Blood Destiny: Blood Passage Part 9

Franklin must have known by my expression just what I was going to say before I said it. "I don't trust any vampire," I said. "They're all full of secrets and they squeak when they turn loose of one of them. And when one of those secrets gets me in trouble or nearly killed, they don't really give a s.h.i.+t. Do they?" I tossed underwear into my suitcase a little harder than was warranted.

"Lissa, they're a secretive race. It's difficult for them to invite trust. They anger quickly too, for the most part."

"Well, same here," I said. "If it took going to bed with Gavin so he wouldn't kill his cousin, then so be it."

"Is that why you did it?"

"Not the whole reason, no," I grumbled. "I'm still a little p.i.s.sed about all this. Why didn't they tell me up front they wanted to sell me off to somebody instead of parading me in front of a bunch of old vampires, just to see who put up a winning bid?"

"Do you have any feelings for Gavin?"

"Yes. Of course I do. It's just, I don't know." I sat down on the bed and put my head in my hands. "How did my life get so f.u.c.ked up, Franklin? How?"

"Terrible things happen all the time, little girl," Franklin came over to sit beside me. "Come on, you're better than this. I know you're stronger than this. I don't know too many vampires, werewolves or humans who would willingly rush in, grab somebody strapped with a bomb and haul them out of the building, just to save a bunch of people who almost killed you to start with."

I lifted my head and looked at Franklin. "It was bad enough, seeing all of them there and about to get blown up, but what scared the bejeezus out of me was that Merrill was there, too. Now, I still haven't forgiven him for getting me sick when he ordered me to drink from a kid who'd taken a whole medicine cabinet one night, but I sort of like him."

"I know," Franklin patted my back. "And in a perfect world, well," he didn't finish.

"Frank, I've seen the picture on his nightstand. There's only one reason for a man to have a woman's picture on his nightstand. I can't compete with that. Not now and not ever. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind," I quoted Shakespeare. "It's as simple as that."

"Is that your favorite quote?"

"No. But it's the one that fits," I sighed. I sat on the edge of my bed, contemplating the twists and turns my life had taken in a short span of time. "I get the idea that the woman in that photograph is so special, n.o.body can come close," I added.

Franklin smiled at me. "Shouldn't you be packing?" he asked, tapping the edge of my suitcase.

"Yeah. Don't remind me. I have to go guard the king of the werewolves and his court jester, who came all over my clothes the last time I saw him. Can you explain that to me? What kind of custom is that?" Franklin laughed and we were back to normal.

Merrill drove me to the airport the following evening, after making sure I had plenty of money, my credit card, pa.s.sport, driver's license and anything else I might need for the next three months. I wasn't sure how I felt about spending three months with the wolves. Gavin already knew when I phoned him; Wlodek asked Charles to give him a call. He wasn't happy, but then I knew he wouldn't be. Being merely unhappy would have been an improvement over what he was. He was angry when he called. And he lectured me quite extensively over the whole thing. Lots of don'ts came out of his mouth. "Don't let that werewolf put his hands on you. Don't trust any of them. Don't let them put your life in danger like the last time." The list went on, but those were the big ones. It's a good thing vampires don't have heart attacks, strokes or aneurysms. Gavin would be well on his way to vampire limbo if that were true. He also ordered me to check in regularly. In his eyes, he owned me, and I was tired of being owned already.

Russell waited for me when I got to the Council's private hangar. It was misty outside-London at its November finest. Merrill talked while he'd driven me to the airport. I was the experiment, he'd said. The first officially cooperative effort between vampires and werewolves (like I hadn't been there already). Merrill said he was hopeful that the trend could continue; future alliances could be beneficial to both sides. I realized that as well as he did. Werewolves could move about freely during the day, something the vampires would never be able to do. A single vampire was generally much stronger than a single werewolf. If they combined their efforts, rogues could be captured swiftly. On both sides. I hadn't heard any more about the Briggs family-did Lester have others out there, waiting to cause trouble for the werewolf community? Briefly, I wondered about Tony, whom I'd met in Corpus Christi. He was the Director of the joint NSA and Homeland Security Department and sole purchaser of the software Winkler had developed. He'd been such a nice person to talk to and to know.

"And there's the little mister now," Russell grinned at me while another vampire loaded my luggage onto the plane. Will arrived shortly after I did, and I surprised him greatly by giving him an unsolicited hug.

"Thank you," I said.

"For what?" He was completely confused by my grat.i.tude.

"For standing up to Gavin as much as you did when he brought me back from Corpus Christi," I said.

"Now, is this the same Gavin you're engaged to?" Russell looked puzzled.

"Yeah. The schmuck."

"It's the same Gavin, all right," Will snickered.

"Lissa, I am not even going to mention to Gavin that you hugged someone else," Merrill said.

"Good," I said. "Russell, do you want a hug, too?"

"I'll take whatever I can get," Russell said, embracing me.

"Now there's another one you can hide from Gavin," I handed Merrill a level glance.

"You must be quite angry with him," Merrill observed.

"I am. Have a nice Christmas." I waved at him and trotted up the steps to board the jet.

"He's a little controlling," Merrill almost coughed into his hand.

"No. Gavin? No way!" Will's voice dripped with sarcasm. "That girl was crying the whole way from New York to London and he sat there and did nothing. f.u.c.ker." Will never minced his words.

"Come on, Will, let's get going. You can talk to Lissa and trade horror stories about Gavin on the way," Russell slapped Will on the back.

"Merrill," Franklin looked up from the grocery list he was writing out at the kitchen island.

"Franklin."

"Father."

"Child?"

Franklin sighed and looked at the only father he'd ever known. Merrill would always look as he did. Franklin was growing older with the years. "Lissa feels trapped, father."

"Tell me something I don't know," Merrill grumbled.

"If Gavin doesn't loosen his grip, he's going to lose her."

"I know that too."

"I don't really know how to say this next part." Franklin felt uncomfortable for the first time in a long time. He'd considered telling Merrill that Lissa cared for her surrogate sire in more than a fatherly way, but eventually decided against it. Merrill's affections lay elsewhere and nothing Franklin might do could change that.

"Then just say it. That's the best way." Merrill wasn't in the mood for subtlety.

"Lissa knows things, father. Somehow, I get the feeling that there will come a day when none of you will be able to control her. And she won't forget how she was treated or what was done to her."

"Griffin says the same thing."

"Well, Griffin would know if anyone would." Franklin went back to his list.

Russell and Will made me laugh on the trip, which was a welcome change. They called each other names, too. I heard a lot of "p.r.i.c.k" and "a.s.shole," among other things, all while teasing each other unmercifully, along with several dirty jokes, which also made me laugh. The night in New York was uneventful; we got back on the jet the following evening and flew into Grand Forks. Unsurprisingly, Winkler was there waiting for me, along with a werewolf I hadn't met before-someone named Kelvin Morgan.

"Kelvin's new in the Dallas Pack. Davis is there keeping things in hand while I'm away," Winkler grinned at me while Will and Russell handed my bags off to him and Kelvin, who stowed them in the back of the Escalade Winkler was driving. The man had more money than was decent. Or werewolf, I should say.

I got a friendly hug from both Will and Russell before they ran back up the steps to the Council's jet. They were heading to Chicago and then on to a.s.signments from there. I didn't ask and they didn't tell me. "Come on, time's a wastin' and we have to get you into bed before sunrise," Winkler teased. Honestly, I just wanted to tell him to shut the h.e.l.l up. He'd ruined some really good clothes the last time I'd seen him, never mind the fact that Gavin had been so p.i.s.sed he could have spit and then scrubbed me in a shower afterward, all while cursing in multiple languages.

"I sure hope you're not offended by vampires," I told Kelvin when he leaned over the pa.s.senger seat to look at me while Winkler drove like a maniac over the dirt and gravel roads leading to Weldon's place.

"Nope. Not a problem," he grinned.

Weldon was still up when we arrived, although it was nearly five in the morning. "Kathy Jo and Daryl are asleep," Weldon whispered as he led us through the house. Weldon had added onto his log home since I'd seen it last. It was now nearly twice as large. I complimented him on the changes. The inside had been redecorated; more than likely from Kathy Jo's influence and the fact that she was going to give birth to Weldon's first grandchild before long.

I was given the same bedroom I'd had the last time. The deer head had been removed from the wall and I was grateful for that. Honestly, that gla.s.sy-eyed stare right above my head would have given me nightmares if I'd been capable of having them. Maybe I should have asked Weldon to put Lester Briggs' wolf head on the wall instead; I might not mind seeing that, to be honest. Lester and his seditionist werewolves nearly killed me months earlier with their bites and the werewolf saliva that was subsequently trapped in my body.

"We leave tomorrow afternoon for Des Moines," Weldon informed me as we both stood before his ma.s.sive fireplace. He also gave other information that might have made my blood run cold if it weren't already. "We have a body bag for you and we'll be packing you inside it, so wear something to sleep in that you won't mind us packing you up in," he said.

"Weldon, if I had any way to do it, I would march right out of this house and leave you and Winkler to your own affairs," I said, my hands on my hips. "It's bad enough being dead to the world between dawn and dusk, but to be manhandled by somebody in the meantime? Does the Council know about this?" I figured if Gavin knew about it, he'd be having a fit and on his way to North Dakota if he didn't have an a.s.signment to take care of.

"Um, Wlodek is the one who suggested it, in case we needed to move about during the day," Weldon offered sheepishly.

"You know, I've never called the Head of the Vampire Council a rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d before, but I'm thinking about it now. Rest a.s.sured he wouldn't let somebody treat his most holy self this way." I was mad and thinking that all of Weldon's newly decorated log home might be turned to kindling in a matter of minutes.

"Lissa, we'll take good care of you, I promise," Weldon said.

"Weldon, if you knew how close your house was to becoming toothpicks, you'd save those empty words for later," I snapped.

"Lissa, you should know we won't let anything happen to you during the day," Winkler was now making an attempt at rea.s.surance.

"William Wayne Winkler, do not even try." I swatted his hand away as I blazed past him. The bedroom door was nearly torn from its hinges when I slammed it behind me.

"I didn't think she was going to take that well," Weldon muttered, but of course I heard.

No way was I going to wear pajamas. No way. I went ahead and took a quick shower, dressing in navy fleece pants and a t-s.h.i.+rt. I also kept a bra on and I hate going to sleep in a bra. My hair was braided, too, so I wouldn't have bed head. At least I hoped I wouldn't. Who the h.e.l.l would be picking me up and stuffing me inside a zippered bag? Would they be taking liberties? The whole thing p.i.s.sed me off and I would have tossed and turned if that was possible. The last thing I put on before conking out at sunrise was socks.

"If I didn't know from the smell, I'd say she wasn't vampire," Kelvin said as he lifted Lissa up and laid her inside the body bag that Winkler held open. "She doesn't weigh much. Seems like she should be more, oh, substantial, I suppose."

"I wouldn't say that to her face," Winkler said. "She's substantial enough to put you through a wall, along with a dozen of your closest friends."

"Are all vampire women that pretty?" Kelvin watched as Winkler carefully zipped Lissa inside the bag. He'd laid an extra black cloth over her face and the front of her body; he didn't want any burns from leaking daylight.

"There are precious few vampire women," Winkler said. "The vampires would never have agreed to this if it weren't important, and since she's considered Pack, she was the logical choice. Weldon had to pull as many strings as he could, still, to convince them. She's a rarity, or so I've heard."

"Is she going to be able to breathe in there if she wakes up?"

"I have the alarm set on my watch for half an hour before sunset," Winkler said. "We should have her someplace safe enough to open the bag by then, in case she's claustrophobic or anything. I didn't get a chance to ask her last night and we've got extra bags in case she punches right through this one."

"I guess there's that," Kelvin nodded. He was getting his education in vampire 101 on this a.s.signment. According to his paperwork, he'd just finished his residency at a New Mexico hospital, moved to Dallas to join the Pack and Winkler had agreed to set him up in his own practice when he got back after this a.s.signment. Kelvin just didn't have experience with what he termed the undead.

Winkler's private jet waited at the airport in Grand Forks. All the luggage was loaded in, along with Lissa's body bag, which Winkler tossed over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Weldon was the one to suggest making it look like a garment bag, so they'd placed loops on the ends to give that effect. They made it to Des Moines just as the sun was setting on a mid-November evening. Winkler's watch went off so he walked to the back of the jet where Lissa's bag had been stretched out in the floor.

"We'll wait until she wakes to take her off," Weldon came up behind Winkler, who was kneeling in the floor, waiting for the first signs of life. Winkler glanced at the windows; dusk was settling around Des Moines International Airport. He unzipped the top of the bag and pulled the black cloth away from Lissa's face. He'd watched her wake before and it always sent tingles through him, watching her take the first breath of the evening. This time, however, she must have remembered what they were doing because she came awake with a start, gasping in a breath and trying to claw her way out of the bag. Winkler knew then that she was a tiny bit claustrophobic.

"Stay away from the claws!" Weldon jerked Winkler back; he'd been trying to get to Lissa.

"Lissa, listen to me," Weldon soothed after he'd shoved Winkler into a seat off to the side. Winkler was awkwardly trying to climb out of it again. "Lissa, you're all right. We're in Des Moines, sweetheart." Lissa's eyes were wild as she ripped the carpet on the jet's floor with deadly claws, all of which were extended to their full, one-foot length.

"Jesus, I didn't know they were that long," Kelvin came to stand behind Weldon.

"Shut up," Winkler hissed. "Lissa, wake up, baby. It's just us. n.o.body's here to hurt you."

I blinked, seeing nothing at first. My breaths were ragged and I was s.h.i.+vering as I tried to come to terms with unfamiliar surroundings. Winkler's voice was in my ears but I didn't understand what he was saying at the moment. Disorientation was clouding my brain and I blinked again. "Lissa, n.o.body's here to hurt you." Winkler repeated off to my right. Slowly I focused on him while sight and colors returned. I was in the floor of his jet, my claws were extended and my breaths trembled in my lungs.

"Lissa, you can stop shredding the carpet, now." Weldon's voice, this time. Looking down at my hands, I noticed that I had indeed shredded Winkler's carpet. Like he couldn't get it replaced-probably in the next five minutes if he wanted. No way was I going to apologize for that. I was still sitting inside a half-zipped body bag on the floor of his jet. My claws retracted and Weldon breathed a sigh of relief.

"Want some help out of there?" he asked.

"No, thank you," I said as stiffly as I could. It wasn't the most graceful thing I've ever done, but I crawled out of the bag on my own.

Winkler offered to carry me off the plane. I offered to remove his liver. He allowed me to walk down the steps on my own. The Des Moines Packmaster (I'd never gotten his name when he'd introduced himself to Weldon at the werewolf meeting earlier in the year), was there waiting for us. All I remembered from our previous meeting was his smell and that he'd taken down someone named Corwin, whom Weldon had obviously liked. The man was around five-ten, stocky and looked to be pure muscle. No way could he take Winkler or Weldon, though. No way. This guy had probably gone as far as he could go.

He introduced himself to Winkler, who nodded and took his hand. "Avery Phillips," he said, nodding and smiling when Winkler gave his name. Avery already knew who it was, I could tell. He fawned all over Weldon, asking about Daryl and his new wife. Weldon was tactful, I'll give him that. Avery remembered me too; I could see it in his eyes, although he didn't speak to me. I figured most of the Packmasters remembered me quite well. I'd killed at least twenty of them, more than likely right under their noses while I'd protected Weldon from Lester Briggs and his henchwolves. Only two wolves eventually came to help, along with Daryl, Weldon's son.

"We're here to do the inspection. Weldon does it for all new Packmasters after six months or more," Winkler dropped back to speak quietly with me. I still felt rumpled from being tossed around in a body bag. Winkler and Kelvin had flung my purse and everything else inside my suitcase, so I didn't even have a mirror to check my hair.

"He's doing it tonight?" I squeaked, staring at Winkler in alarm.

"Oh, no, we're going to dinner. Avery will drop us off at our hotel first and wait while we change clothes before taking us to a restaurant. He'll do his best to impress, but the meeting with the werewolves of the Pack will come tomorrow night. If there are any grievances or problems, The Grand Master will hear them. Weldon has experience sorting out truth from fiction."

"If not, there's always compulsion," I shrugged.

"Exactly," Winkler grinned at me. "Actually, you're a big part of the reason we're making such a lengthy trip-you accounted for quite a few Packmaster replacements across the country."

"Don't blame this on me," I elbowed him in the ribs. "Mr. I was in Corpus Christi at the time werewolf."

"Too bad I wasn't there; I might have saved you a few bites," Winkler chuckled.

"You got eyes on your a.s.s?" I snipped. "That sounds like hindsight to me."

We had three suites in a hotel near a bridge on the river. Each of the wolves was getting his own suite. Winkler and Weldon had connecting doors and I was set up in the living area of Weldon's suite so I could provide night security for the Grand Master. Winkler already offered his bed for me to sleep in during the day; it was his and Kelvin's job to see that I wasn't disturbed and the curtains remained tightly closed. Fortunately, my body bag had been left inside the jet. The werewolf pair that had flown us got rooms at a hotel near the airport so they could see to the plane, getting it refueled and ready to go in two days.

A quick bath and a change of clothes made me feel quite a bit better. I dressed in a nice pair of slacks, boots and a sweater with a jacket to go to dinner with the wolves. It was just below freezing outside so I wore appropriate clothing. Avery had two cars waiting for us outside the hotel as we trooped through the sliding gla.s.s doors at the entrance. Winkler and Weldon went with Avery and another werewolf while Avery's Second, Norwood, drove Kelvin and me. Norwood and Kelvin sat up front talking; I sat in the back seat and listened. I learned that Norwood worked as an EMT with the local fire department. Kelvin explained that he'd just finished his residency in oncology, so they found quite a bit to talk about. Fine with me. I pretty much hate small talk and listening to a conversation about intubating a patient almost made me glaze over.

Of course, we ended up at some ritzy steak house; werewolves are notorious for eating half a cow at one sitting. I listened while they ordered a ton of food and then watched as they tore into it. Wisely, I kept my comments about their eating habits to myself. Avery didn't speak to me and neither did Norwood, since I was the vampire security detail and beneath their notice. Maybe I should have reminded them I was Pack, but Weldon probably wouldn't appreciate that. Not one tiny bit. Avery turned out to be a namedropper and enjoyed tooting his own horn a little too much for my taste. I'm sure he might have regaled Weldon with his exploits on taking his predecessor Corwin down, but even Avery realized that bragging over that feat would be a major faux pas. See, I do know a little French-not that it would impress Gavin in the least. An old friend of mine used to call that term fox paws. I smiled at the memory.

"What are you smiling about?" Avery's Second looked at me and asked.

"I was just thinking about an old friend," I said and let it go at that.