First Blood Read online

  Ritual magic was actually rather tedious. A lot of it consisted of sitting around waiting for the cosmic phone to be picked up by some other entity along the line. The vampires had fancier names for it, but she wasn’t a vampire and—

  All her senses tingled, including some she’d rather didn’t when she was naked and alone.

  Ah-ha! So there was a vampire involved.

  Vampires smelled bad and tasted worse, but they always made you think of sex. They could also always be counted on whenever trouble popped up for her pack. It was vampires that had started the trouble in the first place. Well, to be fair, vampires had gotten unwittingly involved in a demon’s scheme and the problem hadn’t been resolved for nearly two thousand years. It was the vampires’ fault, of course. The moment they got involved in anything, it got complicated. They couldn’t just deal with life and death and black and white. Oh, no, things had shades of gray for them, not just gray, but an entire spectrum of colors and emotions that werewolves didn’t want or need. It was probably because the strigoi started out as humans to begin with and brought all that mortal baggage with them when they stepped over into the supernatural world.

  Tess realized she’d let resentment of being woken lead her off on a very humanlike, distracted tangent. She smiled. “Ah, but the machinations of magic are varied and subtle—even for a werewolf well-trained in the arcane . . . and stuff like that.”

  She laughed, and suddenly knew what the psychic alarm was trying to tell her, besides that there were demons scheming, monsters on the loose, and mortals in danger. The magical wards that twisted and turned like invisible smoke around Syrilla’s Litter had picked up some useful data for her. She had a clue that the most emotional vampire of them all was at the heart of it.

  She laughed again as she rose to her feet. It was bravado to cover a shudder of fear, knowing she had to confront Valentine.

  THREE

  KRAAS COULDN’T KEEP FROM WAITING FOR THE police to arrive, though it took longer than he expected. Nothing happened with the instant efficiency the way the magic box showed police investigations. But since he wanted to know what they had to say at this first of what would be many such events, he lingered.

  Hunting humans was always fun, and it was especially so at the moment, when his weapon of choice was a puppy. The victims had come into the park after it closed as Kraas had watched them do before. He’d loosed the hellhound and it had trotted forward into the mortals’ midst. The youths saw the pretty black dog and immediately surrounded it. Whether they meant to pet it or take their bats to it didn’t matter because the hellhound struck first. Kraas snatched up the hound and ran before the boys’ screams died away.

  With the little one safely hidden away, Kraas returned and climbed the tree. He felt safe to indulge himself for a little while. Tonight’s work had been spectacular for the young hound and the demon was full of pride and anticipation.

  Kraas breathed deeply, enjoying the stink of oozing guts mingled with the scent of blood on the warm evening breeze. Flies circled and settled on the four corpses on the park’s baseball field. They were waiting for the officer by the fence to stop vomiting so they could settle there as well.

  Such a beautiful sight, Kraas thought. Such a beautiful night.

  “Four bodies,” one of the detectives said. “What caused this much damage?”

  A technician looked up from where she squatted, her face a stark white circle in the glare of the field’s spotlights. “Squirrels?” she suggested. When the detective glared she pointed at the wound she’d been examining. “Look at those bite marks. They’re from something small.”

  “Rabid raccoons?” someone else spoke up.

  “Come on!” the detective barked. “No more jokes. These people were murdered!”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions,” the tech advised. She went back to her examination.

  The irritated detective looked like he wanted to pace, but he stayed perfectly still. He didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene, Kraas supposed.

  What a fine puzzle he’d set for them. It didn’t matter for him, of course, except as entertainment. Feeding his hellhound on soul-sucking death was what mattered. The mortals would suffer many such losses before his little darling was ready for the greatest hunt. The hound would grow strong and powerful on the blood and souls of many mortals before it could be loosed on vampires, then the vampires that preyed on vampires. And finally—

  “Valentine.” Kraas breathed the name almost reverently, though in truth it was a curse.

  Someday soon the hellhound would make a sacrifice of the old bitch herself. Only when the great kill was made could the work truly begin.

  TESS saw the news about the killings on a podcast in the back of a shuttle on her way to the airport. She stared at the small iPhone screen, silently mouthing obscenities, mundane and magical, as she could do nothing to show her outrage in such a public place. As it was, the other passengers in the van gave her strange looks.

  Putting down a hellhound was not as easy as it sounded— come to think of it, it didn’t sound easy—and this one was already feeding.

  The killings stank of ritual magic and human sacrifice. Maybe the vampires had finally realized the true purpose of hellhounds and were putting their pets to work. The murders had been in Santa Barbara and reinforced her belief that the Los Angeles-based Valentine was involved.

  “But why?” she whispered. She fought off the urge to howl with impatience. She had a three-hour flight ahead of her before she could even begin to find answers. She had to conserve her energy until then.

  “I’M going to be out of town for a while,” Dan told Olympias, the supervisor of all the other Enforcers in the country. She even lived in Washington, D.C.

  “Are you asking permission?” the rich female voice on the end of the phone line asked. “Or do you want a favor?”

  “Perceptive, aren’t you?” he replied.

  “I know how hard it is to find a pet sitter. You could use a vacation. How many years has it been since you left Tucson?”

  “As the Law in these parts—”

  He was interrupted by her laughter. “You have the best-behaved nests and strigs on the continent. Anyone who breeds hellhounds for a hobby would.”

  Bringing up the hellhounds was the opening he needed. “I’m looking for a dog sitter. That’s the favor you suspected I called about. No one is better with hellhounds than you are. I could really use your help.”

  “Pouring the flattery on a little thick, aren’t you, Gladiator?”

  Dan wondered if she was reminding him that she’d once been a queen and he’d been a lowly slave. But he couldn’t take offense, not when the word could as easily be a nickname here in the twenty-first century.

  “Are you being over-sensitive?” she asked when he didn’t answer immediately.

  He used the tone of guilt in her voice. “I’d appreciate your help. Baby has a pup. When’s the last time you saw a hellhound pup?”

  “Not since Bitch was little.”

  “That was at least five hundred years ago.” Bitch was Olympias’s pet.

  Across the miles he heard a sigh that was both longing and exasperation. “I need to get Bitch out of Washington to avoid some werewolves that will be in town for the Save the Earth rally,” she said. “But the plan was to head for Las Vegas.”

  “It’s more peaceful here,” he said. “And there’s a puppy.” No Enforcer was soft-hearted, not when they ate the hearts of other vampires for snacks, but everyone had soft spots that could be manipulated. Like him, Olympias’s was for dogs.

  “I love puppies.”

  “I know.”

  “And we could use some private time,” she said.

  He didn’t ask who we were, though it was likely she had a new mortal companion. “I promise that you won’t be disturbed, with the house all to yourself. Bring Bitch and come for a visit. How soon can you be here?” he added.

  “My car’s already packed.” She sigh
ed. “Okay, Las Vegas can wait. Put Baby under a sleep spell I can break and leave a key in the mailbox.”

  “I’ll do that,” he answered. “Thanks.”

  Dan hung up before Olympias could change her mind.

  FOUR

  “WE NEED TO TALK.”

  “Damn,” Valentine said. She was more annoyed with herself than with the person standing on the balcony behind her.

  She knew she was distracted, and the hotel was full of vampires, which certainly messed with a girl’s brainwaves, but she should have sensed his approach. Of course, she hadn’t been aware of him since the companion connection had been severed between them several years before. She didn’t miss the time when such awareness had been a constant ache. She’d missed him.

  “I’m busy, Yevgeny.”

  “How busy can you be when you’ve been staring into space for the last hour?”

  He’d lived in the States for going on sixty years, yet his voice still held a hint of Russian accent. She still found the sound hot. “Damn,” she muttered again.

  She’d actually been staring at the lights of the Las Vegas strip far below her penthouse suite. He came closer and put his hands on her shoulders. She automatically leaned back against his wide chest. She was small and he was very large, but somehow it had always been a remarkably good fit.

  “I’m pining,” she told him, “and brooding.”

  “You don’t have a Russian soul, brooding doesn’t suit you.”

  He was right. He generally was. She’d missed that, too.

  “You feel different,” she said after a few minutes.

  “I am a vampire now,” he answered.

  Of course. She’d refused to turn him, so he’d gotten someone else to do it. She didn’t know why that should leave her feeling betrayed, or why the differences disturbed her. His body temperature was lower than a mortal’s. Not by much, but enough to notice. His heart beat, but at a much slower rate than before. Blood flowed, but it was different blood now than when he’d been—well, alive—though he wasn’t actually dead.

  “I liked you better as a mortal, Yevgeny.”

  Maybe that was the reason she’d kept him on far longer than was good for him. Maybe that was why she’d refused to change him. Maybe her excuses about not wanting to make any more monsters were just ways of pretending she had noble intentions.

  “You just don’t like change,” he said. “You are remarkably, happily, set in your ways. You’ll like me better when you get used to me.”

  No one had ever known her so well. “I won’t.”

  He pressed her a little closer. “No one sulks as well as you do. Brooding no, sulking yes.”

  “That’s not exactly a compliment.”

  “It’s time for honesty between us at last.”

  She continued looking at the city despite the temptation to break his grip and whirl to face him. She didn’t want to look at him. Even now that they were no longer connected, she feared seeing her beautiful blond giant might stir the old desire. Not possible, but old habits were hard to break.

  “I never lied to you,” she said.

  Fingers began to massage her tense shoulders. “Perhaps not, but you must own to other—abuses.”

  Okay, so she’d kidnapped him away from the family and country he loved and made him her sex slave for fifty-plus years. She shrugged under his hands. “Yeah, well . . .”

  “I’m ready to forgive you,” he added.

  In other words, he needed something. She sighed. “How did you find me?”

  “Jebel Haven’s a friend of mine. In a recent e-mail, he mentioned having adventures with you.”

  Pain shot through her at hearing Haven’s name, but she managed not to flinch. Her fingers curled around the balcony railing, but the hotel had been built by vampires and the metal didn’t crush. “What’s a nice man like you doing hanging out with a mortal vampire hunter like Haven?”

  “He’s not a bad guy, as long as you don’t turn your back on him. What have you been doing with Haven?”

  Lady, but there were a lot of layers in that question! “Making mistakes,” she answered.

  “I’ve heard rumors of dragons,” he said.

  “That would make a great title for something.” Once a writer, always a writer, she supposed. “And it was only one dragon.”

  “I heard that you and Haven saved Las Vegas from the dragon.”

  “Haven did the work.”

  “And that you gave him your blood to save his life.”

  Longing twisted her, mind, body, and soul. Her blood was in Haven, but where was he? She’d given him her soul and Haven had rejected it.

  “He’s mine now!” Tears blurred all the pretty lights below. She let out a feral growl. “The ungrateful bastard ran off with his girlfriend.”

  “What would a nice lady like you do with a man like Haven? Is his blood in you?” he asked after she was silent for a while. “It isn’t, is it? You don’t love him.”

  “Instinct says he’s mine,” she answered. “Instinct is all I have to go on.”

  He laughed. “You’ve ignored instinct before.”

  She finally turned to face him, though she regretted it when she saw the bitterness twisting his handsome face. “I was trying to help you.”

  “By driving me crazy?”

  “It was a mistake to refuse to help you turn. I admit it. Maybe saving Haven was a mistake, too, but—”

  “Doing the wrong thing for the right reasons again?” He suddenly smiled. “At least you always try. That’s why I love you.”

  It sounded good, and brought them back to why he was here. “What do you want? You didn’t come here to talk. You need my help.”

  Yevgeny stepped back. “You know how Daniel Conover will give away the animals he breeds but he won’t sell them? How he treats them better than most strigoi do their mortal companions?”

  “Dan has good reasons for that. Besides, those creatures are smarter and more valuable than most companions.”

  Yevgeny, who’d been her companion far longer than any other, carefully refrained from the angry reply she saw in his eyes. “But companions are much easier to housebreak.”

  “And how would you know—” She shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, no, tell me you don’t have one of those monsters? You’re too young to deal with a hellhound. Dan wouldn’t give you one.”

  “Of course not,” Yevgeny answered. Before she could sigh in relief, he added, “I stole it from him.”

  “He’s going to kill you. And I’m not going to protect you.”

  “I’m not asking you to. That’s not why I’m here. I took the puppy knowing that the law states that if you can keep one for a year it belongs to you. I made the decision going into it that I could elude Conover for a year.”

  “That’s not a law, it’s a tradition. Dan doesn’t have to stop hunting you for the theft if he doesn’t want to.”

  “It wasn’t theft. I left him a generous payment for the puppy.”

  “You could have just put your name on the waiting list.”

  “I’m a strig, he’d never consider giving a hellhound to a vampire that lives outside the Laws of the Blood. Even if he would put me on his list of potential owners it would be a while before he considered me old enough to deal with one of his darlings.” Yevgeny laughed. “I was not prepared to wait until hell freezes over. Sebastian’s birthday is coming up soon.”

  “Oh, good Goddess! You want a hellhound for a child? You’re not trying to kill him again are you?”

  He drew himself up to his full height. “I have sworn to protect Sebastian Avella with my life.”

  Now didn’t that sound just like Yevgeny? He was an absolutely brilliant sorcerer and had decided to use ritual magic to turn himself into a vampire when she refused to do the deed for him. He’d kidnapped young Sebastian, a dhamphir—the unlawful offspring of a vampire and a Romany woman—to sacrifice in the spell. Only at the last moment he’d come to his senses and been unable to mur
der a child, even one that was genetically programmed to grow up and become a vampire hunter.

  “Of course you’d appoint yourself the kid’s guardian angel of death to assuage your guilt.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  “He’s a menace to our kind, and now you want to give him a hellhound?”

  “He wants a puppy for his birthday.”

  She didn’t understand it, but then, she’d never had children as a mortal, whereas Yevgeny had been a loving father. And she’d taken him away from being able to raise his children to serve her insatiable sexual needs. Damn, those had been fun years! So of course now he was about to play on her guilt over her own misdeeds to draw her into this birthday present scheme.

  “The kid’s already a spoiled brat,” she pointed out. “If he wants a dog let his parents get him a rottweiler.”

  “A hellhound will help keep him safe.” He looked a bit sheepish. “At least it will when it’s properly socialized.”

  Valentine crossed her arms under her ample breasts. “That’s what you came here for? To get me to help you with dog training?”

  Yevgeny smiled. “Well, Cesar Millan isn’t available.”

  She had no idea what that meant. “Why do you think I can be of any help?”

  “Because back when Conover called himself Corvei you helped him raise the first litter of hellhounds.”

  The problem with having lived with Yevgeny for so long was that there was very little about her she hadn’t told him. “We shared too much,” she complained. “Strigoi shouldn’t be so damn—domestic.”

  He took her hands. “Come with me.”

  She pulled them away. “I’m busy!”

  “Waiting for a man who doesn’t want to come back to you?”

  “It doesn’t matter what he—” She managed to stop herself as she remembered who she was talking to.

  He had no qualms about using her hesitation. “Haven doesn’t really matter to you or you’d be searching for him yourself instead of sending someone to look for him. Put your time to use and come with me.”

  The sight of Yevgeny was seductive; his voice was seductive. His needing her was the most seductive of all, even if it was only to help housetrain one of Corvei’s nasty little pets. She’d thought she’d put Yevgeny out of her mind as she had every other companion that had gone into the night as a strigoi, but she’d missed him far more than any of the others. She just hadn’t realized it until now.