Minty
I don’t have a sister, I was an orphan. I don’t believe in Vampires, they are myths that make interesting movies.
Say this three times and three women find out that what they had believed in all their lives was wrong, they had sisters and there were Vampires.
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Minty
Copyright © 2013
M. Garnet
ISBN: 978-1-77111-471-4
Cover art by Carmen Waters
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Minty
Blood Sisters 2
By
M. Garnet
Dedicated to three special gal friends, so it only seems natural that I write three stories about three women and their loves, no matter how strange love might be.
Since I started these stories some time ago, I had dedicated them to three friends, since there are three sisters in these stories. But we have lost one of our friends, so hopefully she is still enjoying my follies, as she watches over my shoulder.
Prologue
The museum was the most amazing place she had ever seen. She was back in an orphanage, shuffled between foster homes and into some nameless group home with nameless others without families.
This was free, the homes looked for cheap and free, and someone had found transportation for them. Unlike the other kids, she fell in love with the stories, not the artists, not the space to run in, not the echoes.
The stories behind the pictures, the words she read within the faces and frozen movements were what fascinated her.
She saw a beautiful painting called
Death and the Maiden
. Where others seemed to shudder, she saw that the maiden did not resist the horrid corpse that was caressing her. She had her palm up on his face in a soft acceptance.
She paused before another called
A Dance of Death
. The men and women were dressed in beautiful flowing robes, but there were ugly macabre characters dancing around them. What she saw was that the beautiful people accepted the fright.
There was a beautiful pale painting of three naked people, two beautiful women and one ugly, bony man with an hourglass, seeming to lead the two women. They did not resist him. One of the boys giggled at the naked women and the assistant hurried them out of the room.
Over the afternoon she learned to stay quiet and linger in front of any painting that spoke to her, until finally a disgusted volunteer came and pulled her to join the smelly bus that took them back to the dark, cramped home. But wait, did that man in that painting have fangs, as if to bite deep into the woman? Yet the woman did not seem to be pulling away. She thought about the painting long into the night on her rough bunk.
Chapter One
The dark streets of Cicero were the perfect haven for all on the wrong side of the law, no matter what law it was. There had been a time where this suburb of Chicago had been the place to build and take a rich man’s family. The working class had also discovered it and many modest but pleasant homes had filled up the streets that expanded away from the business districts of Chicago.
In the 1920’s and 30’s the gangsters had moved in, and more with big money came in during the takeover’s in the 50’s. It had still remained a safe haven with lots of better class people living among the gangsters, who kept it safe since no one robbed anyone who had the thugs with guns to protect them.
But as the law broke down, so did the property values. The houses got sub-divided into multi-family units or cheap hotels, and the outsides were not taken care of, so there came crime to the streets. The people of ill repute migrated away from the towering buildings of Chicago to these types of outskirts. The rich gangsters moved west or east and their sergeants moved in, without the strength to enforce any compliance from the smartass street gangs.
The few honest blue-collar workers walked carefully and locked up completely and tried to avoid the streets at night.
It was the perfect place for a meeting in a basement off a dirty dark alley that was scattered with garbage that never made it to the front sidewalks for the weekly pickup. Only this meeting was not a group of street thugs. Anyone who walked in could tell the difference immediately.
They might be dressed to be street thugs. Heavy boots, dark cargo pants or dark jeans, all crossed with chains. Leather jackets with worn creases, the sagging to indicate some types of weapons or heavy objects in the pockets.
Still, they were all tall, broad shouldered, healthy looking, and for the most part handsome men. Very few scars showed, but there was still a look of danger, even evil about them. The talk was low and hushed. At the edge of the alley, under a burnt out streetlight, stood a shadow that was not part of the street, building, or alley. He looked around, seeming to be alone, but he knew where his men were, all close enough for the right purpose.
A low rider cruised past and he ignored it as he waited patiently for the meeting to end and the attendees to come out. He swore under his breath as the low rider came back, music cranking out of its open windows. The car stopped and one brave, drugged-out boy, trying to earn his marks in the gang, jumped out with his Glock tilted sideways at the large dark figure.
“You don’t really want to do this.” The large shadow turned to look at him and spoke in a quiet voice. The kid was a little spooked that the man did not seem to be upset by the gun and the gang in the car behind him. Most people ran.
“Fuck you, hand me yo’ cash.” He side-walked closer, looking over his shoulder at his cronies in the car.
Suddenly the shadow had his hands on the gun and the boy’s hand. He had possession of the gun and turned it around, and holding one of the kid’s fingers, he jammed the trigger finger into the barrel. The kid screamed in pain as the flesh pealed back from the bone being pushed into the small opening. The towering male walked the screaming kid back to the open car door and pushed him in. He gave a mental order for the driver to leave and the car squealed away. He looked down the alley but there had not been any appearance. It was not a surprise. Screams and gunshots were normal nighttime noises on these streets.
He did feel a real irritation. One of his men was approaching him. They knew to let him be the first in the fight and so they waited, until he called them in
—
so why would one be brazen enough to approach? His crooked grin broke on his harsh face. The man dressed all in black and ready for war was his blood brother, Alexander Bider, also a Council Lord.
Alex stopped by the corner of the building so that he would not be seen by anyone down the alley.
“Slumming, brother, or does Rome bore you?” The whisper came from the crooked smile of Rad’s.
Alex put a long slim cigar into his lips and lit it with his gold lighter. The flare of the bright flame lit up the handsome face. Long blond hair, clear deep blue eyes the color of the south-seas ocean, a mouth that women fought over to kiss, and a solid chin. But tonight, a hardness from the drawn eyebrows down, which would not let anyone be fooled by the handsome face. Tonight the look said death and destruction.
“I had a request from a friend to visit Chicago, but the heat in my blood said to come and join you while I was in the area. You know how the heat goes in my blood more than anyone else.” His blue eyes disappeared as the flame went out, but Rad knew he looked at the alley with anticipation.
Yes, Rad loved this man, but he also knew the man’s dark side. The need to hunt, to hurt, and even to kill, was a part of him that he might keep hidden from a lot of those around him. It was hidden behind the beautiful face and smooth muscular body. He had also kept it hidden from those he had close contact with. But Rad knew of it, because there had been a time or two when Rad had been called to help clean up some mess that had gotten out of hand. Alex was a Dom and had learned to choose mates, female or male, who sought to be submissive. But there had been a time or two, as he had learned his control and his needs, that he had read someone wrong and forced the wrong attentions on someone, and needed Rad’s strong talents to help wipe memories and heal someone up.
Now that he had Rad’s mate’s blood in him, the magical serum had served to help him avoid any mistakes. Big help. But Rad had to smile inside, because the beautiful face made a formidable ally when it came to a fight. Alex just did not stop. It did not hurt that he enjoyed what he did.
“How many?” The low question came from Alex as he stepped closer to Rad.
“An unlucky number, thirteen. I have backup just down the street.” Rad nodded in the direction of his team.
“Fucking unlucky for them, but not for your backup. I don’t think we will really need them.” Alex took a long pull on the slim, then dropped and twisted his boot over it.
Rad sent a message to his team. Cover both ends of the alley. No one hits the streets alive. Leave the alley itself to us. He nodded at Alex, and Alex was gone. The large blur of his body was at the other end of the alley.
They both started walking into the alley as the first of the rogue Vamps came out of the basement door, exiting up the short flight of steps. The rogues were on alert and they noticed immediately one or two strangers, but were not too worried. Yet.
The rogues began to split up and everyone saw the knives come out. This would be a quiet fight, unlike the gang fights. This was meant to take out and destroy the enemy, not to make any statement, except for the statement of elimination.
For Rad it was too simple. He was so much stronger since absorbing the blood of his female. He froze the first male as the male approached, driving his silver knife deep into the male’s heart. Behind him two more split up to try to take him before he could enter their minds. He went shadow and they could not see him. He was solid behind one. He drove the knife behind and into his heart, and immediately was deflecting the next one’s knife as it did take a shallow slice from his shoulder.
He felt no pain as he drove the other’s knife hand upward, brought his other hand up with his second knife, and plunged it first into the attackers stomach then mercifully into his heart. By this time two more were advancing. He went shadow to move into position. He dispatched the first one when he went solid and the second threw his arm up in surrender, but there was no surrender in this war, so the knife ended his attempt. As Rad turned to take on another, he saw his brother in blood at the other end of the alley.