Bloodlines 1 Alliances Read online

  Bloodlines 1: Alliances

  Toni L Meilleur

  Published 2008

  ISBN 978-1-59578-414-8

  Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2008, Toni L Meilleur. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Liquid Silver Books

  http://LSbooks.com

  Email:

  [email protected]

  Editor

  Vikky Bertling

  Cover Artist

  Dawn Seewer

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  Earth Year 2172

  “Oh come on, baby,” the beautiful brown girl cooed at him. “Look at me. You know I could pleasure you.” She wiggled her slender hips in emphasis. Snuggling up to him at the morally questionable P and B bar. Its legal name was Plasma and Blood bar, built especially for vampires and other bloodsucking creatures, but through the centuries with owners changing, so did the quality. Unofficially, it was now called the Pussy and Blood bar.

  “I’m not interested in what’s between your legs, girl, maybe a little higher.” The vampire grinned lewdly. Staring at her average size but firm breasts barely contained in the white crop top she wore with jeans. He clearly wanted blood in the most erotic way.

  “If that’s your game? You paying, I’m playing.” she said slyly.

  “What’s your price, slut?" He palmed her breast roughly.

  “Thirty credits,” she answered, watching his face for a reaction. When he merely nodded, she guessed she hit the jackpot. Another rich aristocratic vamp looking for a thrill in the low-end. She’d show him a thrill. “Let’s go out back to the alley for a little privacy.” She grabbed him by the hand and shivered inwardly, careful not to let him see her revulsion. He snaked his hand away from hers and wiped it on his pants leg. Some nerve, she thought, as if she were the scum. She pointed to the exit sign barely lit at the rear of the smoky, smelly bar and followed cautiously. No way was she letting a vamp at her back.

  She giggled as she walked, trying to appear intoxicated and slutty. Her curly black hair bounced around her face, at least the face she was wearing tonight. Her body wasn’t spectacular, its appeal lay in the fact that it was so well proportioned she could have been made from a perfect mold. Slightly above average height, with chestnut brown eyes that made men melt, yet vamps totally ignored them. No matter, she had other things to entice a vamp with.

  The cold air was welcoming, though not fresh. Anything surrounding this bar was stale and rancid. The vamp turned to her, his cold eyes never made contact with hers. He was riveted to her chest and seemed to sniff the blood just underneath. Self centered bastard, she thought. Pretending to stumble, she reached in her back pocket for the small handheld injector. She giggled coming closer, her arms outstretched to cradle his head to her chest. Oh, sure that touch he welcomed. He growled his anticipation and began to bend down, his eyes never leaving her chest. Good boy, she thought before she squeezed the contents from the injector into his neck.

  “What the fuck?” He stepped back from her. His eyes unfocused, he curled his hand into a ball ready to strike her. It wasn’t his day. She’d done this way too many times. She ducked, shot her slim leg out and tripped him. She wasn’t foolish enough to try to hurt him—they didn’t go down easily. Besides, she’d do more damage to herself anyway. He tumbled down and twitched as the chemical temporarily paralyzed him.

  “Let’s see what you got old man,” she muttered to herself. Then smiled, this one was loaded. “Who are you anyway?” She fumbled in his pockets for more. Then he began to convulse. She frowned, that never happened before. Curious, she stepped back a few inches. The convulsion strengthened until he began flopping about in the dirty alley. “What’s wrong with you?” Her heart fluttered in alarm.

  Something wasn’t right. All the injection did was immobilize them for ten minutes, this, this just didn’t look right. Then just as quickly as he started, he stopped. His wrist was the last thing to flop about. It turned his hand palm up, and what she saw on his wrist made her gape and draw back. No! No! No! But even as her mind screamed, it denied it as well. She picked up the money and ran as fast as she could. As she fled she changed faces. Her hair became blonde and waist length, her skin honey colored. Her eyes though still chestnut, now slanted up. She couldn’t afford to be identified. She was now a murderer, responsible for the death of the reigning executioner’s brother.

  * * * *

  He watched the woman run and made sure she was out of sight before he knelt in front of the body. The tattoo identifying his clan seemed to glare in the night. All was going according to plan. Now the girl was on the run. He had her scent and could find her anywhere, anytime. His time had come. Another figure joined him, flicking his cigarette at the body. Humans and their annoying, disgusting habits. “You want I should call this in?”

  “No, let the locals find it. It’ll cause more attention.”

  “And the girl?”

  “Girl?” The vampire looked amused.

  “Yeah, the slut that took him out.”

  “Your eyes deceive you, but I expect no less from humans. She’s a shifter. Your kind would never find her, well maybe you, but leave her to me.”

  “You plan on having a little fun with her?” He poked the vampire in the side. Only to be greeted with a cold stare. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “Fun?” He seemed to be alien to the idea. “I guess you could say that. Stay low until I call you.”

  The other man fished around for another cigarette. “When will that be?” When he looked up for the answer, the vampire had already vanished. “I hate when they do that creepy shit,” he said to himself then picked up the tossed cigarette butt and relit it. “Can’t leave any clues behind.” Smiling he left the alley.

  * * * *

  Allantra waited one more minute to make sure no one would see her before she shifted into a form appearing to be male and made her way up to the three story flat. Her now black eyes—glancing around quickly—seemed too big for her, uh…his face. “C’mon Jah, answer the damn door!” She practically yelled. She heard shuffling inside and muffled voices, a fumbling of the locks, and then Jah’s face appeared between the crack in the door. “Dammit, Allantra. Do you have any idea what time it is?” he asked in a hostile tone.

  “Apparently time for you to get your rocks off?” She glanced down at his pants that were not as fastened as he thought. The tip of his still hard penis poked out. Hastily he adjusted.

  “What do you want?”

  “Whoever is in there get them out. Something went wrong tonight.”

  “L-Look, just go, w-we can sort this out tomorrow.”

  The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Jah was stuttering. He only did that when he was guilty. Then a thought occurred. She stared closely into his eyes. Yep, right there, barely discernible was a yellowish cast to his eyes.

  “You saw me through my glamour, Jah,” she chided softly. His eyes bulged.

  “Lucky guess, who else would it b-be this late.” He tried to lie. Allantra kicked the door so hard it slammed into his face and then closed. She quickly opened it before he could lock it and stepped into the small apartment. Her eyes immediately adjusting to the
dark. She wrinkled her nose at the smell as she spotted the figure huddled on the bed in the two-room apartment.

  “Get him out of here before I get violent,” she said coldly. Not needing a second warning, the figure rose quickly, grabbing a pair of pants and hastily adorning shoes. Allantra snorted, smelling the drugs in the junkie’s system. He paused and looked at her then hurried out the door.

  “I’m sure you could find a human with untainted blood, Jah,” she sneered.

  “I-I like it this way.” His tiny fangs didn’t help the stutter. “It doubles my bang.”

  “You’ll never mature into a full-blooded Vamp with that stuff in your system.”

  “Not ready to grow up.” He sounded petulant. “Besides, I like my life.”

  “Which brings me to my next point, you sold me a tainted injector. I suspect you know that”

  “Tainted?” he squealed out. Inching away from her and towards the small stand near the bed.

  “Move another muscle and I’ll be willing to rip your head off before I get my answers.” Abruptly he stopped moving. “Why, Jah? For an enhancement that will only last a week?”

  “The cops are getting close. I need to know who they are so I can stay in business.”

  “I knew it,” she said quietly. “That’s how you knew it was me. Who paid you to do it?”

  “I don’t kn-know.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “N-no I’m not.”

  “Last chance.” Allantra stepped forward letting her hands shift into claws. “Tell me what I want to know or be like Peter Pan and never grow up.”

  “Some guy, he said to sell it to you. I didn’t even make it, Allantra. He gave it to me. Said it was a one time thing and no one would get hurt.”

  “What else did you tell him?”

  “H-he asked about you. Look I was scared. I mentioned the vamp you’d been telling me about who started frequenting the Pand B.”

  “You gave up me and my mark?” Allantra looked at Jah in disgust.

  “He promised you weren’t the one he was after. Said the vamp was rogue and he needed a little help bringing him in.”

  “And you believed him?”

  “No,” he said quietly. “Look, it was business, Allantra. He gave me the enhancement for free. All I had to do was give it to you. I knew you wouldn’t be injecting it into yourself, so I…”

  “Thought if would be fine.” She finished for him. “Did it ever occur to you it was meant for someone else to be hurt?”

  “They’re all lowlifes at that bar you scam at. Who cares if it’s one of them?’

  “I do. You do realize I’ll be wanted for murder if they ever find out I was the one who injected him.”

  “Shit, Allantra, that’s a tough break, but that is your business.” He shifted on one foot, his greasy black hair falling over his eyes. Skin and bones is what came to mind when one saw him.

  “Yours now, too.”

  “Yeah? How so?”

  “The vamp died, you moron!”

  “Died?” He swayed. “Do you know the penalty for killing a vamp?”

  “Yeah, asshole, and guess who the vamp was?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Demetri Buscan.” Jah paled visibly.

  Allantra almost wanted to feel sorry for him. But she had her own problems to contend with. The thought of dealing with the Executioner in any form alarmed her. His reputation was legendary and ruthless. Once she’d seen him up close and personal walking the street as if it was made for him and his use only. Those eyes of his had seemed to look through her, then past her. Of course she was shifted into the form of an old human man. But he had left enough of an impression on Allantra to steer clear of him.

  “Demetri Buscan as in brother to the Executioner?” he squealed the last part.

  “You got it, Bones, and if I go down, so do you. So you better tell me what this guy looks like.”

  “He was this tall.” Jah held his hand over his head. Allantra shifted to make herself taller. “Brown hair, no not that shade, lighter, yeah and… uh… shorter.” When Allantra finished shifting into Jah’s description of the man, she ordered him to get a camera. “Keep your hands where I can see them. Remember, I’m still willing to rip off your head,” she growled. Allantra’s mind raced as Jah clicked the camera, and then gave her the small disk with the pictures he’d taken.

  Shifting back into the man she originally came as, Allantra said, “Get the hell out of town before…” She never finished the sentence. Jah’s door burst open and she quickly pressed the picture to her wrist and covered it smoothly with her skin, concealing it. Lights flashed in her eyes as a tall vamp stepped forward. His jet-black hair pulled back into a ponytail that went past his shoulders. His exotically shaped hazel eyes stared coldly at her. He wrinkled his aristocratic nose at her; she’d seen a nose just like that tonight. His full lips snarled, showing long pointed fangs as he formed the words, “Arrest her.”

  “Well, that was quick,” she muttered to herself. “No sense keeping up appearances.” Then she shifted back into her given form of Allantra. The vamp cocked his head to the side as if suddenly puzzled by her. She could smell him, he smelled wild. Don’t look at his eyes, she counseled herself.

  But the advice was fruitless, as again those eyes seemed to pierce her. The belly drop she felt the first time she’d seen him up close repeated itself. Against her common sense and while being arrested, Allantra wondered how he would taste. She shook her head. It was as if she’d suddenly gone into heat. She’d heard that about other shifters doing it, but could her life suck so much that it happened for a vampire. The Executioner at that? What the hell was the matter with her? When she should be thinking about her life being snuffed out, she was wondering what the Executioner tasted like. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. This sudden onslaught of hormones would take some getting used to.

  * * * *

  She wasn’t in the least what he expected of a cold-blooded killer. She certainly didn’t appear to be able to take care of an elder vampire like Demetri. But then again low-enders could be quite surprising. He shot a derisive look at the young male vampire, Jah. He smelled of drugs and sex, for a second he thought maybe he and the female…? But no, Jah smelled like another male. He couldn’t understand why he even bothered to make a connection. She meant nothing to him.

  Years of training taught him to show no emotion, however, he found it extremely fascinating to watch her shift forms. She was a talented shifter; she made no sounds of pain or discomfort most shifters made during the change. His breath caught in his throat at her final appearance. She was breathtaking, with dark brown skin that looked forever kissed by the sun. Long, straight black hair fell almost to her waist. Eyes slightly wide and almond-shaped and chestnut brown that made him think of satin sheets and dark rooms.

  Mentally, he shook his head—this was no way to start an investigation. Even with that self-reprimanding thought, his eyes momentarily strayed to her body, while not overly endowed it was perfect in its proportions. She looked like a handcrafted doll, made with the finest care.

  “Ms…” he began, cocking an eyebrow.

  “I have no last name. You know us low-enders. No class. No money. No last names,” she snorted at him. Hmm, feisty little creature despite the fact she was the fish hooked on the end of his pole. A rather lewd, but pleasant picture came to mind with that thought. It was by sheer habit he kept the smile from forming.

  “Mind if I call you Allantra then?” he questioned, loving the way her name rolled off his tongue. “Fine,” he continued, not waiting for her approval. “You were scented by our tracker as the last person seen with Demetri Buscan. Several of the bar… patrons,” he hesitated, “said they saw a young woman leave through the back door with him, that would be you, Allantra.” His senses went crazy as her scent suddenly ballooned around him. Seeming familiar, yet he would have remembered meeting this fire-for-blood creature.

  “And?” She barely looked at him, seeming more
interested in her scuffed shoes.

  “What reason would you have to kill Demetri Buscan?” he asked smoothly.

  He was rewarded with a sharp uptake of her head. “I didn’t kill him.” She ground her teeth at him. Her eyes flashed at him in challenge. Didn’t she know who he was? He lifted his hand and revealed the injector that had been confiscated from her. “We found this on you, did we not?” He bent his head to the side; really curious as to how she would defend herself. The guilty tended to get desperate.

  Even as the evidence piled up against the woman, his experience and gut were at odds with their meaning. As Executioner, the deliverer of justice, Khaelen was good at his job. The best because he made sure he was the best. He’d never been wrong. But she seemed to defy his authority. It was as if she was silently challenging him. The predator in him rose to the occasion. The man in him rose as well…

  “Maybe. If someone hasn’t switched it. Seems I’m being set up. Wouldn’t put it past you.” She licked her lips slowly as she accused him. His eyes tracked the small pink appendage until it disappeared behind that tempting if not sharp mouth.

  “You suspect me of framing you, little girl.” His head tilted back as he laughed deep in his throat. Now, that was a new one on him. He paused in his laughter and looked around at the drab apartment. It was much too small to conduct a proper investigation and she looked damned uncomfortable in that wobbly wicker chair. The renter of the drab property looked green, so to speak, no doubt coming down abruptly from whatever he’d been on. “Jah M’kiel, have you anything to say in your defense?” The small vampire looked up with slightly yellow-tinged eyes.

  How ironic, he thought, here this young vamp had been enhanced, no doubt to spot a cop a mile away, and yet he had an apartment full of them. Sure did get his money’s worth.

  “I don’t know anything.”

  “I’d be willing to back that up,” the girl said sarcastically.

  “Take them both down to the Quarter, separate rooms. I don’t know if they’ve had time to get their stories straight, but there’ll be no synchronizing on my time.”