Blood Drive

He sits up straight on the seat, one hand occupied while the other reaches across and starts the engine.

I can’t watch this anymore. I climb out and stand there while Darryl pulls out of the parking lot. He actually waves a jaunty hand at me, making me wonder how he’s steering. I’m scrubbing my own hand against my jeans with such friction I feel the palm burn.

Frey steps out of the driver’s side of the car and looks at me with a mixture of revulsion and disbelief.

You agreed to fuck that cretin?

I don’t know what surprises me more, that Frey heard the conversation in the car or that he uses the word “fuck.”

He snorts.I’m a jungle cat, remember? I have good hearing.

I push past him and get into the car.I have no intention of fucking Darryl. Ever. I just wanted to buy us some time.

Frey drops into the passenger seat and I hand him Darryl’s registration.Hold onto that. Darryl may think he knows where to find me, but I know where to find him now, too.

He shoves it into the glove box and snaps it closed.How do you know that guy?

Beso de le Muerte. I glance over at him.Do you know the place?

He shakes his head.You go there to feed? What’s the matter with you? Don’t you know that place has a bad reputation?

His condescending tone and disapproving expression are too much.And what would you have me do? I can’t pick up cans of Alpo at the pet store like some of us. I need blood, remember?

I don’t eat dog food,he replies archly.And I thought you had a human boyfriend. At least, I know you have a human you have sex with because I can smell it on you. Why don’t you feed from him like a normal vamp.

Like a normal vamp?This conversation would be ludicrous under any circumstances. But to have it now with a man I suspect may be a worse monster than any I’ve yet encountered sets my blood on fire. I’ve already wasted too much time. I want to find Trish and I want to find her now.

I reach over and grab Frey by the scruff of the neck. Snarling, I pull him from his seat and hold his head close to my mouth.

I wonder how feeding from a shapeshifter will be?

I feel his body stiffen, and his hands rise to ward me off. But before they can, I’m tearing at the collar of his shirt, exposing his neck, ripping through skin and cartilage with a ferocity that stuns him into immobility. Darryl awakened the thirst. It blazes within me. I find the artery, sink my teeth into it and drink. I will learn the truth about Daniel Frey.

Blood has interesting tastes and qualities that vary from species to species. Human blood tastes like a mineral supplement and warm saltwater, rudimentary. You get no feeling for the individual from human blood, not a good thing as I’m learning from my pal Darryl. Vampire blood, on the other hand, is more complex, like a fine wine. It’s full of the essence of the vampire’s life, all his history reduced to stark simplicity and there for the taking. When you drink from a vampire, you ingest what he is, or at least what he lets you think he is. I know now from Avery that it is possible to hide your true nature under the guise of love.

Daniel Frey is a different creature all together. His blood is acidic, sour, burning my throat as I drink. At first, I feel nothing except the rush of energy that flows from his life force into mine. I need more. I worry at his throat, sucking harder, ignoring his groans and hands that make a feeble attempt to push me away.

I open my mind to him.Tell me. What have you done to Trish?

His thoughts are muddled, lethargic.Idon’t understand. I showed you that she is safe.

A trick. I know about your past. I know about Boston.

I let him hear the conversation at the police station. There is a shift in his consciousness, an understanding of what I know to be true. And in the rush of his blood he allows me to see into his soul.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I let my head fall back onto the headrest and lick the blood from the corners of my mouth. My body tingles with the infusion of Frey’s blood. When I glance over at him, he is leaning back on his seat, too, and his hand is on his neck. From his expression, though, I don’t think he’s feeling quite the same things I am.

“Don’t worry,” I say, feeling a little sheepish. “I haven’t left a mark.”

For the first time, I notice the claws retracting as I watch. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

A brittle smile twists the corners of his own mouth but his eyes are cold. “Believe me, if you had kept at it a moment longer, I would have.” He tugs again at the torn collar of his shirt. “And it’s not my neck I’m thinking about. You’ve ruined my favorite Perry Ellis shirt.”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

There is a protracted silence which is finally broken when he swivels on the seat to face me. “Why didn’t you just ask me about Boston?”

I feel color flood my face. “I should have. I’m sorry.” I blow out a breath. “It just seemed too coincidental-the killings in Boston and now here.”

But before I voice any other concerns, I’m hit with a realization that sends shock waves rippling along my spine.

I’m not hearing Frey in my head anymore.What’shappening?

But he just sits there, an expression of anger, irritation and disappointment stamped on his face. Then the expression changes. “Oh, you get it now, huh? We can’t communicate that way anymore. You’ve ingested my blood. You’ve broken the link. Now we have to communicate this way. You are such a pain in the ass.”

“Broken the link? What does that mean?” I look down at my hands. “Jesus. Am I part shapeshifter now?”

“Don’t you think you should have asked that question before you attacked me?”

His tone is scalding. My face must betray the anxiety I’m feeling because he relents with an abrupt wave of his hand. “No. You are not part shapeshifter. Vampires only consume the essence of their supernatural victims, not the physical manifestations. But in some cases, like this one, it creates a barrier that prohibits thought transference. I don’t know why. It just happens.”

“Does that mean I won’t be able to communicate with all shapeshifters?” I’m thinking of Culebra now.

“No.” His look is pointed. “Only those you feed from.”

Is that a relief? I’m not sure. I crank the engine over and look around. I can’t believe I lost control so completely that I attacked Frey in the middle of a parking lot in broad daylight. Granted, it is a lower lot and we don’t seem to have attracted anyone’s attention, but it was a stupid thing to do.

I pull out and head back for the freeway. This time I make sure no one is following. In fact, I don’t take a direct route to Balboa Park, but a circuitous one. From the stadium, I take 15 to 8, get off at Rosecrans, switch to

Sports Arena Boulevard

, and take Nimitz south to

Harbor Drive

, Market to 6th. No one car is behind us the entire drive.

When I turn into the Park, Frey speaks for the first time since we left the stadium.

“I think you should let Trish stay here,” he says.

“You trust these people?”

He nods. “Yes. With my life.”

I’m approaching the parking lot in front of the museums that line the El Prado. As usual, there are no spaces right in front, and I have to wind my way down towards the organ pavilion to find a place to park. Once we do, I turn in the seat to face Frey.

“Who are these people you work with? What are they?”

“Humans, mostly.”

“Humans?”

He rolls his shoulders. “You’ll see. There are also shapeshifters, seers, vampires.” He raises an eyebrow. “You’ll no doubt recognize one in particular.”

“Because he’s a vampire?”

But Frey has opened the door and is standing with an impatient scowl beside the car. “Let’s go. I thought you were anxious to see Trish.”