Blood Magic (Dragon Born Alexandria Book 2) (10 page)

“Indeed,” he said. “Keep me informed, Alexandria. Particularly regarding the assassin. You can only keep the world safe if you first keep yourself safe.”

“Logan said the same thing.”

“He’s a smart man. It was one of my better ideas to hire him.”

“Actually, it was his idea.”

“Oh. Indeed it was.”

She managed to hold in the chuckles. “Bye, Gaelyn.”

Setting her phone down on the table, Alex took another step toward the training room—then stopped. She lingered just outside, not going in. Temptation lay that way. If she saw Logan do just one more pushup… Well, she couldn’t be held responsible for the consequences. Logan had just been wounded. He didn’t need her advances. He needed to heal. He certainly wasn’t in the state to do anything…active.

Logan hopped down from the bar, his bare feet landing in a soft whisper. “You might as well come in, Alex. I can hear you breathing by the door.”

With that said, he turned to assault the punching bag. He was hitting the bag so hard, she was surprised he hadn’t punched right through it. Maybe he was in an active state after all. Alex leaned against the wall, going for a relaxed stance. It was a good thing his superpowers didn’t include reading minds. Hers was betraying her right now.

He stopped and turned toward her, his nostrils flaring up. His eyes burned into hers like emerald fire. He spoke, deep and low, his breath buzzing on his lips. “Now you’re just asking for it, love.”

Which meant he’d picked up on the scent of her arousal, even through the blood and mud. Knowing that turned her thoughts even dirtier. Alex blew him a kiss. She sure as hell wasn’t the sort of girl who had the decency to blush. But there was no time for fun. There was work to do. Unfortunately.

“Focus,” she said to herself as much as to him.

“I am focused.” His eyes slid up her body, devouring her every curve. God, the man made wicked look so good.

“The Blood Orb.” She cleared her throat when the words came out in a rasp. “We need to focus on getting it back. Gaelyn will ask the Vampire Covenant to move on the pirates. We need to try the next vampire hotspot on the map.”

Logan grabbed a towel, dabbing down his face and neck.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” she told him.

“Doing what?” He tossed the towel aside and strode toward her.

“Being distracting.”

He stopped right in front of her, so close that his breath melted against her forehead. “Maybe you want to be distracted.” He reached his hand toward her.

She caught it. “Well, yeah. Of course I do.” She stepped back. “But we have to deal with the Blood Orb.”

“Actually, I’m going after the assassin who tried to kill you.”
 

“How?”

“I’m going to use my connections to find out who put a contract out on your life.” His voice burned like dry ice. “And then I’m going to find that person.”

“And kill him?”

A dark smile slid across his lips. “Oh no, death is too easy. I will take it slow, drawing out his torment. I will make him loathe the day he was born. Before I’m done, he will beg me to kill him, but I won’t. Not just yet. Only when his will to live has completely shattered—when he yearns to kiss the sweet escape of oblivion—will I finally grant him death.”

Alex gaped at him, speechless. She’d known he was dark—assassins weren’t the cheeriest fellows—but not
that
dark.

“That degenerate swine tried to take you from me.” He tugged her close, his arms folding around her in a protective embrace as he kissed the top of her head. “I will make him feel the torment I would have felt had you died tonight.”

“Logan.” Her heart burned in her chest. “That’s sweet.” She brushed the back of her hand across her eyes, drying the moisture. “But we don’t have time to chase down assassins and torture them. We need to get the Blood Orb back before the Convictionites strike again.”

“You won’t be getting the Blood Orb back if you’re dead. Even Gaelyn recognizes that.”

“You were eavesdropping?”

“Not on purpose. I hear things. I can’t just turn it off.”

“You could try.”

He kissed her forehead. “Maybe later. Right now, I have other business to attend to.”

“You’re not inviting me along, are you?”

“Sorry, darling. The people I’m going to see aren’t particularly fond of the Black Plague. They’d probably try to kill you.”

“And what makes you think they won’t try to kill you?”

He laughed. “They probably will.”

“I don’t like this,” she told him, frowning. “You need backup.”

He tapped the knife strapped to his thigh.

“At least put on some clothes.” She snatched up the black shirt on the floor and tossed it at him.

After he slipped it on, he stepped into a pair of black boots. They looked identical to the pair that was still soggy from tramping through the river. He strapped on more weapons, then gave her a final parting kiss and left, as silent as a shadow.

Alex looked at the map. Paddington Station. That’s where she’d felt another large vampire presence. It wasn’t even that far away. She could just take a quick late night jog in that general direction. Just for reconnaissance purposes, naturally. Plus, it would be good exercise, certainly not the least bit foolish. Of course she’d have to bring her sword along. And some knives. Just in case. Being prepared for every contingency was smart, not reckless.

Her dragon chuckled.

How long have you been awake?
Alex asked her.

Long enough to get a few giggles out of listening to you justify your recklessness to yourself.

It’s not recklessness.

Of course not.
Her dragon snorted.
It’s being smart. I’m not sure Logan and Marek would agreed.

No, they’d call me reckless for going there alone,
said Alex.
But you know what? To hell with it. I don’t need their permission. I’m going.
She took a step toward the stairs, then stopped.
Uh, after a shower, that is.

Good thinking. The vampires will smell you coming a mile away.

Have I ever told you how much I appreciate your helpful commentary?

No.

Did you ever consider why?

Hmm.

As her dragon pondered that one over, Alex headed into the bathroom. Her snarky companion was right about one thing. If she didn’t shower, the vampires would smell her coming. And that would just be reckless.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Magic Trails

ALEX STOOD BESIDE the bagel kiosk in Paddington Station, pretending to be nothing more than another commuter enjoying her late night snack. Thanks to the ubiquity of nocturnal supernaturals—and supernatural hunters—most train stations nowadays were open all night.

Alex hadn’t eaten since her chocolate dinner, which by now felt like eons ago, so standing here while munching on a bagel wasn’t an altogether unpleasant way to conduct magical surveillance. It even almost took the bite off the slow, nauseating drip of vampire magic that permeated the air, singeing it with the unmistakable aftertaste of blood.

Humans couldn’t sense magic—and neither could most supernaturals—which meant anyone crazy enough to be out at this hour was spared the bloody stink bomb crashing against Alex’s senses. The multidirectional bombardment was making it hard to track down exactly where it was coming from.

What do you want to bet there’s a nest of vampires underground?
her dragon said.

Alex glanced at the ‘Underground’ sign above the stairs.
I’m not taking that bet.

Chicken.

Dragon.

Her dragon cackled in her mind. She was right. The vampires were most likely down there. In addition to sucking blood, having sex, and engaging in senseless brawls of dominance, vampires’ hobbies included cozying up underground. Preferably to do those three other things. And London had an impressive array of underground paradises. It was no wonder the Convictionites kept coming here to test the Blood Orb. The city was crawling with delinquent vampires.

Alex headed toward the stairs, finishing the last of her bagel as she walked. If she didn’t track down the vampires soon, she’d try to find a muffin next. The coffee shop upstairs looked promising. Anything called ‘Magic Beans’ had to offer something that would give her a nice magical jolt. After showering and changing into something that didn’t reek of dirty water, she’d chugged down one of the antioxidant magic boost drinks in Marek’s refrigerator. Sadly, the boost hadn’t been as big as she’d hoped. Her magic was being temperamental at the moment. It was a good thing she’d brought along a full complement of knives—and a really big sword.

She stopped at the cusp of the stairs. They were down there. She could feel them clearly now, a good fifty vampires. Their magic crackled like a lightning storm. Shapeshifting vampires this time. Oh goody, variety. And from the whiffs of bloodlust she was getting off of them, they were famished. Strong, magical, and hungry. She probably shouldn’t go down there by herself.

You’re not by yourself. You have me,
her dragon said.

A dragon I talk to inside my head. You don’t find that the least bit odd?

No. Who else would I talk to? No one can hear me but you.

Have you tried talking to Sera’s dragon? You two probably have a lot in common.

In common? With that prissy pants dragon?
She snorted.

Dragons have pants?

That one does. With frilly lace and bows.

So you have talked to her?
Alex asked.

Not exactly talked, at least not like I do with you. We can sense each other. Like how I can sense that she thinks I’m impulsive.

You are.

Well, of course I am. That’s what makes me fun. She could benefit from my example. Hmm, perhaps I should try to talk to her. Ever since you and I connected well enough to communicate, I’ve been able to sense her, even from here. Maybe if you were standing next to Sera, I could even talk to her dragon.

I’ve been wondering about that,
said Alex.
How is it we connected? I never could talk to you before.

It happened when you embraced your magic.

Ah. That made sense.
So, are you ready to find these vampires?

Her dragon projected a feral grin.
Let’s take them down.

We’ll just look first. It’s possible they’re not up to no good.

Alex, they’re hiding under one of London’s busiest railway stations, a constantly rotating band of all-you-can-eat human treats to sink their fangs into. Of course they’re up to no good.
 

You’re probably right.

Say it again.

Alex chuckled. She was about to go down the stairs when her phone rang. She fished it out of her jacket. Naomi, probably wondering where she was.

“Hey.”

“Alex.” Naomi’s voice was hardly above a whisper. In the background, something heavy and metallic hit the ground with a resounding bang.

“What’s wrong?”

“Marek and I could use some help.” The staccato pop of gunfire echoed through the phone. “We’re a bit trapped here.”

Alex pivoted around and hurried toward the station exit. “Where are you?”

“Near Hyde Park.” Magic roared over her voice. It sounded like a wave of fire. “At a place called Sugar. Basement.”

“Hold on,” Alex told her. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Then Alex tucked her phone away and took off running toward the park.

* * *

Hyde Park wasn’t so far away. Alex made it there in five minutes. It took another two to find Sugar. It would have taken longer if the place hadn’t been pulsing with enough magic to give her a mega buzz. She just followed the trail of supernatural auras to Sugar’s front door. The club’s logo was a sugar cube inside of a martini glass, animated with one of those cheesy neon light signs. It was almost too cute for a club owned by an international hate organization.

She cut ahead in the line, squeezing between the cluster of six women the bouncer had waved inside. He didn’t even see her. As the already-tipsy ladies beelined for the bar, Alex pushed her way through the clog of people standing in line for the restrooms. Past the ladies’ room, in a dark corner under the stairs, a man who looked like he’d stepped off the set of a professional wrestling match stood with his arms folded across his chest. A gun hung at each hip.

I don’t have time for this nonsense.

Sera would have tried something clever to get through the door. And Logan would have too. But Sera was in San Francisco, and Logan was actually acting pretty reckless himself right now. So Alex did it her way. She walked up to the door and head-butted the guy. His eyes rolled back, and he crumpled to the floor. No alarms went off, and no one came running. It didn’t look like anyone had seen a thing.

That’s what I call a grand success,
her dragon said with approval.

Alex tied the guy’s wrists together and dragged him into a nearby closet—but not before fishing in his pockets to steal his keycard, of course. The card had the symbol of White Knight, a security company owned by the Convictionites. She pushed the closet door shut.

See? Smooth and stealthy,
she thought, brushing off her hands. She slid the keycard through the reader to open the door, then slipped into the back area.

She crept down a wide industrial staircase into an open hall that resembled a cargo area more than a basement. Guards in Convictionite uniforms rushed toward the back, their running footsteps a persistent hum beneath the screech of the blaring alarm. More guards stood at a wall of sturdy shipping crates, unleashing a steady storm of bullets. The occasional blast of elementally-charged magic answered the gunfire, more often than not taking down the trigger-happy brutes. With all the racket going on down here, it was a wonder the people in the club upstairs didn’t have a clue they were partying over a war zone.

The vampire magic was thicker now. The vibes throbbed against her senses, a generic blend of all three types of vampires. Either there were shapeshifter, demonic, and common vampires engaged in a bloody gladiator-style brawl to the death in another room down here—or she’d found the Blood Orb. She was betting on the latter. She couldn’t pick out individual vampire auras; it was just one big magical soup.