Blood Song

“Ivan”—he gestured to the driver—“wil meet you next to the giant cap to the left of the main entrance.

He wil escort you and your guest to my section between the singing of your national anthem and the

throwing of the first pitch. And I wil see which of my sons or my retainers reacts to seeing you join me.”

It didn’t sound like much of a plan to me. But he was a king, and even I knew better than to point that

out. So I held on to the envelope and kept my mouth shut.

“And in case I am a fool, and my sons are better liars than I believe them to be, I wil also have with

me skil ed telepaths to read their thoughts as you arrive.”

Now that was more like it.

“In exchange for this, I wil pay you the money that was promised when you thought you were guarding

my son, and the amount your insurance would have paid for your injuries.” He gestured to the driver,

who came to stand in front of us. The king stood in a single fluid movement, and I stood with him. “To

ensure that you wil be alive on Friday, I have taken some … additional precautions.”

On cue, the servant unzipped the front of the bag, revealing the bloody severed head of my sire.

Um, wow. Okay then.

And while he didn’t show it to me, I was betting the heart was in the second compartment. How they’d

found him I had no idea. But it was him. No doubt about it. Wow. That went way beyond the pale as far

as payment in advance.

I was more than mildly surprised that I hadn’t noticed when it happened. Shouldn’t I have had some

sort of attack or felt pain or something?

I looked at the pleasant, debonair man standing calmly beside me. Everything he’d said had been

excruciatingly polite, but I wasn’t being given a choice about this and I knew it. I could assist him

wil ingly, or not. But I would assist him. Or it would be my head in the bowling bag.

I took a deep breath, and it came out in a sigh. I was incredibly tired of being corral ed, but I would like

this to be over. “I’l be there.”

20

Dawn took its own sweet time coming but eventual y arrived. When it did, I got into the rental sedan

and drove my sire’s head to the nearest crematorium. It was one of the big chains, so the minute they

saw the head they knew what had to be done. I was told it would be given priority treatment and that I

could pick the ashes up anytime after two. The look the clerk gave me said that he’d probably like to

shove me into the furnace after the bag. Fortunately, I was standing in a broad ray of sunlight, so he

couldn’t quite decide what to make of me and just took the head and walked away.

That done, I drove back to the expensive hotel where Bruno had been staying.

There was no way I wanted to brave the lobby, what with the bloodstains and my vampy appearance,

so I parked around back. Using his guest key card, I let myself in through one of the secondary

entrances. I could have gone home. The gas company had made their repairs. But David had cal ed

and left a voice mail tel ing me how the intruder had gotten through our security. He’d kil ed our pool boy

and taken his right hand. Exactly what had happened to Louis at Birchwoods. Home might not be safe,

which made a nice, anonymous hotel room seem pretty damned attractive.

I trudged wearily up a set of concrete fire stairs until I reached the appropriate floor. Pushing open

the door, I came face-to-face with a pair of men in almost identical navy suits with crisp white shirts

and dark ties. Each also wore a barely perceptible little ear-radio and a gold cross and each discreetly

held a single-shot pistol fil ed with holy water. They stood in front of the doorway looking stern and alert.

Well, crap.

“Good morning, ma’am. We’re with hotel security. We’d like to ask you a few questions.” Of course

they would. Who wouldn’t at this point? I smiled pleasantly. I’d seen the security cameras downstairs. I

wasn’t surprised that security had spotted me. My appearance was somewhat … irregular. “Of course.

My name is Celia Graves. I am Mr. DeLuca’s former fiancee and I’ve just gotten back from a policesanctioned vampire hunt of the bat that tried to turn me dead. Mr. DeLuca and his brother, Father

Matteo DeLuca, wil verify it. I’l be perfectly happy to wait here in the hal while you check with the

police.”

The larger man grimaced at the thought of us standing here, in the hal , in ful sight of any guests who

might pass by. But I was too paranoid right then to go anywhere with someone I didn’t know. Hel , I was

having a hard enough time with people I already knew.

Yes, they looked like hotel security, but no, I wasn’t taking any chances. Besides, the odds of anyone

actual y being up and wandering the hal s at this time of day were minimal. So long as we stayed quiet

and didn’t wake anyone, everything should be just ducky.

The shorter man reached to the smal black box affixed to his belt and began speaking very quietly to

the dispatcher downstairs. It only took a few minutes for someone to cal the police, confirm my story,

and get a detailed description of my appearance.

“ A sanctioned vampire hunt, huh?” The big man looked down at me with some surprise. Apparently

he wasn’t used to the idea of women being hunters. It also isn’t easy to get the authorities to give you

the nod. They’re jaded about that sort of thing. I suppose it comes from al of the idiots and teenagers

who go out and get drunk, then think they can take on the bats.

“Looks like you got him.” His voice was low and respectful as he gestured at my bloodstained jeans.

“Got one, anyway.”

“There was more than one?” The shorter man sounded surprised. Obviously he’d never had to deal

with vampires. His partner, however, was more savvy.

“Aren’t there always?” The big guy shook his head sadly. “It’s why I stopped hunting. If you don’t get

them al the first time, it just pisses the survivors off. You do not want to deal with a pissed-off bat.”

“Think they’l be coming here?” The boy sounded both nervous and eager. He was so damned young.

Or maybe I was just getting old. There’s more to age than chronology.

The big man shook his head. “It’s daylight, John. The bats are al dead in their coffins for now. But

we’l cal Maintenance, have the wards upped just in case.” He glanced down at the pale tan carpet that

was now stained with a trail of drying blood in the shape of my shoes. Oops. “And Housekeeping.

They’l want to get the carpet cleaned before the rest of the guests get up and moving.”

He gave me a curt nod as I slid the plastic room key into its slot. “Good luck, Ms. Graves.” His

expression grew very serious. “I hope you get the rest of them before they get you.”

“Thanks. So do I.”

I tried not to think too hard about his words as I stepped into the room and immediately slapped the DO

NOT DISTURB sign onto the doorknob. That done, I ducked into the bathroom and stripped off my clothing. I

didn’t want to think. I wanted a hot shower, a stiff drink, and sleep. Oh, God, how I wanted sleep. Yes, I

was worried about Matteo and Bruno, but my body was on the verge of col apse. Only sheer

stubbornness and fear of what might jump me unawares was keeping me upright. I needed rest; I was

practical y useless. But I was afraid of what might happen if I gave in and closed my eyes. I stepped

into the shower. The clothes were trashed. I had no idea what I was going to wear when I left this room,