Blood Leverage (Bloodstone Chronicles Book 1) (24 page)

Sincerely,

Lawrence Nickleby

Of the two of us, Amy recovered first. “Holy
shit
. Three minutes.”

Still panting, Bev pushed on. “That’s why he hates Eleanor. Not because she published
Mass Conversions
, but because his daughter went to the cities after she read it.” She sucked in another breath of air.

“Sara was never happy here, but Robert refused to see it. He created the story about her marriage to spare himself the humiliation of a daughter who’d given herself over to the vampires. He blamed your mother for being a bad influence.”

“Two minutes.”

Beverly ignored Amy. “Eleanor hadn’t known Sara’s plan, and worried about her for weeks. Then she decided to ask Nickleby, and he found her in Toronto. Nora did ask Nickleby to give Sara the job, and as far as I know, she still works there.”

“Does Robert know?” I was so stupefied I could barely speak.

“He does. Eleanor told him and he was furious—went into a rage and insisted she was lying. Rory, I promised Eleanor I’d never say a word about this to anyone, but you need to use this against Robert. I heard that snake threatening to lie about you and there’s
no
secret he wants kept more than this one.”

“One minute,” Amy warned. “Whatever you want to do, you need to do it
now
.”

Beverly nodded. “Go now. Run. I’ll catch up.”

We made it back right as Robert was approaching his podium and I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “You’re going to withdraw your petition.”

Robert smirked. “And why would I do that?”

My voice was inaudible to everyone but him. “Because if you don’t, I’ll use my rebuttal time to tell the entire square the truth about Sara. And because, unlike whatever you
think
you know about me, this letter serves as proof of my accusations. Sara now works for Immortal Media in Toronto. But if you withdraw your petition
right now
, and never bother my mother or me again, I promise I won’t say a word about this to anyone who doesn’t already know.”

Instead of turning red, the blood left Robert’s face and I took a step back. I’d never seen su
ch rage on anyone’s face, but I knew I’d won. Hopefully I’d feel happy about it later.

Robert staggered toward Blowhard and the other council members, and two minutes later it was over. (Poor Blowhard looked rather dazed as he gave the announcement.) I held my head high as the petition was withdrawn and gave the council a nod of acknowledgement.

Forcing a smile, I descended from the makeshift stage and slid my arms through Amy’s and Beverly’s. “A win by default is still a win, right?”

Amy frowned. “This bullshit isn’t worth one more moment of your time—of
any
of our time. It’s over, and Mom bought an incredible chunk of cow earlier in anticipation of your victory dinner. Let’s get the hell out of here and she’ll cook us a feast.”

My smile becoming less forced, I squeezed each of their arms in turn. “You know, I’ve been meaning to learn more about cooking myself. That sounds like the best offer I’ve heard in weeks.”

Probably because it was.

CHAPTER
TWENTY
-
SIX

I considered it a sign of maturity that I
stopped thinking about the hearing after a week or two, or maybe it was simply that I had less time to worry as the delivery schedule picked up pace. Still, even if it was only for a few minutes a day, I couldn’t stop wondering what the verdict would’ve been had I let the trial reach a conclusion—or how Robert had learned about my entrepreneurial activities with Nicky.

For the first week, I’d been on eggshells, terrified that Robert would retaliate somehow—either by going back on his word or by flat out trying to hurt me. His every look made it clear that he hated me now more than ever before, but I was careful to avoid him. With my newly developed timeliness and the lengthy days of summer, plus the help of my ‘borrowed’ truck, I was able to get home well before sunset even without using the tunnels. Not that I was holding classes regularly these days. With the increase in Nicky’s August deliveries, I wasn’t even home for days at a time.

As unpleasant as delivery days were, we had them down to a science by now. After each trip, the healthy vampire would carry the other inside and I’d clean him up. Then, whoever was incapacitated remained in the light deprivation room and I’d spend a few hours strategizing with whoever was healthy.

Though I never forgot Ian and Keanu were vampires, after a while it became less important. We were united in our goal of helping the Carrieros, and it thrilled me to have made progress there. Since my hearing, Ian and Keanu had found
five
more traces of Nicky’s scent in the Niagara Falls area, each accompanied by the scent of a different vampire, giving them five new scents to track.

None of the scents matched the one Eggplant had left in the house. Wherever Nicky was, he’d made a few friends. My
greatest fear was that they were all feeding on him, but judging from Ian’s attitude toward sharing, that wasn’t likely.

Whoever these new vampires were, Keanu and Ian had combed the Niagara Falls area for every trace of their scent. We now had a large map with pushpins—a different color for each vampire—marking the locations Keanu and Ian had identified. 

Though the scents had been found throughout the city and almost never repeated, a pattern had emerged, forming a radius around four city blocks. The area was the equivalent of a vampiric ‘gated community’, one of several adapted by the power plant to house their employees. Our current theory was that Nicky was being held somewhere in this area, but unlike the greater Niagara Falls area where strangers could blend in, this small community where everyone knew each other presented a challenge.

For one thing, the community’s only entrance required a fingerprint scan not unlike the ones I’d grown accustomed to. And while Ian and Keanu could mimic the appearance of a resident enough to pass muster, not even vampiric vision could see a fingerprint pattern well enough to perfect it without close examination.

A daytime search wasn’t much of an option either, what with the potential harm to humans. No humans lived in the area—that was forbidden—and the power company supplied wireless cameras to each house to monitor the area. Discreetly placed and frequently relocated, these cameras existed to detect human presence in the daytime—prevention by threat of retaliation.

A human caught in a vampire community earned an immediate death sentence, not only for himself, but for anyone deemed to have a relationship with the perpetrator. This included not only the obvious family members, but friends, neighbors and co-workers. Though I’d suggested Ian or Keanu ‘create’ a human that didn’t look like anyone, I’d been told a human would be found to punish anyway. So that plan was out.

Still, we muddled along and continued our tracking efforts, our ideas for breaching the community getting more improbable and outlandish as August dragged on. By the time we’d completed our grand finale of six deliveries in a row, our search had ground to a halt, which didn’t matter. We were incapable of doing anything anyway.

Granted, we’d always known the last deliveries would be the worst. Six consecutive days didn’t allow much recovery time and by the end we were all miserable.

The weather had cursed us with blazing sunshine on all six days and Ian and Keanu were both in the light deprivation room—sleeping it off so to speak. I felt almost as sick as they did. As Keanu’s illness worsened, he’d required more blood from Ian. Then, when Ian weakened, he’d required more blood from me.

If I wasn’t borderline anemic, I’d be shocked.

In addition to the sun and blood loss, the manual labor had also taken its toll, on me more than the vampires. As they’d grown weaker I’d taken on more of the heavy lifting—literally. Every muscle was exhausted. It even hurt to smile, not that I wanted to.

I doubted Ian or Keanu felt much urge to smile either. The last time I’d checked on them they’d resembled corpses. Keanu’s bronzed skin was pasty beige and Ian’s fair complexion verged on translucent. Given the amount of blood I’d lost, I looked ashy too. Even my hair felt faded.

When I’d left Ian in the light deprivation room earlier, Keanu was still wearing his rags from yesterday and I’d left Ian in his. They were also both on the floor—Keanu still where he’d collapsed yesterday. Neither had reached the sofa or bed and I lacked the strength to help. (At one point I’d fallen asleep on the floor beside them.)

On top of the physical discomfort, I was bored witless. Over the past week I’d watched all the ‘Star Wars’
films, read four new books, taken endless baths for my sore muscles and, earlier in the week, I’d spent five hours mastering Keanu’s famous Belgian waffle recipe. My nails and toes were perfect, I was too full of waffles to eat and the idea of moving made me want to throw up. (Or maybe that was my waffles.) I was even tired of wallowing in self-pity.

Maybe it was the thought of moving that did it, but somehow the gilded harp back in the guest rooms popped into my head and I brightened at a new potential time waster. Granted, I had no clue how to play but surely Vampoogle
could help.

It took me two painful minutes to limp to the guest rooms and only two seconds of being in them to realize my plan wouldn’t work. I hadn’t been here since Nicky’s abduction and returning made my flesh crawl.

Harp lessons would have to wait until the guys could carry the instrument elsewhere. Not that I couldn’t lift it, but knowing Ian it had belonged to royalty or something.

Despite my nerves, I decided to take a quick stab at the computer anyway. Even if I couldn’t play the harp, I could still read about it. It would only take a minute to print enough to keep me occupied till bedtime. Besides, I wasn’t as jittery in the bedroom because it held fewer memories of Nicky. (It also didn’t have a missing square of carpet where he’d nearly bled to death.) 

A few clicks later I had a lengthy string of documents queued for printing, everything from diagrams to the history of the harp—even instructions on reading music. After I’d gathered my still-warm papers, I paused before approaching the bedroom door. My last exit from this room hadn’t gone well.

Tiptoeing for no reason, I was almost to the living room exit when I felt a draft as the front door swung noiselessly open. Then my hands went limp at my sides and my tidy stack of papers fluttered to the floor with a soft rustling.

Eggplant had returned, in all her purple glory.

We both froze as we stared at each other. No surprise, she recovered first.

Her soft southern drawl was in direct contrast with her words. “Look at me, stay quiet and don’t move a muscle. I know it’s not much consolation, but this wasn’t part of the plan and I won’t enjoy it.” She kept her eyes locked on mine as she moved toward me and I decided she did look regretful.

Or maybe she looked pissed.

I scanned the room for a weapon, but nothing looked helpful. Then Eggplant’s frown changed to an expression of consternation that ended up costing the vampire her life.  

Her confusion reminded me that I shouldn’t have been able to break eye contact. It hadn’t been intentional, but it was significant. This creature had no control over me and I was free to do the logical thing under the circumstances.

I screamed at the top volume my lungs could produce.

Eggplant had turned back to the door before my mouth had fully opened, let alone closed. It was a testament to her agility that she almost made it to the doorway.

Almost.

Ian and Keanu didn’t stop to open the living room door, choosing instead to come straight through the walls on either side like wrecking balls in old demolition footage. I didn’t see Keanu leap into the air but I saw him land because he ended the maneuver in a defensive crouch in front of me, shoving me back against the intact wall between the living room and bedroom.

As for Ian and Eggplant, it was over before I could even scream,
“Stop, we need to question her!”
Within seconds there were pieces of Eggplant everywhere—which was much more disgusting in this context than an actual eggplant would have been.

It was a scene of bestial savagery.

Though I was
furious
that Ian had jumped the gun, my only clear thought was that there wasn’t enough cleanser in the world to clean up all this Eggplant. I choked out a tiny giggle and both Ian and Keanu whipped around to face me. They were right to be alarmed—this situation qualified for hysterics.

“Aurora, are you okay?” Ian took a tentative step closer and I took an involuntary step back, eyeing the floor as I answered. “You know, I don’t think I am.”

After weeks of drudgery and the accompanying camaraderie, I’d all but forgotten Keanu and Ian’s true nature. However, it was somewhat hard to ignore with the evidence oozing closer and closer to my feet.

“No, I’m not okay,” I repeated, swallowing hard. Then I proved myself right by vomiting. Mostly onto Keanu.

In my defense, I hadn’t
asked
Keanu to move closer and he was more than quick enough to avoid the trajectory, had he been so inclined. It wasn’t my fault he’d forgotten a vital aspect of human bodily functions.

The force of my sickness dropped me to my knees. As I pushed up from the floor, embarrassed, I was startled to see Keanu also on his knees from the sheer shock of being sprayed by human offal. I started to offer my hand in assistance, but stopped after seeing my hands.

Pretty nasty.

For that matter, none of us would win any hygiene contests in the immediate future. I may have been the best looking person in the room for once, though it was hard to get excited considering the state of my competition.

Dust from smashed plaster and concrete filled the room, and Keanu and I were covered with a chunky layer of whitish gray powder. His golden brown hair was covered and his eyebrows looked like scruffy white caterpillars. He was also splashed with blood, though nothing like Ian. 

Ian
dripped
with blood, in the literal sense of the word. He hadn’t escaped the dust and plaster either, and the combination was smearing into a gooey and very unpleasant shade of pink. (Having had Keanu in front of me, I’d escaped the blood with only some spatter on my clothes.)

In addition to shielding me from the blood, Keanu had stood between Ian and the vomit. Being the only triple threat, Keanu won my vote for the worst of us. When he finally
stood and spoke, his voice was plaintive. “Did you really throw up on me?”

Ian and I looked at one another for maybe two seconds before collapsing into laughter. After a minute, Keanu joined in and much inappropriate gaiety ensued. The two vampires were sprawled on the filthy floor, lying amongst the vomit and formerly vital bits of Eggplant, having the best laugh they’d probably had in centuries.

Every so often one of them would say something profound, like, “Look at you!” Then the other would respond with something equally brilliant, like, “No! Look at
you
!” and the cycle began anew.

Eventually, I picked my way through the rubble and nudged them with my foot. When that didn’t work I nudged them a bit harder, then a bit harder still. (Okay, fine. I kicked them, but a kick that doesn’t hurt is like a tree falling with no one to hear—it doesn’t count.) Unfortunately, my actions only added to the hilarity.

However, it was hardly a time for amusement with Eggplant seeping all over the living room. And we needed to discuss the ramifications of her being here. 

“You.” I grabbed Ian’s wrist and tugged, my hand sliding over his slimy fingers. I tried again. My second attempt was no better, but Ian realized my goal and gamboled to his feet like a drunken puppy, stumbling under the force of his laughter.

“And you.” I attempted to snag one of Keanu’s wrists, but they were beneath him and therefore out of reach. I scowled at Ian, who obliged in an instant.

“Allow me.” He hauled Keanu up by the scruff of his neck, like a kitten, and set him on his feet. Only he didn’t stay upright. Still caught in silent paroxysms of laughter, Keanu crashed back down like a felled redwood and Ian nimbly whisked me out of the way, twirling me in an unknown dance move that did nothing for my tender stomach.

In theory, there should be nothing more revolting than dancing with a vampire who’s disemboweled another vampire in front of you, especially one still dripping. Despite this, I found myself laughing again.