Blood Revolution (God Wars, #3) (32 page)

"They can't. Somebody else got that thing in and out," Hank said, snorting a curl of smoke. Yeah, he was really pissed. "You could have exposed yourself, Breanne," he said. More smoke ensued.

"And we'd be left wondering what the hell was going on," Opal snapped at Hank. "Bree was smart to go when she did. The rest of you," she flung out a hand. "I have no words."

"Look, we need to talk to Bree for a minute. Hank, Jayson and I," Bill said, dismissing everybody else. Well, here it came. Time to pay the piper.

"I'm staying." Trajan crossed arms over his chest and dared anybody to remove him. Bill had chosen the media room to do his grilling, and I watched as Opal shot him a dark look before leaving with Winkler and Weldon.

"Now," Bill said, rounding on me, "I don't know where you went, but you didn't tell us. I don't care how important it was, you could have sent mindspeech." He was right—I could have. They'd have argued, too, and that would have taken time I didn't have.

"I made a choice, instead of taking time to fight with all of you about it," I said. "You have no idea how tiring that is."

"Here's what we decided," Hank began. Well, they'd decided.
Yay
.

"You can take five swats from each of us, on your bare behind, or we won't have anything to do with you for a week. Your choice." Hank's eyes were completely dark, and more smoke poured from his nostrils. Well, that was lovely. They wanted to hit me or hurt me another way.

"Fuck all of you," I snapped. "You have no idea that this day has been crap, from one end to the other, and all you want to do is punish me for it. Fuck you, and in the worst and most painful way possible." I was wiping tears away as I stalked out of the room.

* * *

"That went well," Trajan drawled.

"Trina died. What the fuck do you expect?" Jayson hissed.

"You don't think Breanne would have saved her if she could? I don't think you know her very well. I've been watching her for three days, and that's not how she is."

"She didn't tell us she was leaving," Bill pointed out. "I want to stop that behavior, if possible. Do you have any idea what that does to us?" Bill indicated Hank, Jayson and himself.

"I'm beginning to understand," Trajan said. "But sometimes, you need to pick your battles. Breanne is right—you don't know where she was or what she was doing. I'll wait until I have more information before I threaten her with punishment."

* * *

"I am incensed," Acrimus declared. Calhoun cringed—Acrimus was grimacing again. "Our prisoner has disappeared. We are forced to relocate and our assassin failed to destroy Teeg San Gerxon."

"We followed, but the twists and turns through time and space," the Hound whined as he knelt before Acrimus.

"It was one of the Three," Acrimus waved the hound away. "I don't expect you to keep up with them. It was a noble effort. You may go." The Hound rose gratefully and turned to walk from Acrimus' presence. Acrimus leveled a blast at the Hound's back, relieving him of his corporeal body. "Do better next time," he shouted.

* * *

Breanne's Journal

Close to midnight, there was a knock on my door. Hank had moved his things out of the bedroom earlier—he'd known which choice I'd make. The trouble was, the fact that they'd offered swats was just as bad as handing them out.

"Breanne?" Charles's voice came through the door. Well, another country heard from.

"Come in," I said. No, Gavin hadn't weighed in, yet, and that worried me. I wanted to huddle into myself and wish the world away. One Gavin I'd seen today had been grieving. The one here refused to speak to me, now. And Charles was here. Joy.

"Breanne, I heard you disappeared for a few hours earlier," Charles walked in, shut the door behind him and came to sit on the side of my bed.

"I did." There wasn't any reason to lie.

"Was there a good reason?"

"Yes."

"I understand that your friend was killed while you were gone."

"She was." I'd spent the past three hours mourning that fact.

"Want to talk about that?"

"No."

"Have you been crying?"

"Yes."

"Here." Charles scooted closer and reached for me. "Now," he pulled me against him and settled my head on his shoulder, "This wasn't your fault. A criminal killed your friend. We will mourn her passing and keep her memory strong. Close your eyes. You look exhausted, my love."

* * *

I woke Saturday morning and realized I was expected to ferry Bill to D.C. Except that I didn't—they were keeping their word and not having anything to do with me. Hank was going to take Bill instead. Well, he could damn well skip to hell with the rest of them, too.

Charles had disappeared sometime during the night, but he'd left me comfortable and covered up in bed before he left. He was right—I had been exhausted. I wandered toward the kitchen, knowing that Trina would never be there, waiting for any of us again. Forcing more tears back, I went looking for something to eat. Nobody had pointed it out, but I hadn't eaten anything the day before, and my body wasn't reacting well to that fact.

Bill didn't say anything when he walked in—he merely went to the coffeepot and poured a cup of coffee. Winkler, Weldon and Trajan were out on the deck having their coffee, and as I didn't want to disturb them by walking away from Bill, I stayed where I was and kept eating my bowl of cereal.

Bill fixed eggs and bacon for a small army (I sure wasn't about to offer) and ate in silence. Kathleen shuffled in. He served her, then took his seat again. Hank and Jayson arrived, and I could tell they'd been beating on one another in the exercise room. They put plates together and sat down to eat.

My bowl went into the dishwasher; I found a notepad hanging on the refrigerator door, found a pen in a drawer, wrote out a note, slapped it in front of Bill and disappeared.

* * *

"Where the fuck did she go?" Jayson snarled, coming off his seat.

"Grocery shopping," Hank held up the note.

"Fuck," Bill grumbled.

"We told her she had to tell us. We didn't tell her we had to approve it," Hank sighed.

"You think she went to that store in Port A?" Bill asked.

"Probably not. She's pissed enough to go to China," Hank moaned. "And since she can speak the language, we'll probably have squid in the fridge when she gets back."

* * *

Breanne's Journal

I'd had to mist to my house in San Rafael and dig through my sock drawer for the cash I kept there, but I had money. No, I'd never asked Bill for the numbers to the accounts he'd set up, and I sure wasn't going to ask him now. I had several thousand dollars in my pockets, and I could buy wherever I wanted. I went shopping in France, because I hadn't had good cheese in a while.

I bought enough fruit for an army, too, along with vegetables, canned goods, prosciutto, all cuts of meat for the carnivores, cookies, bread, and anything else I thought we might need. I'd had to stop at a bank to get Euro, but everything was easy after that.

Thankfully, I was able to get help carrying bags out of the market, then placed compulsion before gathering everything in my mist and folding back to Texas. Yes, I'd bent time, so only ten minutes had passed for those still eating at the kitchen island. I busied myself, putting everything away.

"All of this is in French," Opal observed. She'd walked in halfway through my restocking episode and started reading labels.

"I went to Paris," I informed her.

"No squid," Jayson high-fived Hank. I had no idea why.

"Have a seat, I'll make an omelette for you," I told Opal.

"If you'll eat half," Opal offered.

"Sure." I made an omelette, put prosciutto in Opal's half and served it up a few minutes later.

"This is really good," Opal said around a mouthful.

"Prosciutto. I understand it's really good. I've never had any," I said, cutting into my veggie half of the meal. "It's Italian, but the market I went to seemed liberal enough."

"Cheese in this is awesome," Opal sipped her coffee.

"Yeah. I like French cheeses. Swiss cheese. Some Irish cheese. Stilton. Gruyere, if it's made with vegetable rennet. All of that with fruit. And crackers."

"Are you sure you're getting enough protein?" Kathleen asked.

"I got some protein drinks and bars," I said. "I'm not fond of them, but they serve their purpose. I didn't get to eat yesterday, so I'm hungry today."

Hank cleared his throat but didn't say anything.
Score
.

"How about some milk with that omelette, then?" Charles walked in, making my eyes almost pop from my head.

"What the hell?" I stared at him.

"I learned from Hank, there, that your blood may have interesting properties," Charles grinned. "I woke the day after I took from you, and didn't fry when I peeked outside. Two days later, I went to London during the day and ate two baskets of fish and chips at a pub. You have no idea how good it tasted."

"You've been talking to Hank?" I frowned at Charles.

"I got tired of listening to Gavin's phone ring so I answered," Hank shrugged.

"Oh, we're talking now?" I stared at him.

"I'm talking to Charles," Hank said.

"Go on," Charles nodded.

"Anyway, you asked me what the hell was going on with Breanne, so I told you."

"Oh, like Wlodek won't get his underwear in a knot if he finds out," I snapped.

"Wlodek won't ever know unless you tell him," Charles soothed. "He never asks me questions like that. I'm completely safe with the information."

"I don't believe this," I slapped a hand over my eyes. "All I need is for every vampire on Earth to think I ought to be killed."

"They'll have to kill me, too," Charles declared. "Because I'll stand beside you."

"Honey, that's sweet, but there's no way I'll let you do that." I went to the fridge to get eggs and prosciutto to make an omelette for him. He got his food fifteen minutes later.

"This is so good," Charles sighed after eating half the omelette in record time. "I didn't remember what real food tasted like before."

"Charles, please pace yourself. I don't want you to get a stomach ache," I said.

"Come here, sweetheart," Charles motioned me toward him. I went. "Here," he leaned in to kiss me. "That's for this, and making it so I can eat it," he grinned.

"What are we going to do about Trina's funeral?" Jayson asked.

"I've already sent her family a note, offering to pay," Kathleen said. "They said they'd let me know when the service will be held."

"This is all so wrong, it reeks," I muttered, stuffing dirty dishes in the dishwasher. I started cursing in French, then moved to Italian. Went to German after that, and then Russian. I ended up with the High Demon language, which made Hank raise his eyebrows in alarm. "Stupid, fucking difiks," I ended my diatribe and slammed the dishwasher door shut.

"All right, I call a truce," Bill muttered. "I can't handle this, sweetheart. Not talking to you when you're right in front of me. Refusing to comfort you, when I know you're upset. Telling you how grateful I am that you care about me at all."

"Bill, I love you. I don't care who knows it. Anybody who sees something wrong with that can kiss my posterior. Charles, I'm sorry you walked into the middle of all this. Has Hank given you the multiple mate speech? Because he seems really good at doing that behind my back. Jayson, on the other hand, just wants to hit me."

"Hey," Jayson protested.

"It's like this—if both parties want it, it's all fine and hunky-dory. If one doesn't want it, it's abuse. Right?" I stalked out of the kitchen, leaving them behind to discuss my snit.

* * *

"Yesterday was a test," Hank sat heavily beside me. I'd chosen a covered swing on the deck and tucked my legs under me to continue staring at the gulf.

"Some women seem to like the spanking," he said. "If you offer it often enough, and they learn they're really not getting hurt. Usually the swats are filled with a whole lot of fondling in between. Maybe some kissing, too."

"Sure." I refused to look at him.

"Look, we were mad. And upset. Still are, actually. Bree, why should we expect you to do something about Trina? None of us are helpless. We should have gone to the store with her and Jimmy. We didn't. We weren't doing our job, yesterday, and since you left us behind, we grabbed a convenient scapegoat when you got back."

"And nobody won," I muttered.

"Yeah. Nobody won. You're right about that."

"Is Charles recovering after the multiple mate thing was served up with breakfast?" I asked.

"He was completely cool with that when I told him three days ago."

"No surprise," I said.

"Bill wants you to come with us to D.C."

"Fine."

"You need to get cleaned up and dress nicer," Hank said.