Black Market Blood (The Lazarus Hunter Series Book 2) Page 7

  Was she now feeling that same camaraderie? All she could do was trust the gut instinct that told her Monica was still a loyal friend.

  If she was wrong, she would not survive an attack in her own home. Elizabeth tried to shake the memory, unsure if Monica would sense her doubts through the walls. She told herself not to be silly. It was all in her head, blown out of proportion by alcohol.

  Another war was coming, she thought as her eyes began to close. The game and its players were still undetermined, but the shift of power was too great for it to be otherwise. In the morning, she would wake, having already picked a side.

  Monica never claimed ownership of her, but would she need to, if Elizabeth always made this choice? Some humans went back time and time again. She understood now why people returned for more. Why they felt a compulsion to be with a vampire, even though they didn’t know that was what they were. They probably confused it with lust or love, a convenient emotion that Elizabeth knew it wasn’t. Something changed after you had been bitten. Something that tied you to whoever had done it, though she didn’t understand why.

  She didn’t want Jack to be right.

  She rolled over and pounded her pillow as she tried to get comfortable. Whatever weird connection tied her to Monica, it was not as strong as the rest of her, even after a few drinks. She would not surrender her own strength and identity to stand at the top of that slippery slope.

  Monica was the head of a family. To them, she was power incarnate. Of course the pull Elizabeth felt was strong, even if Monica wasn’t trying. It was easier to blame Monica than to open her mind to the possibility that a part of her would want it, like any other human did. Monica was the closest thing she had to a friend. She was also the closest thing to her greatest undoing during those dreams that came in the darkest part of the night.

  Now, worst of all, the nightmare was in a room just two doors away from her own.

  19

  Dennis sat alone in the club, any status he had in the family lessened in Monica’s absence. He took a swig of his beer and shuffled peanuts into his palm. There had been no word from her and he already knew where she would be.

  The music shifted and he looked around. This had been his favourite place once. Back when he and Monica had found a way to work together and integrate into the human world so well. She was the smart one, the one with the real head for business, but he had his own skills. Between them, they had carved a place for themselves that freed them from the one they inherited from the family through their individual bloodlines. They had both been nobodies in the Giordano family until Monica’s surprise selection. She had gone from bottom to top, whereas he had moved into a no man’s land all of his own. Still of low blood, his only access to the top was because Monica believed in him and their friendship. If she left MaxiData Corp behind, he would leave too. He had nowhere else to go.

  He should stop drinking. Nights like this he became morose. He hated being helpless.

  No one came over to his table. That was fine too. He didn’t need them to weasel their way in to get information from him. That would be all it was. Since Ivan and his attempted coup, Dennis trusted no one. Not even the Council of Elders members who ignored him as they came and went. Without Monica, they would laugh at any attempt to get into the chambers at the back. Tonight he was relegated to where they believed he should be; the social rooms at the front. If Lawrence had talked to Monica about redecorating, then it was a shame he’d died before he did anything. The room was tired and worn. It was an old vamps room. Did Monica see that? She hated it here just as much as he did, albeit for different reasons.

  His phone lit up and he glanced down at the notification. A message from Monica. Tension flooded his body as he read the words. Don’t feed.

  That was it? She disappeared and left him to deal with being here alone and that was all she wrote? He shook off his initial annoyance at the brevity and read the message again. Don’t feed. That was a bold request to make. No, it wasn’t a request, it was a warning. With sudden clarity, Dennis knew that the infection wasn’t airborne.

  He leaned back in his chair and looked around the room. It was a quiet night. He had only visited out of a sense of duty to Monica. To keep his ears to the ground while she was away. Others would be out on the streets or at work. Living their normal lives.

  Feeding.

  Should he tell them? Warn them? That was not his place in the hierarchy. He did not give out orders, even when Monica was around. Not unless he wanted to risk discipline or worse. He had taken the chance, once or twice, but it hadn’t made him popular in the long term. They would ignore him.

  Or worse, they would listen and then a full scale shut down would be all his fault. He twitched at his own impotence. Action needed to be taken and Monica could do nothing unless she was here.

  Dennis tried to calculate the time from his last feed. If he could do nothing to help anyone else, then the least he could do was ensure he was in the best possible shape to assist Monica on her return. All the times he had teased her, mocked her even, for her self-denial came back to haunt him. He had never agreed with her need to control herself. To deny what they were. It had amused him before she became his leader, but once she'd taken over, it was a fundamental betrayal of her example to the others.

  Now, Monica would be able to outlast them all if they couldn’t feed. Without fresh human blood, they could survive on frozen supplies for a time, but not for more than a few months. He couldn’t last that long. He knew it. He also knew he wasn’t the only one.

  He cursed Monica and her saving grace again. What was the point of being a leader, if you had no one left to lead?

  20

  Elizabeth woke the next morning with a hint of a headache and a lingering sense of a dream she wished she’d never had. Her hand instinctively went up to her neck and she grazed the faint bump of the scar there. It was nothing more than old skin. She shook off the dream and sat up. Time to face the day.

  She threw on her robe and headed downstairs. No sound came from Monica’s room to indicate she was awake too. In the kitchen she put on a pot of coffee, throwing an extra scoop in. This morning would need an extra kick. While it brewed, she went into her father’s study. She opened the curtains then closed them again and turned on the light. Elizabeth was nothing if not a good host.

  She booted up the laptop and stared at the loading screen. She’d spent three days trawling the internet for suspicious events. There was so much she’d been unaware of during her self-enforced sabbatical. To help Monica, she had to get back up to speed.

  She wandered back into the kitchen and poured a mug of coffee, musing about the best way to do it. By the time she sat back down, she thought she had a way.

  What she needed was a visual of population density by geographical spread. Her brain slipped into full research mode with ease. The data on her machine was at least two years out of date, but given the nature of her subject, that wouldn’t be a problem. A single family would cluster in one location. A few cities, such as New York and London, had a mix of families in a condensed area, but they were the exception rather than the rule. The territorial nature of the species made it safer to stay further apart.

  She tapped her lip thoughtfully. Mass migration was a variable that could throw the whole thing off. Was there any reason for that in the past few years? None that she could think of. She dismissed it as a stumbling block and moved on.

  Elizabeth was still connecting the dots when she realised she was being watched from the doorway.

  Monica stood there, wearing a familiar oversize man’s robe as she leant against the doorframe. Saul had borrowed it the morning after their night together. She’d thrown it in the spare room with the intention of washing it but had since forgotten about it. She swallowed down the embarrassment. ‘Morning.’

  ‘Morning.’

  ‘Did you sleep well?’ Elizabeth wondered if Monica’s dreams had been as unsettling as her own.

  ‘Perfect, tha
nk you. I feel kind of isolated here. I think I like it.’

  ‘Well, you never allow yourself to slow down. When was the last time you even took a holiday?’

  ‘You know I can’t take a vacation from the Family.’

  ‘No, but you can from MaxiData and I bet you don’t do that either. There’s a pot of coffee in the kitchen. Shall I get you one?’

  ‘I can go do it. I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

  ‘Mugs are in the cupboard next to the fridge. I’ve got milk but no cream I’m afraid. I wasn’t expecting you to stay over.’

  ‘That’s okay. Milk is fine.’

  ‘Actually,’ Elizabeth held her mug out with a cheeky grin. ‘If you’re going to get your own, would you mind getting me another? Then I’ll show you what I was up to while you were sleeping.’

  ‘That sounds like a fair exchange.’

  While Monica got them both a drink, Elizabeth pulled the final numbers together. Satisfied she had something that they could work with, she sat back in her chair. She’d spent months pulling data together for her studies, but nothing had given her the sense of accomplishment she had achieved that morning.

  ‘You look pleased with yourself.’ Monica sat Elizabeth’s mug down on the desk. She stood behind Elizabeth and peered at the screen. ‘Is that what I think it is?’ She leaned over to look closer.

  ‘Well, that very much depends on what you think it is.’

  ‘It looks to me like a map of the outbreak.’

  ‘That would be nice to know, but I don’t have that level of information. This is a map of family locations.’

  ‘What do the squares and triangles mean?’

  ‘The different shapes indicate different families. The gradient colours represent approximate size to the nearest 100 people.’

  ‘Impressive.’

  ‘Only if the data is accurate. Otherwise it’s nothing more than a pretty picture.’

  ‘So that’s me?’ Monica leaned forwards and touched a spot on the screen. The east coast of America.

  ‘Yup,’ Elizabeth replied. Her voice cracked. Monica was only inches from her neck, apparently unaware of the distance. Was the breath on her scar real or imagined? The more Elizabeth willed her heart to slow down, the faster it wanted to go. Her hands were frozen on the keyboard.

  ‘That’s quite acceptable,’ Monica stood upright and took a sip of her coffee. ‘I didn’t realise that we were doing so well.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Elizabeth allowed herself to breathe into the new-found space between them.

  ‘I know how many people there are in my Family. Roughly. I haven’t done any kind of census, although I probably should. As for the other families, I have no idea how many they have. As long as they don’t spill onto my territory or cause trouble, then I don’t care. I’ve always believed there is space for all of us.’

  ‘As long as everyone is sensible, then there is. There are approximately 8 million people in New York City. A few thousand vampires is small in comparison.’

  ‘Are you trying to make me feel insignificant, Miss Hastings?’

  ‘You know what I mean. This is based on original data my father collected. I’ve tweaked the numbers for standard population growth and the deaths caused by infighting after his murder.’

  ‘A sensible decision. So your father collected this kind of data on all the families?’

  ‘Where he could.’

  ‘I never realised his studies had gone into such depth. I assumed his work was mainly about historical analysis.’

  ‘History and culture were the areas he enjoyed the most I think. But he was better with people than I am. They trusted him. People are more willing to talk to those they trust.’

  ‘I trust you,’ Monica leant against the desk. She seemed to have become completely comfortable in the professor’s study after all. ‘So he wasn’t the only one able to do the job.’

  ‘I still need your help.’

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘This data is only the start. Without the numbers of those sick or dead, it remains useless.’

  ‘So what can I do?’

  ‘Could you talk to the heads of the other families? Convince them to share their numbers for the greater good. Then I could do so much more with this. I might be able to pinpoint the source of the outbreak.’

  ‘Does that mean you’ve made a decision?’ Monica put her mug down on the desk. She tugged the robe tighter around her and folded her arms across her chest. It sent a strange combination of aftershave and perfume Elizabeth’s way. A scent of the past already gone and the future ahead. ‘I know you’ve had all night to think about it. I don’t want you to feel I’m pushing you into it. You can still walk away.’

  ‘I know. Part of me wants to. I don’t want to risk my life again. We’re not even one hundred per cent certain that I can’t catch this thing. It could be that it kills vampires quicker but gets us in the end too.’

  ‘In which case, the sooner you help then the sooner you can make sure that doesn’t happen.’ Monica smiled and Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh in response.

  ‘I’d forgotten how you could turn any argument around to make it work in your favour.’

  ‘It works in business and it works in life. But I mean it, you can still back out.’

  ‘Can I be honest with you?’

  ‘Do you really need to ask?’

  ‘I don’t want it used against me. I’ve spent over a year at a desk. I’m out of shape. If I go back with you then word will get out. There are enough vampires in New York who still want me dead.’

  ‘If that’s what you’re afraid of then I can offer you protection. Round the clock.’

  ‘I appreciate the offer, but there was a time when I didn’t need it. If you remember, I was quite well known for being able to protect myself.’

  ‘Where is the pendant by the way?’ Monica’s eyes roamed down to her neck again.

  ‘It’s in the safe. Locked up with all my father’s things. It belonged with them. It was part of my old life.’

  ‘I would suggest start wearing it again if you decide to come back. You might feel vulnerable, but the Pendant of Lazarus will certainly make people think twice.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Besides, if it’s physical fitness you’re worried about, then I can also offer you full use of my personal trainer and home gym.’

  ‘You have a personal trainer?’

  ‘Is that so hard to believe? I use him more as my yoga instructor than anything else. He helps get my mind clear.’

  ‘That’s the other thing. It won’t matter if I’m physically fit if I’m not mentally fit. I need to be sure I’m one hundred per cent behind my own decision.’

  ‘What percentage are you at now?’

  ‘About ninety.’

  ‘Pretty close. What will push you that extra ten per cent? You name it, I’ll do it.’

  ‘You can’t promise that. You don’t know what I need.’

  ‘I think I do. You need to know you can walk away any time. That you have your own free will. What more can I do to prove that to you? I haven’t done anything to manipulate you. Persuade you, yes? But I’ve never used anything other than my arguments. Not from the very first time we met.’ Monica stared straight into her eyes and Elizabeth knew she was telling the truth. She held her gaze for a few seconds before looking away.

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘Then what are you afraid of? Do you want me to promise that I’ll never bite you again? Do you need me to actually say the words?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Elizabeth felt the panic rise again with the memory she was repeatedly failing to push back down. Monica leaned in closer until Elizabeth could see the crystals in her ice blue eyes.

  ‘Or are you afraid that I wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation?’ Monica whispered with a smile.

  ‘That makes me sound like an egomaniac.’

  ‘Maybe you are, a little.’

  ‘Making fun of m
e isn’t going to win me over.’

  ‘I know, but it’s fun. Seriously, you think I can’t handle being around you? Why?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘Your defences are naturally strong. Even if I decided to try – which, I’ll say it again, I don’t intend to – I couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do.’

  That, Elizabeth wanted to say, was part of the whole damn problem.

  She took a deep breath. This was one of those do or die moments, and she hoped she didn’t mean that literally. ‘I’ll help you. But if it stops feeling right, I will leave again.’

  ‘Understood. Thank you.’

  ‘Don’t thank me yet. Thank me when it’s all over.’

  21

  Monica flipped another page of her in-flight magazine, her eyes reading the words but her brain elsewhere. Elizabeth had grinned like a child when she’d discovered that Monica had booked them both business class. It had injected a moment of levity into the proceedings. Now, as Elizabeth slept her way through the red-eye, Monica was awake. They would land in the pre-dawn light but she would have to go straight to the club. Once there, her day would begin whilst most of her kind slept.

  It felt like a victory, of sorts, to have convinced Elizabeth to come back with her. The reluctance hadn’t been unfounded. Elizabeth had made plenty of enemies over the years. Before the two of them had met, Elizabeth’s focus had been laser sharp. Her sole purpose had been to avenge the death of her father and in doing so, she had killed without remorse. Plunged into their world without training or real introduction, she had done what she needed to survive, without the finesse of her father. His was the reputation of a scholar who sought to preserve life in the fairest ways. Hers was of a hunter, prepared to kill any vampire who got in her way.