Читать книгу Fury Calls - Caridad Piñeiro - Страница 11

The Blood Bank, present day

Even before the knock on the door, Foley knew trouble had landed on his doorstep.

Not that he was unused to trouble. Running the Blood Bank included dealing with an underworld of both humans and vampires who thought trouble was just another word for fun. A night didn’t go by when there wasn’t violence of some kind in the club, not that he minded. A good fight with spilt blood always satisfied the darker aspects of his persona.

Amazingly, it was usually the vampires who were the easier ones to control during any kind of disagreement. They knew the rules and that the penalties for breaking them would be swiftly enforced. Justice delayed was justice denied, he thought, as with a last suck he reluctantly pulled himself away from that night’s plaything.

She fell away limply, her eyes unfocused from the blood loss. The bite mark on her neck was vivid against the flush on her skin.

Rising from the bed in the back room, Foley swept his gaze over the young woman’s prone body. It was made for pleasure, he thought. He itched to join her once again and finish both feeding and loving, but another knock came at the door, more insistent than the one before.

That wasn’t what got him moving away from his beautiful dinner companion.

He is here, Foley thought, suddenly sensing the other vampire’s presence and the growing anger. The last thing Foley wanted to do was to piss him off.

In a blur of vampire speed, he dressed and raced out the door to the small office he kept beyond the Blood Bank’s well-known back rooms and beside a larger meeting space, where the vampires sometimes joined into a council to dispense their sure brand of justice.

Foley paused at the door and drew in a breath to steady his nerves. It had been nearly three years since the last time the Blood Bank’s real owner had made his presence known. His visit today could only mean one thing.

Trouble.

Immediately upon entering the room, Foley felt the strength of the other vampire’s power take hold of him. It roughly forced him down to his knees as the vampire said, “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“I’m sorry, Sun Tze. I was—”

“Feeding. I can smell her blood. Come here,” he said, raising his hand and, with that movement, pulling Foley back up from his knees as if he were no more than a puppet on a string.

Fear so strong he almost wet himself slammed into Foley’s gut as he obeyed and approached the other vampire. As he did so, he examined Sun Tze Lee, thinking that little had changed about him in the century since they had first crossed paths.

Lee’s dark, almond-shaped eyes glittered with amusement at his dread, and a smile split his full lips, displaying perfect white teeth with a hint of fang that refused to go away. Lee had spent too much time in his vampire state for them to ever be normal again. The broad plains of Lee’s ruthlessly handsome face had a telltale flush of color.

He had fed recently, Foley realized, but he also knew Lee intended to feast on him. Lee’s dining would have nothing to do with satisfying his hunger. It would be all about reasserting the control he had claimed over Foley when they had run into each other during the Boxer Rebellion.

On a lark, Foley had headed to Beijing, then known as Peking, tired of the pickings in Dublin and intrigued by the talk of all the exotic delights he might find in China. He had arrived at the outbreak of the rebellion and realized that the time would be good for feeding and satisfying the demands of his body.

Sun Tze Lee had been there with a horde of fellow Chinese vampires—kiang-shi, as they were called—to drive away the foreigners exerting too much influence on their homeland and to sate their bloodlust in the course of the battle.

The fighting in Beijing hadn’t lasted too long—fifty-five days, to be exact. But in that time, Lee and the other kiang-shi had decimated not only the foreign civilians and soldiers in the area, but also thousands of Chinese Christians in the city and in provinces like Shandong.

Lee had come upon him as he was draining a beautiful Chinese girl just beyond the steps of the Catholic church to which she had been trying to flee. He supposed now, as he took the final step that brought him close to Lee, that he had been lucky in a way. Instead of ripping his throat out for being a foreigner, Lee had decided to feed from him and make him his slave.

For over a hundred years, Foley had done whatever Lee ordered, and so when he’d entered the office and Lee had said, “On your knees,” Foley had immediately complied.

The Chinese vampire now smiled and cupped Foley’s face in his hands. With an almost tender touch he stroked his jaw with long, graceful fingers, urging Foley to bare his neck.

Foley did as he was bid, closing his eyes as a wave of desire skittered across his body, awakening unwanted passion. With a chuckle, Lee softly said, “Do not fear. We will get to that later.”

Which was just what Foley was afraid of. He whimpered and finally did wet himself as he recalled the last time Lee had taken him. The Asian vampire had been brutal and uncaring of how much damage he had done.

Dreading a repeat of that performance, Foley said, “Master—”

“Sssh, Daniel,” Lee began, using his given name the way one might a lover’s, only Lee knew nothing of love. Only conquest and pain, Foley thought.

“You will enjoy it, Daniel. You always do,” Lee said, beginning to transform. The black of his eyes literally bled out and became glowing embers of red. The black of his hair receded, replaced by the palest strands of glistening white, making him look almost albino.

But it was his fangs that snared and held Foley’s attention.

From the small buds he had noticed earlier burst shiny white and lethally long fangs that extended well beyond the lower jaw. Needle-sharp, they could easily pierce the toughest of hides, but what Lee clearly wanted tonight was him.

Before he could protest, Lee forced aside Foley’s head and perforated the skin at his neck to sink his teeth deep into an artery.

The pain of the kiang-shi’s bite seared along Foley’s nerves and exploded in the center of his brain like a supernova. The explosion continued outward, tearing into every sensitive synapse in its path, creating fiery agony in each cell of his body.

Foley screamed, his harsh guttural cry resounding in the confines of his small office.

Against his neck, Lee’s throaty laughter erupted. In his brain came Lee’s insistent command.

Scream some more. I love it when you scream.

Blake noticed the way Diego’s nose wrinkled in apparent disgust and how Ryder Latimer, the other co-owner of Otro Mundo, eyeballed him the way a father might a virgin daughter’s first date.

“What is that smell?” Diego said.

The debonair vampire, chic in a charcoal gray suit that probably cost more than Blake had ever made in both his lifetimes combined, walked from around his large desk and stood beside him. Diego bent from his greater height, took another sniff and said, “Mothballs?”

“Is that getup for real?” Ryder asked. He motioned with his finger to the rather dated, dark blue polyester suit Blake had lifted from the Goodwill store earlier in the day.

Blake tugged at the lapels of the jacket and inched his head up defiantly. “Didn’t think the chains and leather would make a good impression during an interview.”

“An interview?” Diego said with a sneer. He sat on the edge of his desk and across the way from Ryder, who lounged lazily in the chair beside where Blake stood.

Blake fought the urge to fidget beneath the probing glances of both vampires. With his head tilted upward at a defiant angle, he said, “Heard you were still hiring. Thought it was about time I had some gainful employment. ”

“What you really mean is that you want to stalk Meghan up close and personal.” Diego crossed his arms, straining the fabric of the suit across his powerful shoulders.

“It’s not a good idea, Blake,” Ryder added, his tone a trifle more friendly, but tinged with concern.

“Look, I know the little chit probably wants nothing to do with me—”

“‘Probably’ being a major understatement,” Ryder said with a chuckle. Then he grew more serious and continued. “If I recall correctly, she spent the first year of her undead life trying to rip your throat out.”

“Or put a stake through your heart,” Diego added.

It was hard to argue with them when they were right, Blake thought. “Things have changed since then.”

“That’s right, amigo. Things changed when you betrayed me to the man who killed Esperanza.” Diego rose from the desk and came to stand nose to nose with him, his posture more challenging than it had been before. “You do remember that you nearly cost us all our lives during that little escapade.”

Meeting Diego’s gaze, he noted the telltale blossoming of neon green in his eyes that said the other vampire was battling to rein in his anger. Blake had no desire for Diego to lose that control. He was no match physically for Diego—or even Ryder, for that matter. But that didn’t mean he would give up so easily or tuck his tail in like a whipped dog.

Rising on tiptoe until he nearly bumped noses with Diego, he said, “I saved your life and the little chit’s.”

Turning to Ryder, he pointed to him and said, “And I’ve helped you and yours out of more than one scrape.”

Ryder surged from his seat, all earlier traces of friendliness gone, and came to stand beside Diego. “Which makes you an Eagle Scout all of a sudden?”

“All I want is a job.”

“And a chance to see Meghan every day,” Diego pressed.

True, not that he would admit it. “I won’t bother her.”

“Why do I find that so hard to believe?” Ryder said, before plopping back down in his chair.

“Maybe because in the same circumstances, you wouldn’t leave her alone, either,” Blake said, earning a chuckle from Ryder, who also acknowledged the statement with a nod. He pressed on, “Look, mates. I’ve had your backs and it seems to me you could use a few more friends to watch out for you, considering what happened the other night.”

With a surge of speed and power, Diego had him by the throat, his feet dangling off the ground. “What do you know about that?”

“Just what I saw from the alley afterward, but there’s all kinds of rumors floating around about what happened to those two vamps,” he replied in a choked voice, all he could muster thanks to the force of Diego’s grip on his throat.

Diego tossed him away and leaned on the edge of the desk.

Ryder faced him and in a calm voice asked, “What kinds of rumors?”

“Suicide pact. Murder. Humans wanting revenge. You name it.” With a nonchalant shrug, Blake continued. “So what really happened?”

Diego and Ryder exchanged a look, as if considering whether or not to answer, but then Ryder admitted, “We don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Isn’t your little FBI friend—”

“Diana’s out of this, Blake,” Ryder said, the tone of his voice growing harsh.

“Lover’s spat?” he tossed out without a thought, but was sorry he did so at Ryder’s reaction.

Ryder bowed his head and took a deep breath. His body grew frighteningly still the way the air turned dead before a storm. Diego reached out, laid a hand on Ryder’s shoulder and asked, “Amigo, are you okay?”

Ryder nodded and then faced Blake once again, his eyes glittering with the harsh bright color of the vampire. A low rumble filled Ryder’s voice and a hint of fang became visible as he spoke. “You want us to think you’re honorable? That you understand friendship and respect—”

“I’m sorry, Ryder. I didn’t mean anything about Diana.”

“We’ll give you a job, Blake.” Ryder rose slowly from the chair, his hands clenched at his sides. He stood before Blake, his troubled gaze boring into him and his face fully transformed to that of the vampire. Considering that Ryder kept the vampire in check more often than any of them, Blake knew it was not a good sign. Ryder made his demands. When he was finished he added, “And we’ll expect you to respect us and do as you’re told. Understood?”

Blake hated the feeling of unworthiness that both men brought out in him, but he was determined to get this job and prove them wrong. He wanted to show all of them he was reliable and trustworthy. He wanted to prove to Meghan that he wasn’t the no-account she thought him to be.

“Understood, mate.”