Sweet Blood of Mine (Overworld Chronicles #1)

Sweet Blood of Mine (Overworld Chronicles #1) Page 43

"Let her go," I said, mapping out the route which was least likely to get me shot.

The armed thug's finger twitched. I blurred left, as the gunshot popped. I cut right. Grabbed his gun arm, and slammed him in the shoulder. His arm snapped like a twig. I took the gun, gave him a dirty look, and tried to eject the magazine like the badasses do on TV. Unfortunately, I didn't really know what I was doing, so I suffered a moment of awkward confusion while I fiddled with the stupid thing. Finally, I just flicked on the safety.

"What the hell?" said the other thug—the one who wasn't screaming about his broken arm.

"Guess you should've listened," I said, anger growling deep in my throat. Something shifted inside me. Pain exploded in my head and the world went red. Blood rushed to my head in rhythm with the timpani thundering of my heart. My forehead felt like it was cracking open. Like something was growing from it.

The thug screamed at an impossibly high pitch for a man and fled. The girl passed out. The thug with the broken arm was too busy sobbing in white-faced agony to think about running.

I staggered. The pain receded. Faded to nothing. I hadn't had these awful headaches for a few days. Maybe my growing pains as a demon spawn weren't over yet. Whatever the case, aspirin wasn't going to cut it.

I picked up the girl and ran her toward the front of the shopping center where a group of teens were frantically shouting someone's name. Aware of just how bad it would look if a filthy guy walked up with an unconscious girl in his arms, I set her on a nearby bench and hid behind the corner. "Over here," I shouted. I heard their footsteps and exclamations as they saw their friend. Then I was off again.

What a rush.

I took stock of my location and angled for home. It felt amazing to have rescued someone. Despite my low energy levels and the hunger that groaned in my body, I felt energized.

Foolishly, it gave me hope.

I finally arrived at home and stripped off my ruined clothes which I trashed. After a shower I put on some jeans and a black T-shirt, figuring I might as well try to camouflage myself while I reconnoitered the location Shelton had given me in his email. If Stacey came through, I had to be prepared.

Someone knocked on the door. Hope surged. Maybe Dad had escaped. Maybe Shelton had decided to help me. Or it might be Nyte or Ash. I had several missed texts from the two of them.

I looked through the peephole and saw an empty stoop. I turned away. Another knock. I spun back and looked. No one was there. Somebody was playing games. That might be very bad. It could be more vampires or bounty-seeking sorcerers. I peered through the hole once more and a pair of violet eyes stared back at me.

I opened the door without thinking. Elyssa stood there, her eyes neutral rather than filled with hate or disgust. That was a step in the right direction.

"I know about your father," she said.

"How could you possibly know already?"

"My people have an extensive network. Word gets around fast when something goes down in the supernatural world. If I'd known who your father really is I would have also known you're an incubus."

"Oh yeah? Is that better or worse than vampreys and faders?"

"A monstrous soulless leech is still a leech."

"Well, congratulations. One monster down, one to go."

"Oh come off it, Justin. You can't get him back. The vampires who took him are rogues. They split from the Red Syndicate. Any lawful Syndicate member would have turned him in for the bounty, not kept him."

"Why do you say that?" I asked, resisting the incredible urge to kiss those soft lips, fangs or not.

"The Red Syndicate has an official image to uphold in the supernatural community, even when it comes to demon spawn."

"That's funny. I can't believe evil blood-suckers would be worried about their public image. "

"Vampire politics are tricky. They're very aware of which way the wind is blowing. Even if they consider your father a rogue, they'd treat him according to law."

"And what about my father's family? They'd stand by and do nothing?"

"They would, considering they disowned him."

I waved her in. Her eyes grew guarded, but she came in anyway. I noticed she had two short sai swords sheathed on her back. They looked a lot like the ones she'd constructed for Kings and Castles. She wore a black form-fitting shirt and pants that outlined her generous curvy physique. She had a knife on both thighs and a belt with matte-black grenade-looking spheres attached to it. She looked like a ninja goddess.

"Well, aren't you just armed to the teeth?"

"In my line of business it doesn't pay to walk around in my underwear."

Now that was a sight I'd like to see. "I have to try to save my dad. You know I can't just leave him."

"There are other avenues to freeing him. We could petition the Overworld Conclave for their intervention."

"You said 'we'. Does that mean your family will help me?"

"Oh, hell no," she said with a shake of her head. "They don't even know I'm here."

"Do they know about me?"

"They're aware of you now, thanks to this hubbub over your dad."

"And?"

"And what? They won't hunt you down if that's what you think. Mom was not exactly happy to find out she styled the hair of an incubus and didn't even know it." Her lips curved into a sad smile.

"That's kind of creepy, now that I think about it," I said. "Finding out your hair dresser is a vampire. Speaking of which, is your family part of the Red Syndicate?"

She grimaced. "No, we're just a family. We're nothing like those creatures."

"Wait a minute. They're creatures but you're not? Hypocrite much?"

She leaned against the back of the couch and narrowed her eyes at me. "Just because a vampire raped one of our ancestors doesn't mean we're anything like them. We do something positive with our abilities. Besides, we're dhampyrs, not vampires."

"Well if you're not a creature because your method of inception was out of your control, then I guess I must be okay too."

She grunted and averted her gaze. "We swore an oath to protect mortals from supernaturals. From leechers like spawn."

"Are you with the supernatural police squad? Should I call you Deputy Elyssa?"

"We're Templars," she growled.

"Like the knights?" I laughed. "You run around killing vampires and demons?"

"It's not like that. We don't go around killing anyone. We simply take care of the outlaws and rogues despite our dislike of…"

"Monsters like me?"

She met that with a protracted sigh. "It's just the way things are."

I paced into the kitchen and grabbed some water. My insides churned with the desire to kiss her, frustration because I couldn't, and the need to feed. "I'm not going to beg a bunch of lousy politicians to help me free my dad. If it works anything like human politics, it'll take forever. No telling what they're doing to him right this moment." I chugged down a glass of water to quench my burning thirst, but it didn't help. It wasn't that kind of thirst. "I already have someone to help me anyway."

"Who?" she said in a scoffing tone. "Your little cat woman? What good will she be?"

"At least she wants to help!" I yelled. I gritted my teeth and lowered my voice to a snarl. "Nobody else gives a damn because they think we're monsters who don't deserve to live in peace. We're blamed for being part of a family I never knew existed until a day ago." The anger fled from me as despair settled in. I groaned and sank into a chair.

She put an arm on my shoulder. I ached to touch her hand. To feel real solace in that touch. But it was an empty gesture.

"Justin, please listen to me. I don't want to see you hurt."

"Says the girl who almost cut my throat."

"No. Says the girl who thinks you're not all bad and don't deserve to die." She removed her hand and stepped in front of me.

"Look, I have to go," I said, the hunger and her presence becoming unbearable. "Can you at least tell me what I have to expect?" Aside from basic politics and location, Shelton's email told me nothing about how many vampires there could be or other lurking dangers for like-minded idiots who wanted to assault a vampire stronghold.

"You're really going to do this no matter what, aren't you?"

I nodded, trying to look grim and determined while inside I felt scared and alone.

She huffed out an angry groan. "Stubborn idiot. Fine." She pulled a printout from a pouch on her side and laid it flat on the table. It detailed the layout of a building with marked entrances and little red dots I assumed indicated enemies.

"You knew what I'd say, didn't you?"

She nodded. "Of course."

"And you prepared a battle plan for me? How sweet."

"It requires stealth and a lot of luck. Also, it'll work best if we do it during daylight hours. The rogues will be asleep aside from a few sentries."

"So—wait a minute. Did you just say 'we' again?"

"I'll help you."

My eyes misted. I turned away and wiped them so she wouldn't see me go soggy. "Thanks." I cleared my throat. It was difficult to speak over the knot that had formed there. "Why?"

"Even if things didn't work out due to you being a demon and all," she said, her lips turning up a smidge at the corners, "I don't want to see you killed."

"I don't want to see me killed either. I also don't want to see you hurt."

"I've got my big-girl panties on. I'll be fine."

I laughed despite the conflicted emotions coursing through me. "Why a daytime attack?"

"I don't know how much you know, but forget the myths. Vampires hate sunlight because it weakens them and they get a really nasty sunburn since their skin can't adapt to the ultraviolet rays. It also hurts their eyes."