Blood Judgment (Judgment Series) (4 page)

The man gestured, indicating a green car parked at the curb. Vali climbed in and the man walked to the other side and slid into the driver’s seat.

Saranna dove from her hiding place. “No,” she shouted as she stumbled forward, clumsy in high heels.

But she was too late. The car pulled away, melting into downtown traffic.

Physical pain squeezed her chest.

It wasn’t uncommon for young vampires, males and females, to work the streets. But she hadn’t expected to see her own flesh and blood selling himself to any pig willing to pay for the use of his body.

If she didn’t intervene, odds were he wouldn’t see his nineteenth birthday. In terms of their life spans and slow maturation rates, he was not yet an adult.

On the streets alone, where countless young males perished, he wouldn’t survive long. Slight and immature, he was the perfect target for predatory humans and rogue vampires. He was young to be forced into such desperate measures and if someone killed him, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself.

She had enough to feel guilty about already. She’d been so engrossed with her own issues that Vali hadn’t been on her radar. Or anyone else’s.

How long had he been working the streets? Right after he lost his parents a year and a half ago, he’d gone to stay with friends. What the hell had happened?

It didn’t matter. He was where he was. Heart aching, she hurried down the street. She had her own crappy job and she was already late.

NOTHING WOULD make Ryan Banks happier than the complete extermination of the vampire population.

He despised the annual visits to the security centers his position as Vampire Control and Security Director mandated. He didn’t give a rat’s fuck how vampires were treated as long as the males were branded and sterilized and pregnant females were aborted of the young they carried.

Banks followed Charles Framer through the Seattle facility and tried to shut out the man’s inane babbling. He sneered at the back of Framer’s head.

Jackass
.

How Framer had conned his way into the Section Chief position was beyond comprehension. It wouldn’t have happened on his watch. In his five years as Director, not one weakling had secured a position of authority in any of the security centers.

He needed to get rid of Framer and hire someone with a spine. But firing a government employee wasn’t easy and Framer had managed to keep a clean record.

Framer was soft. Too many fools like him and the damn vampires would be moving back into the Restricted Zones. Not that the fuckers weren’t there anyway.

He strode up alongside Framer, towering over him by a good six inches. “What about the Resistance? How many have your officers brought in this month?”

“Two weeks ago, we brought in five and three more yesterday.”

“They were terminated?” He hoped Framer would give the wrong answer.

“Of course. They were all put down right away.”

“What about the Wolf Guards?”

“They’ve killed about two dozen vampires in the last week, but none were Resistance members.”

“Why am I paying those turncoats if they aren’t doing better than that?”

Framer didn’t answer.

Banks suspected Framer had a healthy fear of dealing with the Wolf Guards. Not that Banks blamed him. Wolf Guards had a laundry list of bad qualities. Big, aggressive vampires willing to betray their own kind for profit, they would intimidate anyone with a brain.

“Put more pressure on the vampire community. They’re getting out of control.”

“Yes, sir.” Framer led him into the holding area.

A dozen or more newly processed vampires were locked in cages where they had enough room to stand but barely move beyond that. They all sat, looking out at their captors.

The musky scent of the males reminded him of the woods and wild things. Combined with the stench of vomit, body waste, blood, burned flesh from the branding, and fear stink, the smell was overwhelming.

He stopped before a cage holding a juvenile. The young male had drawn his arm up, keeping it tucked against his body. He rocked slightly on the floor of his cage and stared straight ahead. Flies buzzed around him, attracted to the stink of blood and feces. The pests lit and crawled over the raw brand on the back of his hand, but he didn’t respond.

Bruises marked his stomach and side where his t-shirt had ridden up. His lower lip was split and swollen and the skin around his left eye was black and purple. Despite his injuries, he was pretty enough to be female.

He looked up at Banks with dazed, pain-filled eyes.

Banks’ stomach tightened. His right eye twitched. The little bastard’s striking resemblance to—

His right hand clenched into a fist. “Disgusting creature.”

He walked on.

A weeping female lay huddled in the corner of a cage. Blood soaked the crotch and inner seams of her pants.

“Was she pregnant?” Banks asked.

“About eight months along. The med tech was in, so we didn’t have to keep her overnight.”

“Doesn’t matter how long you hold them. I don’t even care if you put them down instead of bothering with an abortion. Some centers have opted for lethal injection. Easier and cheaper.”

“I know, but I try to be as fair as possible. They can’t help that they exist.”

“You sound like those bleeding-hearts in the Red Rose Society. Vampires are nothing more than dangerous animals.”

Framer squirmed. “I don’t want to kill females. They aren’t dangerous.”

Banks looked down his nose at the shorter man. “Makes me wonder if I can count on you once we move forward.”

“I follow orders, Mr. Banks. I do my job.”

Banks arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure you have the stomach for it.”

Framer flushed. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Prove it.” Banks pointed at the young male. “Have him put down. Now. Right here.”

Framer’s eyes widened. “But … but why? He can’t be more than sixteen.”

The young vampire shrank back against the bars.

Banks liked his fear. “Because I said to, that’s why.”

Framer hesitated.

Banks gave him a look meant to shrivel his nuts.

Framer pulled out his phone and dialed. “Gibson, I want a juvenile put down. Bring two men and the drugs to the holding area.”

Several vampires scrambled to their feet with more than one expletive clearly aimed at Banks.

The young vampire pressed tighter against the back of the cage, his eyes reflecting stark terror.

Within moments, three huge officers came into the holding room. One had a pole control device. Another carried the yellow pack containing the cocktail of euthanasia drugs.

The juvenile whimpered and lurched to his feet. “Please.” He choked on the word. “Please don’t.”

The officer with the pole device shoved it between the bars and jabbed the prongs into the trapped juvenile’s side. The snap of an electric charge connecting with flesh elicited a yelp of pain and knocked him down hard.

Alert but unable to move, he lay helpless as an officer opened the cage, grasped his ankle, and yanked him out onto the concrete floor.

His eyes darted from one man to another, seeking an ally. “Please don’t. Please. I haven’t done anything.”

“Shut the fuck up, vermin,” the officer with the pole device said.

“But I didn’t do anything. Don’t do—”

The officer kicked the young vampire in his side but it didn’t silence him.

“I don’t want to die. Please. Don’t.” His words were shaky, terrified.

“Shut your pie-hole or I’ll kick your teeth down your stinkin’ throat.”

An adult male hissed, long and low.

Banks glanced over at the adult. “Watch it, or you can get a taste of it for yourself.”

Tears ran from the juvenile’s eyes while another officer prepared the injection, drawing drugs from three vials. When the syringe was loaded, a third officer grabbed the teen’s arm and twisted it into position so the inside of his elbow was exposed.

“No! Please don’t. Please.” His voice had gone high and the final plea dragged out. A large wet patch spread over his crotch and the scent of urine rose on the stale air. “Please don’t kill me!”

“Look,” the officer who’d shocked him said. “Little asshole done pissed himself.”

“He fucking stinks,” the officer with the syringe said.

“Get on with it,” Framer snapped.

“No,” the juvenile cried.

The officer jammed the needle into a vein and pushed the plunger home, dumping the overdose of poison into the vampire’s bloodstream.

“Damn you all to Hell,” one of the adults shouted.

The juvenile wailed and threw up on himself. He choked, trying to breathe. Then his body convulsed, thrashing on the concrete for long minutes before he finally stilled.

Banks thoroughly enjoyed watching the juvenile struggle, and fail, to live.

GOING BEHIND the bar to grab her purse, Saranna rubbed her eyes and yawned. Her feet hurt from waiting tables all night, but she couldn’t go home yet.

After clocking out, she exited the fog-filled metal club and headed back to where she’d seen Vali six hours earlier.

Several cars slowed as they cruised past her. She kept her eyes off the drivers, hurrying as fast as her high heels allowed.

When she reached the block where she’d last seen her cousin, several women in skimpy clothes paraded back and forth, but he wasn’t there.

Surely he wasn’t with the man who’d picked him up earlier? Maybe he’d changed location. Oh God, maybe someone else had picked him up. She shuddered and walked on down the street.

A young female stood in the shadows, an infant clutched to her breast. A wave of longing swept over Saranna and, for a moment, it drowned everything else in a pool of resentment and heart-clenching pain.

She scurried away from the female and her child. Her life was what it was and wanting things like a family and fairytale happiness had to take a backseat to the reality of day-to-day survival. Besides, a mate would be too demanding and domineering. She didn’t need that. She was better off on her own.

Ahead of her, three young women clustered in front of a closed bookstore. Their clothes, or lack of them, indicated their trade. Maybe they could help her.

She approached the prostitutes and fished her wallet from her purse. “Have any of you seen him?” She held out her only photo of Vali. “He’s working the streets.”

They remained silent. One inspected her fingernail.

“Please, he’s my cousin!” Saranna’s voice broke.

A scrawny blond in pink spandex and black fishnet took the photo.

“Tia!” one of the girls hissed.

“She ain’t no cop.”

After a moment, she handed the photo back. “He’s a vampire.”

Saranna nodded. Did that make a difference to this woman?

“Saw him ‘bout an hour ago. Workin’ Ninth.”

“You’re sure it was him?”

“Yeah. I know him a little.”

“Thanks.” Saranna tucked the photo back in her purse and headed toward Ninth Avenue.

How could they do it? She hated her job, but serving drinks to a bunch of rude, sweaty pigs and fending off their pawing hands was better than letting them ride her. She’d rather starve than sell her body.

Reaching Ninth, she passed the only government-funded medical facility in the city that was strictly for vampires. She shuddered. The Hope Center provided free abortions to poor, desperate females. The bastards wouldn’t help a homeless female, but they would kill her unborn baby.

She traveled three blocks before spotting Vali. Like his female counterparts, he strolled along the curb, then walked back a short distance, making it obvious he was for sale.

A Cadillac pulled over.

She broke into a run, gunning for her cousin despite the danger of her high heels. “Vali, wait!”

Horrified dread flashed over his face. She faltered, but he walked away from the car and waited for her.

When she reached him, she didn’t know what to say. Rack thin, he looked malnourished and unhealthy. His shaggy blond hair hung in his eyes and all traces of the innocence that had lit them was gone. His silver-blue irises had become flat and lifeless. Was he high?

“Saranna?”

She grabbed him in a fierce hug. He slipped his arms around her, but tension in his body created an almost physical barrier. The scent of semen penetrated her senses. Half sick to her stomach, she released him and stepped back. “Why didn’t you come to me? Or any of us?”

He avoided her eyes. “I didn’t wanna be a burden. I can take care of myself.”

The man inside the Cadillac cleared his throat. Saranna’s skin crawled. His gaze raked over her, stripping her.

“I haven’t seen you before. Want to join us?” He leered at her.

“What?”

“Come with us.” He nodded at Vali. “We’ll have a threesome.”

Vali cut in. “She’s not a workin’ girl. Leave her alone.”

Undeterred, the man said, “Want to give it a try? I’ll pay you good.”

She gritted her teeth, but managed not to snarl at the sleazebag. “No thanks.”

“I’ll make it worth your time. You and him, two hundred dollars.”

“No.” Her hands clenched until the nails cut into her palms.

“She isn’t interested.” Vali sounded agitated.

The man leaned out the window. “Come on, honey. I know
he’s
willing. Aren’t you, my pretty little bitch-boy? He loves taking it up the ass. Don’t you, Vali?”

Vali made a choking sound and looked as if he wanted to die.

“I’ll make it three hundred.”

“No.” She grabbed Vali’s arm.

“Fine, you stupid bitch. Get in, Vali.”

“He’s coming with me.” Saranna held tighter to Vali.

“That so?”

Vali nodded and looked at his shoes.

Without another word, the man put his car in gear and peeled away from the curb.

Saranna sagged against Vali as if the man had sucked the life out of her. He slid his arm around her, steadying her.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he said.

“I had to.”

His gaze darted away.

She touched his arm. “Vali?”

He finally met her eyes.

“Are you using drugs?”

“Just Ritalin.” He shrugged. “Helps me cope. Makes me feel good for a little while.”