Chapter 10

TEN

Asha

The remaining drive to Fairmore was uneventful. We make a few stops, mostly for the dog. I watched everyone as subtly as I could. There were places where I realized that Braxton had more than a soft spot for his dog, and more a giant squishy heart for the beast. And where I realized that Max was more than a little irritated by him slowing us down.

But whether his issue was with the dog, our timeline, or something else…I wasn't sure. All I knew was that the second we entered town, the tension in our vehicle was palpable.

"Where exactly are we headed?" I ask, and my voice sounds loud in the silence as I stare out at the darkened streets of the busy town.

"To an informant."

I frown. "Does he or she know where my pack member is now? Because if they don't, we'd be better off going to the last place they were seen."

"Why? You got some kind of secret locater power you didn't tell us about?" Braxton asks from the backseat with a grin.

"No." My answer is clipped because I don't want to say more. As scared as everyone seems to be of my pack, I'm sure they're just as confused about how to use our new powers as I am. My magic is like some kind of utility belt that seems to get me out of a jam, but I still don't exactly know how. I do , however, think that something in my confusing powers would help lead me to my pack member.

When I don't say more, Max does. "The informant has information we need. You two need to stay quiet and follow my lead."

Ugh. I glance at him. He’s wearing another dark suit, this one a very deep grey color that makes his tan skin look even tanner. And, for some reason, makes his brown eyes look different in the darkness of the car. Every time a lamppost’s light falls over us, the shadows on his face draw attention to his strong jaw and pleasant features.

Pleasant? Fuck. I need to get the hell out of the car.

“You two need to be nothing more than shadows, do you understand me? This is a delicate matter. A matter I know how to handle.”

I snort, which causes him to give me one of his looks. Not quite irritated, but sure as hell disapproving.

But Braxton simply says, "Yes, sir," even though there's a hint of amusement in his voice, which tells me he's going to listen to that command about as well as I will.

These two… they’re hard to figure out. Harder than I imagined. Like they’re both really good at concealing who they really are. At another time, in another life, I might have made it my mission to figure them out. Instead, I look back out the window, trying to forget they’re even here.

Max drives through the active town to the even busier main street where people are still out shopping and grabbing dinner, seemingly unaware of the trouble that's come to their door. I see a few vampires who almost blend in with the humans, a handful of shifters laughing together outside a club that hasn't yet opened. Basically, nothing out of the ordinary.

Supernaturals have always gotten along with humans, for the most part, as long as humans continue thinking we don't exist. I just hope I can find a way for the Blood Pack to find a place in this world too.

A place that doesn't involve being hunted like animals.

We pull off of the main road and weave down some quieter streets before turning off the road and onto a long driveway surrounded by large trees. Eventually, we stop in front of huge gates. Max presses the button beside the gates, and we wait.

"Identify yourself," a deep voice practically growls over the intercom.

"Enforcers Max and Braxton Blackwell," he responds, and an instant later the gates open.

We head down a long driveway lined with trees and arrive in front of a very modern-looking mansion with all straight lines, dark marble, and huge windows that are apparently tinted, because I can’t see anything inside. Max cuts the engine then turns to me and Braxton.

“This source isn’t just important for our case. He’s an important man. Let’s try not to piss him off.”

“I didn’t plan to–” Braxton and I say at the same time.

I glance back at him, and his eyes are wide as he stares at me. A spark crackles between us, and then he tilts his head. “I think he was talking to me.”

“Doubt it,” I say.

“I’ve had twenty-plus years of ignoring his orders and screwing things up.” His words are a challenge.

“And I’m a Blood Mage. Check and mate.”

He grins at me, and I almost smile before remembering where we are and why we’re here. Every second spent on this bullshit is a second I’m not helping my pack. And they deserve someone who’s focused, not this.

Max clears his throat. “Actually, I was talking to both of you.”

“Fine,” I say, then climb out of the SUV, hearing their doors opening and slamming behind me.

Trouble goes racing past me into the woods, and I look back at Braxton with a frown.

He smiles. “He’ll be back. Just needed to run some of that energy off.”

Okay, I guess the dog is okay then…

I take a few steps forward when the door to the mansion opens and two men appear. Inhaling sharply, my nose instantly wrinkles. Yeah, technically, I’m part vampire now, but I don’t think I smell the way they do. Like roadkill that’s been sitting in the hot sun for hours. It’s a vampire thing. Sometimes their smell is worse, sometimes not so much, but there’s always a hint of death around them.

Both big men are stone-faced and nod slightly at us as Max and Braxton come to stand at my side. One of them, a man with long blond hair and a scar across his jaw says, “Right this way, he’s waiting for you.”

I instantly snap into action and just barely catch the raised brow Max gives me as I hurry after the guards, the two other men closely at my heel. We enter a massive mansion that looks exactly the way I pictured, only better. Ridiculously high ceilings and minimalistic decorations make it easier to focus on the incredibly well-built structure.

Whoever owns this house, he’s got good taste and an eye for design.

We suddenly stop at a door and the guard pushes it open, then he indicates for us to go in. Max starts forward, but I’m faster, pushing forward and practically running in to enter before him. Which is probably stupid, but makes me feel a little better. Like I’m not just some lackey. Like this mission is my mission instead of just a job like it is for the Enforcers beside me, because that’s what it is.

In the spacious room, a blond man with short hair and a slight beard leans against a desk. A fire blazes behind him and jazz plays on a record in one corner. He has a drink half-tilted to his lips, a drink that strangely looks like a mixture of scotch and blood.

Actually, as I take a deep breath, I’m pretty damn sure that’s exactly what it is. I scent the copperiness of it and also the deep, intense flavor I associate with scotch, along with the smoky scent of the fire crackling behind him.

As I move closer to him, I frown, pulling my focus from the scents around me and to the man himself. Something is off with him. Like he’s… sick, which makes no sense, vampires don’t get sick.

Do they?

His blond hair is strangely dull, almost stringy. Not at all how most vampires keep their hair. In general, they’re a vain lot and would do just about anything to preserve their youthful appearance. But it’s more than that. He’s pale. And I know people always make jokes about vampires being pale, but they aren’t. Because they can go out in the light, that’s not something we supernaturals associate with them. His color though? It’s sickly, almost green. And his blue shirt and dark slacks are wrinkled and unkempt, hanging off of him like he’s recently lost some weight. Not something I’d think a man who owns a place like this would wear.

“Mr. Blackwell,” he says with surprising relief before setting his drink down and moving forward to shake Max’s hand, followed by Braxton’s. He doesn’t shake my hand, just casts me a curious glance, then focuses back on Max. “Thank you so much for coming.”

Max takes one of the seats the man indicates for us to sit in, seemingly ignoring the fact that the man seems to be some kind of sexist asshole. Although, fine, he looks like he’s been through some shit, so maybe it’s more about that than me being a woman. Maybe his thoughts are occupied by whatever he’s dealing with, whatever reason we came here.

“Thank you for seeing us, Mr. Vangardee.”

The vampire practically collapses into a big leather chair by the fire, leaving Braxton and I to sit next to Max on the couch. Our thighs touch for the briefest moment where energy sings between Braxton and I before I jerk my leg away from the big shifter. But even so, his body feels too big to be next to mine, and it’s the first time I realize how much smaller I am than him. Somehow, keeping him in the backseat for most of the trip gave me just enough distance to avoid this weird feeling between us.

“This is a delicate matter,” Mr. Vangardee begins, interrupting my strange thoughts. I glance at him and see him staring down at his hands, looking lost.

“Delicate how?” I ask.

Max shoots me a dirty look, then refocuses on the man in front of us. “We understand. Everything you say here will be classified information.”

The vampire’s gaze meets mine then sweeps to Braxton and then Max. “For a man like me, if this gets out, my reputation will be ruined. The money… the money pisses me off, but money can be replaced, my reputation cannot.”

“Understood,” Max says with a nod.

The vampire drops his hands, crosses his legs, then uncrosses them and settles back against his chair looking even more uncomfortable. "You must understand that I’m an important man, so I have guards, but they’ve never really had to do anything other than remove guests who had a few too many drinks. They are more or less… just in case, but I don’t require them to be at my side. So, when there was a lovely evening earlier this week, I decided to go out for a walk alone.”

I don’t know why, but I study the man. He seems embarrassed that something bad happened to him, which logically makes no sense at all. If someone hurt him or took advantage of him, they should be the ones embarrassed not him, but I hold my tongue, because I don’t quite understand what’s going on yet, and the last thing I want to do is make the wrong move and piss Max off even further.

Mr. Vangardee takes a deep breath and wipes his palms on his pants before continuing. “I saw a young man wearing a hoodie. He looked like the thousands of other young people who frequent the park, so I thought nothing of it. But when he went to pass me, he suddenly turned and gripped me so damned hard… harder than I ever thought possible and began a spell. I struggled to get away from him, but then I felt a horrible burning on my arm and all thoughts escaped me.

I came to on my knees with him standing over me. He told me that either I withdraw a million dollars and drop it back off in that exact spot in four days, or by that time in four days I would be dead. He said the mark would spread until it slowly killed me. And before I could so much as argue, he ran away.”

Fuck. I’d seen this before. The marks on the berserker woman and her men. They also were given a task or their mark would kill them. But those Blood Mages died. How did this one learn the same thing?

And, please, don’t let it be my brother doing this.

Or maybe I should hope it is him. At least it’d mean he wasn’t as crazed as the others, and that he was close enough for me to find him and help him. But it would also say something about the man he became, a thief.

Not that I’m one to judge. He, or whoever he is, probably has his reasons for doing this and it’s probably about more than greed. At least, I hope it is.

“Time passed,” he continues, shaking his head, “and the mark spread. It was painful, horrible-looking, and it felt like as each hour passed I felt worse and worse. I went to witches, ancient vampires, even fucking shifters and demons.” He winces, as if remembering we’re shifters, but continues. “No one could remove the mark. So, I did the only thing I could, I arrived at the park and gave him the money. Only, I also had my men track him. They lost him in an industrial park.”

“Can you get us the information on where he marked you and where your men followed him to?” Max asks.

The man nods. “I have a file with the information already. But I want to make this clear: I couldn’t give two shits about the money. I want this man found, and I want him killed.”

“Like hell!” I say, my fists clenching.

Braxton reaches over and touches my knee, and I jerk it as far from him as I can. His hand curls into a fist and goes back onto his leg. “What my partner here means is that Enforcers don’t just go around killing people. You called us to fix this situation, and we will.”

Max is glaring at both of us, but I ignore him.

“Another thing… can you describe this man for us?”

“Describe him?” the vampire says, almost sneering the words. “He was some young punk in a hoodie with impossible magic. I’m sure if you three get within a few feet of him you’ll smell the wrongness of his fucked-up Blood Mage powers. I don’t think you need more than that.”

I realize I’m holding my breath and release it. “Dark hair? Blonde hair? A fucking clown wig? How about you tell us something, bloodsucker!”

“Asha.” Max’s voice is cool and calm. “Wait for us in the car.”

I leap to my feet. “What did he look like?”

Mr. Vangardee leans back in his chair with a smirk. “Like a desperate piece of shit.”

Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve leaped across the room and I’m on him, my hands clenched in his shirt. “What the fuck did he look like?”

There’s swearing behind me. Someone shouts my name, but my eyes are locked on the coward in front of me. I feel my fangs elongate and my claws grow.

His eyes widen. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

“Tell me what he looks like before I make you wish that mark killed you,” I growl, my wolf raging within me.

“I didn’t see, okay! Just the hoodie! Just that he was a young guy. Maybe with dark hair, I don’t know.”

I’m yanked off of him by Max. I almost smack his hand away, but the intensity of his brown eyes stops me. “Wait in the car, Asha. We’ll deal with this later.”

“Max,” I growl his name.

“Now, or this will be your last day on the case.”

I hesitate, but the look on his face tells me he’s serious. So, I straighten and take a deep breath, letting my nails and claws return to normal. Turning, I nod toward the vampire. “We’ll find this kid, Mr. Vangardee, but I want you to think about the fact that once upon a time vampires were called monsters. Hell, some people still call you monsters.”

Then, I turn and leave the room, ignoring the fact that I can feel Braxton’s eyes burning through me. I march out the door, ignoring the guards, and head right out to the SUV, but I don’t get in. I’m just too fucking pissed. Instead, I pound my palms on top of the hood. This is a lead to a pack member. Maybe even a lead to my brother. I’m so close I can almost taste it, and that guy… I don’t know, he just pissed me off.

“Well, that was smooth.”

I whirl around to find Braxton behind me. But to my surprise, he has a bemused look on his face rather than an annoyed one.

“That guy was a douche,” I tell him, daring him to disagree with my tone.

He comes closer. “Agreed.” Trouble comes from the woods and races up to Braxton. The guy kneels down and pets the dog with a smile still on his lips. “But, girl, you have to work on your bedside manner.”

I snort. “I’m not a doctor.”

“No, but you’re doing a job that requires some delicate work, and that was not delicate work.”

I glare at him. “I got my answer, didn’t I?”

“And you could have gotten it without attacking an important man, getting yourself, me, and Max in trouble with the Enforcers. Max would have gotten to the Blood Mage’s description if you’d given him more time.”

Is he right? “We’re wasting so much time with this shit.”

His startling gaze meets mine. “Really? Because without the Enforcers would you even have a lead to your pack?”

I open my mouth, then shut it. He’s right. But I don’t like that he’s right. “He was a dick.”

“By stating what most people think about your kind, without knowing that he was in front of one of them?”

Hell. Okay.

He continues. “And what did you think of Blood Mages before you became one?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t think about them. I didn’t know they existed.” The words feel strange. It’s hard to even think about a time when I was that innocent.

He comes closer to me and leans on the SUV. I shift a little away, and he definitely notices. “I’ve been thinking though. Are you guys Blood Mages?”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you were made to be like them, but you aren’t actually. You’re something else. I kind of think you should have a different name.”

I stare and stare. He’s the first person to say something like this, but he’s absolutely right. Why do we call ourselves the same thing as the people who hurt us? “You’re right.”

“So.” He flashes another smile. “Maybe we should come up with another name.”

“Alright,” I say.

Then he hesitates, his smile falling away. “Sorry for touching your knee. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay,” I say too quickly.

He shakes his head. “No, it wasn’t. I’m a touchy person by nature, but I shouldn’t have assumed you would be okay with me entering your personal space.”

Fuck. I swear I actually think if he put his hand on my knee now, I’d let him. “Uh, thanks. I’m not… anti-touch though, I just have a big personal bubble.”

His pale eyes brighten. “Okay, well, you just let me know if I enter it, and I’ll try my best to be aware of it.”

I feel like that grumpy green guy who hates Christmas because I feel like my heart grows several sizes. “Agreed.” Then, I release a slow breath. “So, how mad do you think Max is?”

“Well, he was calm and patient… so probably pissed as hell.”

I laugh. “So, that’s just how he is? Because Mr. Robot Man is driving me crazy.”

“No, that’s just him,” Braxton says, standing up and smiling down at Trouble. “Until you get him really mad, and then that guy is not someone anyone wants to mess with.”

“Seriously?” I ask, lifting a brow, because I just can’t imagine that.

“Seriously,” Braxton says. “My ‘big’ bro has a dark side, and God help anyone who sees that side of him.”

“Maybe I want to see it,” I tell him, trying to picture it.

“You must have a death wish,” he jokes.

My smile vanishes. Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know anymore.

Trouble moves away from Braxton and comes up to me. He stares at me, tilting his head like he’s trying to figure me out. I stare back at him unsure of what the beast wants.

“Trouble is good at sensing when someone is in distress.”

“I’m not in distress,” I tell him, trying not to sound offended.

He shrugs his shoulders. “That’s what everyone says.”

Ignoring his words, I go to the SUV, open the door, and climb in. The thing is that my heart is racing and my palms are sweaty. I’m not sure why, but I want to leave this place and find my pack member. That’s all that matters to me, that should matter to me. There isn’t room in my life for anything else, including my dark thoughts.

I just hope when I find my pack member, I can save him, because I can’t… I just can’t lose anything more.