Blood Legacy: Adult Urban Fantasy (The V V Inn Book 5) (27 page)

My wife pales, what little color she has fleeing in an instant.

I pat her shoulder. “Look at the timing, Dria. Rolando has planned this every step of the way.”

“I don’t believe it. We’ve already accredited the magical imbalance to Justin.”

“Just this morning we discussed it might not be him. Denial doesn’t suit you, my dear.”

She pushes back from the table and storms from the room. “I like living in denial quite nicely, thank you very much.”

Dria slams the bedroom door, and the two of us are left alone, staring down at the map.

“That didn’t go over well,” Jon says. “What next?”

“Next, we convince her she has to walk into his trap and put an end to this deadly charade once and for all.” I jab my finger on the map at the Plaza de Mayo. “He wants her here. We just have to figure out when.”

After a half-hour cool down period, I venture into our shared bedroom to see if Dria is ready to talk. Much to my relief, she’s doing a complex yoga pose. I know she’s aware I’ve entered, no matter how deep in thought she is, she’s always
aware
, so I stand quietly, waiting for her to naturally finish the pose in her own time.

She needs the exactness of the move to still her thoughts. Something she seeks out regularly to remain in control of her mind, and not to become overruled by her emotions.

When she’s finally upright—standing perfectly still with bent arms in front of her chest, palms touching—her chin dips as her lips move, then she lifts her eyelids and her face, focusing her attention on me.

“You won’t be going without me,” I say, laying my determination out there early so we can get past it.

Her lips turn up at the corners. “Understood. Did you really think I’d face them without my Wolf Killer by my side?”

My heart swells at her acceptance. She hasn’t been herself since we escaped from Coraline’s clutches. And frankly, neither have I. I would have started a knock-down-drag-out-fight if she tried to exclude me now. I’m done letting her handle it all. Last month proved, without a doubt, we can both be taken against our will—anytime. And I intend to shore up our defenses any way I can.

“Do you know when?” I ask. “That’s what you were pondering in the back of your mind, through your moves, right?”

She gives me a sly smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Maybe. Can’t say for sure what’s working in my subconscious.” She softens, the lines of her face smoothing, the most relaxed I’ve seen her in ages. “That’s the point of meditation. To ease your mind, to accept what is. To see, with clarity, the best life-route to bring happiness to you soul.” She becomes more solemn, walking toward me. “And to understand when you might have to darken your soul for a while with a choice you have to make. To know your soul will be happy again, soon, as long as you are careful not to let too much darkness taint you.”

I open my arms, inviting her into my heart with the motion, reassuring her she is not alone, she will always have me by her side. I run my hands down her spine, letting her feel my touch.
 

She presses her lips to my shirt in a kiss. “He’ll be there every night, waiting,” she says, referring to Rolando at the Plaza de Mayo.

“The nights are long this time of year.”

“And he won’t want to waste all of it on waiting for me to figure out what he’s doing. He’ll limit his time in the plaza.”

“To when?”

“Well past sunset, but before midnight.”

“How can you be sure?”

She shrugs. “I can’t. But it’s what I would do. Especially if I had to plan more magical mischief that night.”

“You’re right, the murders all happened after sunset, but well before midnight.”

“He’ll then wait for me where I fought rogues who’d tried to destroy the Seat of Darkness. It was a bloody day in the city’s pre-history. Not one I’ll ever forget.”

“And why would Rolando know this day would stick out for you? Was it one of your worst battles?”

“No, not by a long shot. Thankfully though, when I look back, the details seem more like I’m watching an historical reenactment show on the History Channel, not something I really did. But to answer your question—he would refer to that night because he fought by my side.”

“Interesting.”

“Not really. We had both been enforcers for the Tribunal at one time in our long undead lives. I’d sparred with him before, knew he could fight.”

“Was it significant in any other way for him?”

She cocks her head to the side, a thoughtful gleam entering her gaze. “Yes. I hadn’t thought of it until you mentioned it. He was offered a position in the inner circle after that.”

“Who initiated the discussion for his nomination?”

A bright smile shines across her gorgeous face, lighting her green eyes with fire and determination. “Persephone.”

We fill the hours of the early evening with more food and even more planning. We’re sure Rolando wasn’t acting alone all this time, and the group consensus is Persephone has been working with him. What would the ancient gain by involving herself in this scheme? Dria is unsure who originally turned Rolando and made him a vampire, and I’m inclined to think perhaps he has a deeper connection to the distant ancient than we were previously aware of.

It’s almost eight when we decide to leave for the Plaza de Mayo. Jon paces with nervous energy. “I’m still not so sure we should be going with just the three of us. I could call Magda, see if she’s willing to join us.”

My wife smiles, the sentiment softening her lines of worry. “I appreciate the thought, Jon. But there’s no way in hell I’m bringing anyone else into this mess. Truth be told, I’d rather go alone.”

“Not going to happen,” I say. Jon’s forceful “hell no” sounding at the same time.

“I know, I know. We talked about it. You guys are both coming.” She shoots us an annoyed glance. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“What are you expecting will happen?”

“Could go several ways. Rolando wants to finish what he started last month, and plans to question me further. And possibly kill me when I can’t reveal any information about the Atlantians or more manipulators.

“Or he plans to kill me outright. Although, I’m less inclined to believe that one. He’s proven he could’ve come after me anytime this week if that’s what he wanted.”

I break in with my thoughts. “I don’t think he’s after you for information. If that was the case, he’d have been in that room while they tortured you.”

“What else could he want?”

“To meet you on neutral ground?” I suggest. “When you’re not tracking him with the intent to kill him on sight.”

“That was never my plan, and you know it. I’d always intended to question him before I killed him. What good would it do to end him without knowing if there were others plotting to come after me, too?”

Jon’s pacing stops. Hands on his hips, he glances back and forth between us. “And what about weapons? Are we taking any? Should I go as a wolf or man?”

“There’s a martial arts equipment shop over in Monserrat,” I say. “I wouldn’t mind bringing a bo staff and throwing knives.”

Dria shakes her head. “Whatever you bring could be used against you by a powerful vampire. I wouldn’t risk it.”

“Nothing?” Jon asks. He sees her shake her head again. “Dammit. I feel naked enough as it is. This sucks.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and stares down at the map.

“Am I walking in as bait, with you two watching from the sidelines?”

Jon’s head whips up. “Uh—another resounding
hell no
. We go in together, a united front.”

My wife sighs. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

By eight-thirty we’re parking a couple of blocks away and walking into the well-lit Plaza de Mayo, scanning every face we pass for signs of Rolando or Persephone. I flank my wife’s right side and Jon is on her left. The plaza isn’t very busy this time of year, with the trees bare and the grasses looking lifeless and flat. Palm trees tower above us, bracketing the brick sidewalks, the fronds rustling in the chilly winter breeze.

Dead ahead lies the pristine Mayo Pyramid, a stone monument made in 1810, and the
Casa Rosada
, or Pink House, sits behind it. A lone figure leans against the black fencing around the monument’s base, staring toward us. Slicked back dark hair, tall, slender build, impeccably dressed as always.

That’s him
, my wife says through our telepathic bond.
Stay sharp and watch for Persephone.

We continue our approach, angling toward Rolando’s position. He straightens as we get closer, stepping away from the fence, hands spread wide. “So good of you to finally join me, Alexandria. I wondered how long it would take you to figure it out.”

“Was it worth it? To kill all those people?”

“We had to be sure you’d come back to the city.”

“You could have called me.”

He smiles, a deadly expression that doesn’t reach his eyes, which remain flat and emotionless. “And would you have listened? Would you have come to meet me?”

“Considering you helped torture me, probably not.”

He nods once, his suspicions confirmed. “Exactly as I thought. You never would have believed I was there to keep you safe. To make sure they didn’t go too far and kill you.”

My wife tilts her head to the side, narrowing her gaze on the suave vampire. “And I don’t believe you now. Why would you have tried to help me?”

He motions a hand near his feet, and out of nowhere, two black puppies appear. Rolling and tumbling on the ground in play.

Dria freezes, mentally screaming through our bond,
Protect your mind! Lock it down tight!
And with that, I sense an emptiness that wasn’t there a moment ago. My wife cutting off all mental contact with me.

“Because, my dear,” Rolando says, his voice dangerous and low. “I’m exactly like you.”

Shock slams into me as understanding hits me in the face. The puppies aren’t real. He’s casting an illusion, a physical illusion so strong, even Dria can see it. And to prove my point, the puppies disappear.
 

The older vampire smiles again, this time with a hint of superiority in it. “That’s right. I can see you’ve all worked it out. I’m a manipulator, just like your lovely redhead.”
 

Without warning, a shimmer of movement, like heat dancing in the air over a summer street, appears at his side. Slowly it takes on corporeal form, revealing the tall, lithe body of Persephone.

Her voice travels the short distance between us to dance up our spines, like the icy fingers of death on a cold Alaskan night. “And if we’d wanted you dead, you already would be.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Jon

A bead of sweat forms near my temple, despite the cold, and slowly trickles down the side of my face. Every muscle in my body is poised to fight, to leap forward and smash my fist into the detached faces of the vampires before us.
 

But I hold still, very aware they could kill me between one heartbeat and the next—with just a thought. The sounds of the city swirl around us, the scents of the distant food vendors and chatting tourists reminding me we’re not as isolated as it seems.
 

“Why?” Vivian asks. “Why did you do all of this? Why the elaborate plan to draw me back in?”

“We had to be sure,” Persephone says, slipping her hand into the crook of Rolando’s elbow. “Sure you were uncorrupted by the power. Sure that you would not reveal what you knew, even under extreme circumstances.”

The redhead snorts. “And you thought torture was a good way to determine that?”

One slim shoulder rises. “It worked. As did the means to get you here, exactly where we want you.”

Viv gestures with her arm, “Here? In the Plaza de Mayo?”

A crafty look passes over the ancient’s face. “Is that really where you are? Are you certain?”

Slowly the sounds drift away, as does the breeze and the smells it carried. The monument shimmers in the background and dissolves, the distant Pink House and palm trees a memory. I feel a rush, like my head is spinning from a carnival ride, and hear a whoosh inside my mind, like the shutting of a door on a strong wind. All at once, an extravagant living room appears around us, a home I’ve never been in before.

Creams and browns dominate the space, with touches of color here and there in a pillow or piece of artwork. The adjustment to another view of reality sways me and I reach out a hand to steady myself.
 

Vivian’s colder hand finds mine, and she squeezes it once in reassurance.
 

“How the hell did we get here?” I ask, proud to hear my voice sounds steady and doesn’t reveal how freaked out I’m really feeling.

“I slipped into your minds the moment you left your car. You walked here under my direction, while thinking you were at the plaza.” She gestures to the brown couches. “Please, take a seat.”
 

Vivian steps forward, pulling Rafe and me with her. She doesn’t speak through our mind link, but I understand instinctively we can’t make a move until we know what the hell is going on. All three of us sit on the sofa facing the fireplace, leaving the love seat and chair for Rolando and Persephone.
 

The evil couple follows us, sitting close on the shorter couch. With a flick of her fingers, the fire lights in the hearth, flames springing up instantly to lick the logs laid on a metal grate.

Vivian sucks in a breath. “You! Not Rolando. You were the one who created the magical creatures that killed all those people. There was no imbalance and thinning of the barrier between worlds. You did it and let Justin take the blame.”

“He took the blame all on his own, thanks to your meddling. He drew an incorrect conclusion based on the information he had. As you all did. Not my fault.”

“But you aren’t denying you killed those people to get me here?”

She looks over the three of us, her face an unreadable mask devoid of emotion. “We did what we needed to do.”
 

“And George? Did you cast a binding spell for the gato to kill him easier?”

“An unfortunate death,” the ancient vampire shakes her head. “But we knew you cared for him and it would lead you where we wanted.”