what are you?" Pete asked and for a moment I suspected he already knew - that I was a Nothus, but then his next words quashed that uneasy feeling. "Level three? Maybe even level two?"

"Level four," I replied, and Samson shifted slightly to my side.

Pete laughed. "You are no level four master, vampire. You wield
Sanguis Vitam
against the entire ghoul population of Auckland City with enough finesse to exclude me. Most level one vampires couldn't even influence more than ten at a time, the only way to command the entire ghoul community would be to influence me, yet you purposely left me out of your command. Bypassed my position and went straight to the core of the community. Not one ghoul was able to fight you off. Fifty experienced ghouls and one baby vampire - who most definitely is not a level four
Sanguis Vitam
Master."

He held my gaze for a moment, I didn't dare show my surprise or increasing fear at his words. I knew I had been getting stronger, but what he inferred was way more than even I had suspected.

"I'd say level three, bordering even on level two. And it won't be long before you reach that goal too... and beyond." His eyes flicked over to Samson. "Now he's a level four, it's as plain as day. Capable of much I should think, but nothing in comparison to you."

For some reason I didn't like him talking Samson down. Samson may have been a level four master, like I had been, but there was more to Samson than most people knew. I'd seen it. A strength of character, a determination to do what's right. Besides, his soul was washed in Lucinda's Light and we didn't know what that did to a vampire yet, it was still early days. For all we knew it could manifest in any number of never-before-seen powers, courtesy of his mistress.

I leaned forward in my chair and met the ghoul's gaze. "Don't underestimate him, ghoul." I sat back and watched surprise swiftly get chased by amusement across his face.

His gaze shifted to Samson, whose fists were clenched tightly on his thighs. "You have a champion, vampire. What have you done to gain this creature's respect?"

I blinked. Was that what I had shown, respect for Samson? I just hadn't wanted the ghoul to diss his skills and powers. No vampire wants someone to talk down their abilities in front of another vampire - and a more powerful one as I seemed to be becoming.

I decided to steer the conversation away from this dangerous turn of events. "Lucinda said you may be able to help out on an investigation I am carrying out at the Master of the City's behest."

Pete let his eyes lazily return to me. "Do you know how we operate, vampire?"

I shrugged. I had no idea what rocked a ghoul's boat. Was I meant to have brought a fresh carcass with me as payment?

He sat forward and leaned his thick arms on the table top between us. "We buy and sell information, that's all that interests us. If you want something from me, then you have to offer up an adequate payment in return. The only payment I am interested in is knowledge, information. Preferably from the horses mouth, so to speak. Lucinda has paid for this interview, without the payment you would already be dead after the stint you just pulled, but luckily, Lucinda knows how to play the game and she offered a payment worthy of me overlooking your transgression. But now, if you want info, I want info as payment back."

Several thoughts streamed through my head. The loudest of which was what could Lucinda have told this ghoul that made him turn a blind eye to my influencing his entire ghoul population? What could possibly be worth that much to him? I had a moment of panic, thinking she may have told him what I am, but that was not Lucinda's style. As much as I hated her, I also knew her. It wasn't her secret to share. I shook my head to clear the thought that she would have
sold
something personal, something pertaining to her - on my behalf.

Pete saw the look of horror and understanding that slipped uninvited onto my face. I quickly schooled my features into my blank vampire mask. Even now, two months after being introduced to this world, Lucinda's selflessness still managed to floor me, strip me of my defences and leave me bare to attack.

Samson's hand came over and gripped mine surreptitiously beneath the table. For some strange reason I let him, needing that connection to him to ground me, before I sank beneath the waves of my regret and guilt because of Lucinda's unselfish act.

I promised myself I'd deal with all the emotions that came with Lucinda at a later date, right now I needed to find out what I could about this case. But how to start? Did the ghoul give me info first or did I offer up a secret to get the ball rolling?

I thought I'd start with some basics and see where we went from there. "Are you aware of the murders surrounding SubZero?"

He nodded and cocked his head to the side, but didn't say anything in reply. So, he was going to make me spell it out? OK.