Tainted Blood Page 4

  Sebastian leans over Henry’s shoulder. Although Henry seems to be more than comfortable working for vampires, he can’t hide the tension in his neck and shoulders when Sebastian invades his personal space. Then again, Sebastian is dangerously close to Henry’s neck.

  Henry points to the screen, and Sebastian nods knowingly. They seem to forget about me as they focus on Henry’s monitor. I could run out of here, and they might not even notice. That might be a good idea, if I had an idea where they’re keeping Kara.

  “What am I looking at?” Sebastian asks softly.

  I might not have supernatural hearing, but it’s always been better than average, and I strain to make out every word they say. I hold my breath, certain the slightest noise might make me miss important details they may not be willing to share—or remind them I’m here and in earshot.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Henry says.

  “Human?”

  “Yes. And no. She’s something more.”

  More than human? What does that mean? For me, it only leaves me with questions I hope they can answer, because if not, the only other people who could gave me away, and I don’t know their names, much less where they live. Or if they’re alive at all. There is so much to my childhood story I know nothing about, and it drives me crazy to think I might never know the answers.

  “She’s technically human. At least, her DNA is, but her blood…” He looks up at me, and so does Sebastian. I turn so I’m no longer facing them.

  I lean back, close my eyes, and pretend to focus on the glass window in front of me.

  “The pH is completely off. Acidic. She shouldn’t be alive with a pH like that, and yet she appears completely normal.”

  “Could that be why Cassandra got sick from her blood?”

  “Probably.”

  “So that’s it? She’s acidic?”

  “Yes. I tested both women against the sample you gave me and…” His voice dips even lower.

  Kara? Why would they test Kara? But I guess the answer immediately. He knows about my parents, but he might not realize they aren’t my blood, and neither is my sister.

  I strain harder, but now, I can’t hear a damn word. Are they signing in there? I hear him tapping on the keyboard, clicking on his mouse, but there are no words. Damn it, something tells me whatever they’re talking about is beyond important. And it involves me.

  Impatiently, I wait for them to return. It feels like forever. When I can’t stand the silence any more, I call out to them. “Hello? Remember me in here?”

  Sebastian’s heavy footsteps grow louder until he appears in front of me. He looks at me in a way he hasn’t before, like he’s seeing me for the first time. His eyes wash over my face and hair. Then he meets my eyes. He frowns, and his shoulders slump.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.

  “No reason.”

  “You’re not convincing. Want to try saying that again and mean it?”

  “Come on. Get up. Let’s go.”

  I don’t move. If he thinks he’s going to take my blood and learn something about me I don’t know and keep it to himself, he’s got another thing coming. I might be his prisoner, but he needs me. I’m not about to let him forget it. It’s the only bargaining power I have against a supernatural creature.

  “What did he mean, I’m more than human?”

  He frowns at me. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

  “I’ve always had amazing hearing.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “You said you needed me, and you wanted to do things the easy way. Tell me what you just learned about me, and I promise, going forward, everything will be easy. I won’t fight you, won’t give you a hard time—as much as that’s possible. Whatever you need. But please…tell me what you know.”

  He studies me another beat and shakes his head, frowning. “I can’t trust you. Not yet.”

  “Then when?”

  “When you trust me back.”

  “Trust you back?” I say with a scoff. In what world is it possible for a girl to truly trust her kidnapper? And a vampire at that...

  4

  Sebastian takes me back to the bedroom where I woke and locks me in. I curse at him through the door, but he ignores me. I sit on the bed, unsure of what I’m supposed to do while I wait for him to come back. Time passes slowly, and when I hear heels approaching, I guess I’ve been left alone for maybe an hour.

  The door slowly opens, and a woman peeks inside. When she sees me sitting calmly, she smiles and proceeds to open the door wide. Though she appears young, her face is weathered, like a woman who’s seen too much. She wears a black dress and an apron across her middle. She tucks the key to my room into her pocket. “Dinner will be served shortly. The masters would like you to eat with them.”

  I completely pass over her referring to them as her masters. That’s a different conversation entirely. They want me to eat with them? Smile and act polite and forget they broke into my home, kidnapped my sister and me, and won’t let me see her? No matter how curious I am about them and what they know about me, they can’t make that right.

  “I’m not sure we follow the same diet.”

  The maid doesn’t care. “If you’ll follow me, I can take you to the dining room.”

  She walks away, and when I don’t follow, she peeks her head back into the bedroom. “I’m supposed to tell you that he’ll cut off one your sister’s fingers if you decline. Sorry about that.” She makes an apologetic face as her shoulders hunch.

  How can a woman work for vampires who threaten to cut off fingers? For obvious reasons, I give in to their request. But this woman? Why does she follow them? Did they threaten someone she loves too? They must have. I can’t imagine any other reason why someone would stay here unless mind control is real, and they’ve hijacked her brain.

  I keep a slow pace as I take in the rest of my surroundings. She allows it, keeping by my side. We descend down a single flight of stairs. My hand slides over the smooth, dark-stained bannister. When we reach the high-ceilinged foyer, I spin around and spy the gothic metal chandelier with proper candles in it that, thankfully, don’t drip in my eyes. How the hell do they light those? My only solution is impossible. Flying. In truth, the longer I’m here, the more I question my knowledge. Can vampires fly? The one in the alley sure as hell seemed as if he could. Though if I’m being honest, it was more of a healthy jump than a flight path. The only knowledge I have about vampires is from books, and I have no idea whether any of it is fact or fiction. If vampires are real, mustn’t all the stuff about them be true too?

  We turn down a hallway, and after about ten feet or so, she pulls open sliding wood doors to reveal a dining room with a table longer than my driveway. I let out a whistle. How do people expect to eat and talk to one another when they have to shout across a room?

  Alexander sits at the head with Sebastian to his right. While Alexander is dressed formally in a suit and bow tie, Sebastian is in the same jeans and black T-shirt he wore the last time I saw him. They both stand as I approach.

  “I’m a prisoner, not a guest,” I say. “Don’t stand on my account.”

  Alexander holds the back of the high-backed chair while I sit, and I keep my eyes on him as he pushes me in. I don’t have eyes in the back of my head and having a vampire at my back makes me more than a little nervous.

  The vampires sit, and a lady, also in black and white, comes through a swinging door with a tray of bowls. She sets one in front of each of us. It’s red-orange with some green herbs floating on top.

  I can’t believe I’m sitting here about to be served a formal meal with vampires while my sister is God knows where. The guilt hits me square in the chest. “Will my sister be joining us?”

  Sebastian fills his spoon with the liquid and quietly slurps it. Alexander waits for me, pointing with his head to the bowl in front of me.

  “This is ridiculous. I’m supposed to sit here and eat with the two of you whi
le you do God knows what to my sister? Where is she?” I demand.

  Alexander rolls his eyes and plucks his phone from the inside of his coat pocket. After tapping, he holds up a live video, muted, of my sister as she kicks the living shit out of a door in a cell. “As you can see, she’s in good health.”

  Sebastian takes another sip of his soup.

  “Why can’t she eat with us? Why treat us so differently?”

  “Honestly, of the two of you, you’re more civilized. We need your help, and quite frankly, she isn’t as motivated to save you as you are her.”

  “I don’t believe you.” But I hear the doubt in my own voice, and it makes my stomach churn. I feel as if they’re trying to divide us, and I’m falling for it.

  “Your sister thinks we’re abominations. She’d rather die than do anything to help us. Not that it matters. You’re the one we need,” Alexander says with a sneer.

  “Because I’m more than human?”

  He ignores my question as he muses to himself. “Surprisingly, she’s as human as the maid.”

  In the interest of getting them to talk, I decide to disclose some little details. What better way to gain their trust? Sebastian wants me to trust them back? Well, here’s me offering them a kernel. “It’s not surprising at all. I’m adopted.”

  Alexander and Sebastian stop eating, their spoons in mid-air.

  “Come again?” Sebastian says.

  “You must have done some research on me to know about my parents, but clearly, you didn’t dig deep enough. They aren’t my blood. I don’t know who my mother is.”

  Alexander and Sebastian exchange a glance.

  “I don’t like this,” Alexander says.

  Sebastian holds up a hand to silence him. “That makes no sense. I went through every record of yours I could find. The names of your parents on your birth certificate match the names of the man and woman who died over a year ago in a car accident.”

  “That’s impossible. I remember the day they picked me up from the orphanage. You can ask my sister. She’s almost five years older than me. She would have been ten—or just about. I was adopted. I don’t know where you got that certificate, but it’s fake.”

  In my mind, I try to remember seeing this document. I have a license, a social insurance card, a passport even…but have I ever seen my birth certificate? I must have, and yet, I can’t recall seeing it once. Why is it that the longer I remain with these vampires, the more I question everything I’ve ever known?

  “I want to see it.”

  “That can be arranged,” Sebastian says.

  I don’t expect him to agree so easily. It stuns me. Without words, I merely nod in thanks.

  We sit in silence while they finish their soup. As Alexander quietly sips the very last of the liquid, he asks, “Not hungry?”

  I merely shrug.

  “It’s not poisoned.”

  “It’s not poison I’m worried about.” I pick up my spoon and dip it in the liquid. As I hold it at chest level, I turn the spoon to let it slowly pour back into the bowl, examining the consistency. I am hungry. But for all I know, there could be blood in this—or body parts—all pureed into some smooth sauce meant to look positively normal.

  “What is this?”

  “Bisque.”

  “Blood bisque?”

  Sebastian and Alexander exchange a look and chuckle softly.

  “You eat real food?”

  “Tell me, Emily, what do you know about vampires?” Alexander asks. “I’m curious what rumors humans believe nowadays. There’ve been so many over the years. They vary slightly, but they’re always essentially the same.”

  “I don’t know…I guess I only have books and movies to go by. If I’m using those as a guide, I’d have to say I didn’t expect you to eat human food. Just blood.”

  Sebastian holds my eyes. “While we don’t have a pulse, our bodies still process food, still eliminate it. Food is a pleasure we don’t deny ourselves.”

  I’ll save that thought for later because it creeps me out to think about a vampire on the toilet. It’s entirely too normal to be true.

  “What else?” Alexander pushes away his soup.

  “The can’t go out in the sunlight. They burst into flames.”

  “Fiction,” Sebastian says. “It weakens us, and we prefer to sleep during the day, but it doesn’t harm us. We don’t burst into flames, as much as I’m sure you wish we would.”

  “Silver?” I ask.

  Alexander holds up his spoon. I pick up mine. It could very well be real silver. So I guess that’s fiction, too.

  “Can you fly?”

  “Not anymore.” Alexander’s face drops as he looks off to the side. A memory? Sadness? He strikes me as a little crazy so who knows what’s on his mind.

  “What do you mean? Anymore?”

  He shakes off his musings. “Next.”

  I file that one away for later. They could fly. Past tense.

  “Do we need to continue when there are more important things to discuss? You wanted to test my blood, and you have. So now that you know what I am—and I’d love for you to fill me in because I’m still clueless—what’s next? How do I get out of here and save my sister?”

  “Ready to leave so soon? And here I thought you were warming to us,” Alexander says.

  “I think it’s a given I don’t like you. Besides kidnapping my sister and me, you threatened to cut off my sister’s fingers if I didn’t come to dinner, so…”

  Sebastian dead-eyes his brother, who merely shrugs.

  “Do you want to do the honors, brother?” Sebastian’s tone is clipped.

  Alexander clears his throat and adjusts in his chair. “I suppose it won’t hurt to tell you. If you know already, it’s hardly news. If you don’t, well, you likely won’t know what to do about it anyway.” He leans in, his fangs elongating enough for me to notice. Instinctually, I lean away and swallow the lump building in my throat. “You’re a blood hunter, a reaper, the first one we’ve seen in centuries. By all accounts, your bloodline was exterminated. I’m not sure how you and your family managed to stay hidden all these years. Clearly, you’ve had help.”

  I try to process what he says, but it’s impossible because it doesn’t make sense. I know what a reaper is in the traditional sense, and they might as well be a myth because no one has ever seen one. I’m also focused on his final statement: By all accounts, your bloodline was exterminated. Does this have something to do with why I was put up for adoption?

  “A reaper? Like black cloaks and a scythe?”

  Another server pushes through the swinging door. The door creaks loudly, causing me to jump in my seat and drop my spoon. The utensil falls to the table and lightly bounces as a clanking noise echoes through the large space. I take a breath to calm myself and my racing heart slows to its normal rhythm.

  Another server follows close behind the first one and I can’t help but notice their long blond locks, flawless skin and doe eyes. Clearly, vampires appreciate the superficial.

  Alexander and Sebastian lean away from their bowls as one removes our dirty dishes and another one sets down plates of steak so raw it’s blue, potatoes, and mixed vegetables. It’s arranged thoughtfully with the meat cut in slices and fanned out around the middle on top of the potatoes with vegetables around the edges. I notice mine was cooked a hair longer but still bleeds.

  The ladies exit, and I wait impatiently for a response to my question as Sebastian and Alexander dig into their meat. Sebastian chews quietly while Alexander relishes his with closed eyes as if it’s the most delicious meal he’s ever eaten. My face scrunches up in horror as I wonder if he eats human meat.

  “Where were we?” He presses a finger to his temple. “Right. Reapers.” His tone changes when he says that word, as though it puts a foul taste in his mouth. “They’re not what you think. They don’t exist the way they’re portrayed in movies. For one, they were created by witches. And two, they take undead souls, not human ones.
Any soul taken by a reaper goes straight to hell.”

  My mouth hangs open. I have a million questions, and they all kind of blend together, so I can’t find the words to voice a single one. Sebastian starts to speak, but Alexander cuts him off by holding up a dismissive hand. It’s very clear who runs the show in their relationship.

  “So someone like me…is meant to kill someone like you?” I chew on that a moment.

  Alexander nods slowly.

  Try as I might, there is no way I could get the better of either of them—not even on my best day.

  “There are two kinds of vampires, elders and second generation. Second generation vampires are made.”

  “Where do elders come from?”

  “There’s a lot of speculation about that, but only an elder can say for sure, and they don’t volunteer that information. No smart vampire would dare ask.” Sebastian takes a break from cutting his steak.

  “Now, anyone with a stake could potentially kill a made vampire. It’s unlikely because humans are truly a weaker species, but it can happen. But elders?” He shakes his head, his expression serious. “Only a hunter can kill an elder.”

  “And what are you guys?”

  When the silence becomes deafening, Sebastian finally says, “Alexander and I were both two of the very first made vampires. Alexander’s master is an elder.”

  “Can anyone make one?”

  “Yes,” Sebastian says.

  “You said hunters were made by witches. Does that mean I was, too?” I have visions of a witch hatching me from an egg. This all sounds so ridiculous, and yet it feels true. Having it told to me by vampires helps with believability.

  “A coven of witches got quite upset with us after the Black Plague in the thirteen hundreds, which—” Alexander holds up a hand and talks out the side of his mouth—“wasn’t really an illness.” Wink, wink. “They cast a spell to make each of them…” He looks to Sebastian for help, but I doubt he needs it. “How many were there?”