Blood Inheritance (The Lazarus Hunter Series Book 1) Read online

  'I've told you, I'm not going to tell you anything.'

  'Well, what happened to your face? Did you walk into a door? Three times?' he added with aggressive emphasis that hid the real concern he was feeling.

  'Dennis, if I tell you what I know, then you'll end up getting even more caught up in this than you already are.'

  'I thought we were in this together. I'm on your side. I tipped you off to the fact that Ivan wanted to have you removed from leadership in one way or another. Don't you think it was dangerous for me to do that too? I thought we were friends. I thought we were in this together.' He hated to sound like he was upset, but on some level he was.

  'Don't you see? What you know already is enough for them to kill you if it all got out and everything went wrong. I don't want to make things any worse.'

  'Well, if I already know enough to be killed, how can me knowing any more make it even worse? Unless there is another level beyond being dead that you know about and I don't?'

  'Please Dennis, I can't do this.' She slumped forwards on her desk and it was clear she still hurting from the previous evening.

  'Jesus, let me look at you.' The anger disappeared as he began to realise how weak she was. He sat on the edge of the desk next to her and tipped her head up with his hands. 'Man, you took some hits there. Look, I know you went to help her. Four dead vampires are more than she and her little bunch of groupies could do. I know you want to protect her, but at what cost? Look at you.'

  'I just need to feed. I guess I haven't had the chance.'

  'What about your emergency pack?' Dennis sighed when she just shook her head. She might be his boss, but she was infuriating sometimes. 'You're not playing a sensible game here. You need to be firing on all cylinders. There are too many people just waiting for you to be weak enough to take a hit. Right now, I figure even I could take you out if I really wanted to.'

  'Don't lecture me Dennis,' she groaned, letting her head fall back onto her arms.

  'Lecture you? You should be grateful I'm not kicking your ass.' Dennis stood up and double checked the door was shut. He rolled up his sleeves with jerking movements, his frustrations at Monica's stupidity evident in all of his body language. 'I can't believe I'm having to do this. At your age you should know better.' He sat back on the edge of the desk and lifted Monica's head as gently as he could, offering her the soft flesh on the inside of his elbow. Her eyes grew dark just looking at his veins, but she shook her head.

  'It's not fair on you. There is no point in us both being too weak to do anything.'

  'I had a feed last night. I'm about as topped up as I'm ever going to be. I know it's not as good as their blood, but it will do for now. Just take what you need to get you through, and then we'll get you home.'

  She was his boss. His friend. His leader. What he was offering her was more intimate than anything else they could share. In the silence he began to question how far he would go to help the woman in front of him. Whether one day, she would need more than he could offer.

  33

  Monica did not need a second invitation. All the willpower she had been forcing upon herself began to dissolve now she could see the flesh in front of her, swelling and pumping before her eyes. His skin was so black against the crisp whiteness of his shirt, the soft swell of his veins pushing it towards her. She could hear it too; the soft whoosh of blood moving through his body. Her teeth slid gently forwards, locking onto their target, and she could feel the world around her starting to slip away on the periphery of her vision. A dim voice at the back of her brain told her she should only take the minimum, only take what she really needed to get back on her feet.

  Somewhere in the distance she could hear Dennis's voice, calm at first, but slowly growing louder and more insistent. The arm beneath her lips began to tug away, but she latched on even more tightly, not wanting the feeling to stop as her strength began to return. Then she felt a fist tighten in her hair, followed by a sharp pain at the back of her head as Dennis pulled her away from him with a strong tug of her hair.

  'Owww,' she semi-screamed as her mouth flew free, blood dribbling down her chin as her awareness returned and the hunger died back down inside her, the beast sated.

  'Sorry,' apologised Dennis, untangling a few lose hairs from between his fingers, dropping them into the wastepaper basket. He pulled a wad of tissues from the container on her desk and pressed them against the wound. It had been made worse by the tearing of her teeth as he had pulled himself free. 'You were getting a little bit carried away. I didn't really have a choice I'm afraid. You look better already though. Do you feel any better?'

  'Much,' sighed Monica, allowing herself to lean back in her chair. 'I didn't realise just how far I'd gone.'

  'Why the hell didn't you use your emergency pack?'

  'I don't know. I was ashamed I guess.' Too weak to lie, too tired to care. Besides, he had given her his blood. If she wasn't too proud to take it, then she shouldn't be too proud to admit anything else.

  'What?' Dennis was incredulous.

  'I know it doesn't make sense.'

  'It's more than that, it's crazy. You know what you are. You know that you can't starve it out of you and it'll just go away. All that will happen is that you'll die. A slow painful death of starvation, or a quick painful one at the hands of your enemies. Monica, do you know how crazy it is for our leader to be ashamed of herself? Of us?'

  'Of course I know that. I'm not stupid Dennis.'

  'Well, right now you could fool me.'

  'It's not always black and white you know. It's not always us and them and nothing in between.'

  'Yes it is. You can pretend all you want, but when it comes down to it, you have to look out for yourself, and look out for us. They won't help you when the chips are down.'

  'Look, I don't expect you to understand. I've never had many female friends. Damn it, you're about the only friend that I have. It gets lonely, and I'm guessing you don't want to start having conversations about shoes and shopping. Not that I think she would either, but you know what I mean. She knows what I am, and it was really nice to just pretend to be normal for a little while. I didn't want to ruin that by having her see me tear open a blood pack and start feeding.'

  'If she's so accepting of who you are, then she has to be accepting of all the bits of what make us who we are. And that includes the way we feed. That has to be her choice. Either she will or she won't accept seeing it, and you can't make her.'

  'I know. I just wanted something for myself for a little while.'

  'I hate to tell you this, but the moment that you became our leader, you lost all that. It's something that you'll never get back. But if you do come close, then it will be in a time of quiet and peace, not crisis. You can't take a break from being in charge of us. The family may not realise right now how much they need you, but they do. And they will realise it in time. So you need to look out for yourself and be strong, both physically and mentally, if you want to live.'

  'I know.'

  'I'm not sure you do. Now, I want you to go home. I'll handle things here for the rest of the night. You go home, have your spare pack. You need some real pure blood inside you, but I'm not sure you should be out on the streets hunting right now.'

  'I have far too much to do here, you know that.'

  'This part of your life can function without you, at least for the next twenty-four hours. The rest of your life can wait until the morning. Okay?'

  'Okay. Thank you Dennis. I don't know what I would do without you.'

  'It's part of my job. And I'm going to be with you every step of the way. As long as you let me help you, and listen to me when you know I'm right.' He stood by the doorway and rolled down his sleeves, the blood from his arm already no longer flowing, the skin beginning to heal underneath. 'Now go, I'll talk to you again tomorrow.' He gave her a smile and let himself out.

  Monica closed her eyes and knew that he was right. She let out a sigh and tried not to think of the coming days and
weeks ahead.

  34

  'I don't know what's more irritating,' sighed Ivan. 'The fact she did it, or the fact we can't prove she did it.'

  'I think we know now where her loyalties lie.' Marcus Alexandrias was getting bored playing politics already. There were far more enjoyable things he could be doing with his time than sitting with the man opposite.

  'They lie with herself.'

  'What do you mean?' Marcus was used to other vampires being self-sacrificing and pathetic. He was intrigued by a woman who would put herself first.

  'I'm not sure that her loyalties are necessarily tied to Elizabeth Hastings more than her own family, although that would be a nice thing. Labelling her a traitor and having it stick would be a much quicker and more painless solution to our problems. But sadly, I think she simply knows that the journals contain things she would be stronger for knowing. I believe she thinks she is acting in the best interests of the family. Unfortunately, her interests and ours do not tie together that neatly.'

  'It is a shame we cannot eliminate her completely, Ivan.' Intriguing or not, Marcus cared for nothing that got in his way.

  'I agree, but there is very little we can do for now to make that happen. At the first available opportunity I will attempt to put an end to all this.'

  'But what about now? We seem to be a little bit stuck.'

  'We're just on hold, that's all. Monica has managed to form a very strong set of alliances, albeit unusual ones. A bit thin on the ground when it comes to the vampire element, if you know what I mean. But strategically I think that may actually be working in her favour. Spreading the weaknesses and strengths around. I propose for now we just take a few days to rethink our own strategy.'

  'Are you sure we can continue doing nothing?'

  'It seems we don't have a lot of choice in the matter. We should refrain from showing our next hand until we absolutely have to.'

  'It's your choice, I suppose. But I wouldn't wait too long if I were you.'

  'I'm completely aware of the time constraints facing us, you know that.'

  'Do I suspect the lack of a plan B?' Marcus grinned. Men like Ivan did not intimidate him. He had grown up around elders who were much more cunning.

  'Don't be rude. Of course there is a plan B, I just wasn't anticipating having to use it, that's all. And now that I am, it seems wise to think it through a bit more, rather than rushing in and requiring a plan C. Of which, there is none.'

  The two men looked at each other, worry and concern etching their faces, despite their flippant conversation. Monica was proving to be a much more formidable foe than they had first assumed. In fact, Ivan had assured him she would not be aware of anything at all until it was too late. The fact she had somehow managed to stay one step ahead of them when she wasn't meant to be a player at all was completely unforeseen. He was right when he said they should rethink plan B before rushing straight in. If there was another stinging humiliation like the last one, he would start to lose credibility with the very people he was trying to court. Ivan had promised Marcus from the moment she had been chosen that Monica would not be a problem, and he had believed him.

  For a while it had all seemed to go so smoothly. Especially when Elizabeth Hastings had not immediately appeared on the scene. Marcus could not help but wonder what the Professor would think if he could see all of this now. All his carefully laid plans gone to waste, all the years of studying coming to fruition in exactly the way he had least wanted. Marcus believed he had organised his own demise and put those he cared about in danger, simply by getting involved with things that did not concern him. For countless years, their two races had lived side by side with one party blissfully ignorant of the other, and that was the way it should have stayed.

  Now they had been forced to take matters into their own hands. It was unfortunate that Monica appeared to believe otherwise, but she would ultimately have no choice but to agree with them. If she refused to submit to the truth, then he would get rid of her completely. Which was something he had no problems doing and suspected Ivan wouldn't either. No problems at all.

  He took a sip of his drink and wondered at his complete lack of remorse for what they were about to do. For him, it was fun. For Ivan, he believed it was only right that the person who had taken away his immediate destiny of being head of the family should suffer. He was so certain that it was his ultimate path, and Monica was simply preventing him from getting there as soon as he would like. He and she could not both co-exist if his destiny was to be fulfilled.

  That was a situation Marcus was more than happy to exploit.

  35

  It wasn't a subtle message, Monica thought, as she rubbed her hands over her eyes. She felt so tired, and this day was officially going from bad to worse.

  Eric's dead body, propped against her apartment door with his neck torn and bled dry, was probably the most in-your-face warning about anything she had ever received. It served a couple of purposes, and one was worrying her more than anything else. It would appear that whoever had done this still couldn't get into her apartment, but they had gotten pretty damn close. Her sanctuary was being threatened, and that was something that Monica held dear.

  She suspected that was the point.

  It wouldn't actually take much to get rid of the body. Centuries of living alongside humans had allowed a highly effective disposal team to develop, but getting rid of it would not make it go away. Not really. Eric had always been a loyal bodyguard, but that was cold comfort now. He had been chosen because he was naturally strong, so it was a concern that he could be killed so easily. It didn't exactly fill her with confidence.

  She shook her head and glanced down, noticing for the first time a piece of paper sticking out from under Eric's jacket. She reached down and pulled it gently from beneath his clothing, noting there was no blood on it. Whoever had put on this little display had clearly taken the time to do it properly.

  Monica felt the bile beginning to rise in her throat as she carefully unfolded the piece of paper. The writing on it was elegant, unhurried, with the air of someone who was entirely literate and comfortable with a pen. She had briefly hoped, even though she knew that such hope would be futile, she would recognise the handwriting and have an easy solution to the mystery. Instead, there was a simple instruction that she should check her answering machine for messages.

  The fact the killer also now had access to her personal home number was another thing to fill her with a sense of unease. She entered her apartment with the adrenalin in her body running on overdrive, even though all her senses told her that no one was in there. She would have known, would have been able to feel it with every fibre of her being, if someone had made it into the rooms. Instead, the only faint trace she could smell was Elizabeth, the hint of her humanity still lingering in the air with the odour of stale coffee.

  She walked over to her phone and hit the button, afraid of just what message she might find there. She thought of Elizabeth and how vulnerable she had seemed earlier. Beaten and bruised already, she would not have the strength to fight alone against a psychopathic vampire. Monica was certain that this vampire was deadly. There had been no hunger to the killing. It was an execution, as simple as that. Eric had been nothing more than a messenger, and had paid a heavy price for his role.

  The voice that came from the machine was deep. A man, slow and distorted. Again she found herself hoping there would be some instant recognition, that it would be Ivan's voice and all her suspicions would be recorded on tape for the rest of the family to hear. But it was not his voice, and she didn't think she recognised it as one of his close friends either.

  The message on the tape made her blood run cold. She hit the rewind button and played it again. It did not go away. Monica checked her watch and made her way into the bedroom, quickly changing into clothes more appropriate for what she needed to do. Then she rang Dennis, telling him that she was going to go and sort this thing out once and for all.

  36


  Dennis stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the railing, still feeling wired from giving his blood. He dried the water off his arm and checked to see where Monica's teeth had punctured his skin. The wounds were starting to heal nicely, and would be barely noticeable by tomorrow.

  He wrapped the towel around his waist and walked out into his living room, keen to grab a beer and settle down for a low-key evening with his own regular human, a pretty girl whose company he enjoyed a lot. He needed her tonight, just to escape from everything for a couple of hours.

  He had always thought that Monica was a sane and rational woman, one who had done so well in life by managing everything so competently. Now she had become the head of the family and it seemed like all they had built was about to come tumbling down. He had known it was not going to be easy. It was going to be something of a juggling act to balance the life she had had before with the one that had been thrust upon her, but he had believed if anyone could do it then Monica could. Now he was starting to have his doubts and that terrified him.

  He popped the cap, glad the beer was cold. It felt good as it chilled his throat, and he physically felt himself begin to unwind. He did not realise just how tense he had been holding himself all this time. He ambled over to his phone and saw that he had missed a call from Monica at some point. That woman simply could not let work go, even at the end of a day like this. He rolled his eyes and set the bottle down, listening to the message she had left him.

  Suddenly, all those relaxed muscles tensed right back up again. He clicked a few buttons, scrolling through his long list of contacts. He was already making his way into the bedroom looking for clothes before it began to ring. He was awkwardly pulling on a T-shirt when the other end connected.