Bloodlines (Demons of Oblivion) (15 page)

“Hello, darling,” Jamie said with a grin. He glanced down at my hand when I made no move to release him. Perhaps he thought that once I saw it was him, I would let him go.

He didn’t know me very well.

“Uh, do you mind putting me down?”

“Do
you
mind explaining what you’re doing in my apartment?”

“I could try, but I think you’re crushing my larynx.”

“And yet I don’t seem to care.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can’t still be sore about last night.”

“You shot me,” I reminded him.

“And you more than made up for it by putting four bullets in my back.”

“You ruined my dress,” I continued.

“But I brought you a present.” He gestured to the bed.

I glanced behind me to see a flat white box with a huge red bow on the top. Well...it was a known fact I could be bought quite easily. I let him go. “It had better be a good one.”

Jamie rubbed at his neck for a moment and watched me suspiciously. “Me too—I’m afraid to know what you’ll do to me if it’s not.”

“That’s a healthy fear to have,” I muttered as I went to the box. I slid the ribbon off the package and lifted the lid. Thin layers of tissue paper covered what I assumed was a dress; paper cracked and crinkled as I pushed it back. Within was a crimson gown remarkably similar to the one I had worn the night before. Correction—not similar...
exact
.

“Aw, you robbed a clothing store for me,” I said in a mock-sweet voice. “How nice of you.” I held up the dress for inspection, then checked the label. At least it wasn’t a knockoff.

“If you’re going to be ungrateful, I’ll take it back.”

“It won’t do you any good—only one place in town carries that designer, and they only give store credit.” I dropped the gown back in the box and turned to face him. Squared my shoulders, put my hands on my hips—it was my “I’m serious” stance. “I’m still mad at you.”

His dark eyes widened. “But I replaced—”

“As I seem to recall, you were more than eager to leave me in favour of finding O’Connor last night. That hurt.”

“Well, you had already taken out my target—”

“No, before that.”

A look of understanding crossed his eyes, and he suddenly grinned. “I seem to recall you doing the same.”

“Which was quite reasonable from my point of view, but certainly not from yours.”

That lopsided grin got bigger. “Is that so?”

“Yes, it is. I’m
so
much prettier than you. I mean, look at me.”

“I am,” he replied, leaning in and kissing me.

Perspective,
Zara
, I reminded myself. There was a time and place for such things...

Jamie ran his fingers through my hair, tilting my head back and dragging his lips down my throat. A shiver ran down my spine. With one arm firmly around my waist, he eased me down to the bed, pushing aside the box and dress with his other hand. I arched back; the duvet went cold and wet beneath my damp hair.

If you ask me, the need for perspective is overrated.

Outside my room, the elevator door creaked open just as Jamie slid one warm hand into the front of my kimono.

“Zara,” Nate called, his heavy footfalls thumping on the hardwood as he approached. He stuck his head in the doorway and I looked over at him.

He said nothing as his gaze went from me to Jamie, then back to me again.

“I see you’re someone’s type,” he finally said.

I rolled my eyes. “Please, I’m sure anything with two legs and breasts is his type.”

“Really, sweetheart,” Jamie said. “That was uncalled for—legs aren’t the prerequisite part.” He turned to Nate. “Hey kid, Mom and Dad are kind of busy right now.”

“When you’re finished, I believe we have some work to do,” Nate said pointedly, then returned to the living room.

Jamie chuckled. “You’re living with Junior?”

I sighed. “Temporary alliance.”

“Oh, the stories I could tell you about him,” he said. “But that would take too long, and I’ve got a few other things on my mind right now...”

“A few things?”

“Well...okay, just one.”

Ugh. Horny male vampires. “Nate’s right—I have things to do.”

“Nah, he can wait.” Jamie tipped his head down to kiss my shoulder. “I’m sure he can amuse himself for another hour or two.”

I was already getting bored, but an attempt at rising didn’t get me too far. “C’mon, there are more important things going on. Besides, I told you I’m still mad at you.”

“You don’t seem mad to me,” he said.

I abruptly kneed him hard between the legs and he cried out. I pushed him off me. He doubled over as he hit the floor, muttering to himself.

“And to think I was freaked out when I heard those Ratorth guys went after you.” He tried to stand. Failed.

Yeah, I’d kneed him
hard
. “I assume you have some other purpose in being here.” I rose from the bed and sashayed toward my closet. “I would be interested in hearing about it after I get dressed. For now, you can sit in the living room and keep ‘Junior’ company. And try not to eat him.”

****

I bound my hair up in a high ponytail and dressed in a pair of black low-rise jeans and charcoal-coloured tank top. Stealthy and stylish. I found Nate sitting on the couch and Jamie perched on the arm of a chair, testosterone snapping in the air like a rabid animal.

“Dearest, we were just talking about you,” Jamie said as I joined them. “I was trying to assure young Nathan here that when I started sleeping with you I didn’t realize you were his girlfriend, but he doesn’t seem to believe me.”

“No, I just don’t care.” Nate sent an annoyed glance my way.

“Jamie,” I said, equally as irritated. “First of all, don’t call me ‘dearest.’ Second, you aren’t, in fact, sleeping with me, and you won’t ever be unless you start shutting up. Third, I’m not his girlfriend—he’s married. Or at least he was until she was killed last night.”

“Your wife died?” Jamie said, looking over at Nate. “Is that why you’re in such a bad mood?”

“Your inability to shut up is actually contributing more to that,” Nate replied sharply.

Jamie shrugged. “Widowhood...I don’t see the big deal—all my wives are dead, and you don’t see me brooding about it.”

Had to agree with him there. “My sentiments exactly. However, that has little to do with why you’re here, so start explaining.”

Jamie’s formerly charming lopsided grin was starting to
really
annoy me, and now it was plastered across his face. “You both just told me to shut up. I guess I shouldn’t—”

“Tell me what you’re doing here, or I’ll throw you out another window.” Nothing that could be misconstrued as a joke entered my voice.

He gave us a petulant sigh. “Fine. Last night I was taken to a hospital because of my injuries,” he sent an unconvincing glare my way, “where they removed my bullets and the stake. After feeding on an adorable young nurse, I decided to return to my employers, and you’ll never guess what I found.”

“They were all dead,” I said, already bored with his story.

“You’re quick. Yes, they were dead, and their house burned to the ground, which is something I’ve been hearing about a lot lately. I thought the lovely Miss Lain might know what’s going on.”

“Well, I don’t,” I said. “Not yet.”

“Perhaps you will when I’m finished, then,” he said. “I was on my way home around three or four in the morning when a group of masked men and rather strong people attacked me. One of them had a stun gun.”

Nate and I exchanged glances. Why was someone murdering witches and trying to capture vampires?

“Anyway, I was actually concerned for you, Zara,” Jamie said, suddenly all serious. He ran a hand through his short blond hair and shook his head, brows furrowed in frustration. “In over a hundred years I’ve never heard of anything like this. Sure, there’s warring among the races, but never have multiple groups been hit en masse like this.”

“Do you have some contacts you can hit up for information?” I asked.

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “No one seems to be talking, but there are still a few places I can go.”

“Good—do that tonight and we’ll meet up tomorrow.”

Jamie agreed, stood, and started for the elevator.

“And don’t be coming through my window anymore,” I reminded him.

“Will you be okay?” he asked just as he stepped into the elevator. He gestured at Nate. “The kid there hardly looks up to the job of protector.”

Nate muttered a few words and a split second later the cage door flew shut—nearly catching Jamie’s foot—and the elevator rumbled as it descended.

“Considering I kicked
your
ass, I think it’s your own protection you should be worried about,” I called as Jamie disappeared. Shit. Vampire hearing or not, he probably didn’t hear me. I
hated
not getting my snarky remarks in.

“I don’t like him,” Nate said.

Surprise of the fucking century
. “I don’t think he likes you either.” I popped open one of the boxes Nate had brought in with him, plucked the shoulder harness and belt off the top, and started loading up. A couple of guns  on either side—Desert Eagles were on my list, since I could handle them and I knew Nate was a fan—and I strapped another to my boot. I had an array of knives, too, which I stowed in various spots on my person. Magazines into various pockets. It weighed me down a bit, but I was pretty much good to go.

“Is all this necessary?” Nate asked as he followed suit.

I slipped on my black, knee-length coat. “I’m not going anywhere unprepared again”

He looked me up and down.
Still
not checking me out except to survey my weapons, probably. The bastard. “Nice jacket.”

“You won’t believe where I got it...”

Chapter Sixteen

The Missing Demonologist

Nate explained a bit about his contact on the way out of the city. Peter Fields had been a friend since boarding school days—I nearly rolled my eyes at talk of fucking “boarding school” and these damn rich kids—and the friendship continued during years of university overseas and afterwards. He specialized in demonology, and was viewed and respected as an expert in that particular area of paranormal studies. Though he wasn’t a warlock, various covens employed him for many reasons, including as tutor and researcher. Nate thought there was a chance Peter could determine who had been at Mishka’s apartment the night before, and from there we might be able to learn who sent them.

Fields lived in a hamlet about a dozen miles outside the city. He ran a small, regular bookshop as a front for his extensive demonological library, and lived in the apartment above it. The store sat on a corner lot, on its own; it had been an old house at some point before being turned into a shop. Unused fields sprawled into the night behind it. As I pulled my red Mini Cooper up to the front, I scanned the windows for lights, but found none.

I cut the engine and turned to Nate. “You said you tried calling?”

“Yes...” His voice trailed off as he turned in the seat to survey the road behind us. “You know, I could have sworn I saw a car tailing us.”

I’d seen the vehicle as well. A sports car—make and model I couldn’t determine—had shadowed us since we left the downtown core, but disappeared a few blocks ago.

“It might have been nothing,” I suggested as we got out. I didn’t mean it, but I was less concerned since both Nate and I were well-armed with some serious firepower this time around.

A “Sorry, We’re Closed” sign hung in the window. The front door was locked so I brought out my picks and in moments we were inside.

Nate flipped on a flashlight and led the way through the dark store, past a curtained doorway, and into the demonology area. Shelves of books lined the walls, and rows of even more shelves separated the room into smaller sections. Hardwood floors, polished and sturdy, creaked under foot. There’d be no sneaking up on this Fields guy—if he was home, he would’ve called the cops to report a burglary the moment anyone stepped inside.

I stepped to one bookshelf and perused the spines. “I had no idea people actually wrote so many books about demons.”

Nate grinned and for some reason the action irritated me, like he knew something I didn’t. “The demonology publishing industry is quite lucrative. Peter’s mother’s company is one of the top publishers of educational texts—they do limited print runs and collectors pay a lot for the books.”

Well, now I’d heard of everything. But then covens were wealthy and they were probably the type to drop serious bucks on Encyclopedia Demonica. Demon Hunters, too, might get a kick out of that sort of thing, and
that
thought gave my gut a twist. “So if he’s gone, what’s the point in us being here?”

“I can’t see him simply leaving.” Nate paused at the desk in the corner and flipped through the calendar. “He prides himself on his collection of books, and if they’re all still here, then he plans to come back soon.”

In the back corner of the room, a closed door waited. The stupid floor creaked some more as I stepped forward. A heavy deadbolt was over the doorknob—storeroom? Or something else? I got my picks in hand, went to work on the lock, and in moments the door swung open; behind it was a set of steep circular steps leading up.

“That would be Peter’s place,” Nate said.

Looked like a back stairwell—we’d probably passed another near the front of the old house. I glanced Nate’s way, a little smile curving my lips. “Let’s go see if he left us a clue then.”

The upper rooms consisted of a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living area, all connected by a long hallway down the middle. Old house like this, all the rooms probably used to be bedrooms. We hit the...I guess it would be a den-slash-study first. Nate cast the flashlight over the space, revealing even more stacks of books scattered everywhere. I could see why we needed Peter for information: if we were to go through the books ourselves, there’s no telling how long it might take. What the fuck is wrong with bookworms—they never heard of a computer database or something? Christ.