Cat Adams - Blood Song

memory as I ran a finger over the grip. I tried to force it, but the more I tried to remember specifics, the

further it slipped away from me.

Frustrating.

Growling under my breath, I shoved the gun aside and turned my attention to the knife case. I flipped

open the lid and there they were, al cleaned, shiny, and oiled. The thorough care smacked of Kevin’s

work, but he couldn’t have touched the blades. They’re magical, and they were created specifical y to

kil monsters. Stil , whoever had cleaned them had done a fine job.

“You sssstil haven’t told me what’s wrong with me.” I kept my voice neutral as I asked Emma the

question. But it was Jones who answered.

“You are an abomination.”

“ Excusssse me?” I raised my brows, my voice bordering on insulted. He laughed. From the

expression on his face, it took him by surprise.

“I take it you don’t laugh much.”

“Not real y, no,” he admitted. The humor was gone as though wiped from a slate. He was talking

directly to me, as if Emma weren’t even there, but that didn’t seem to bother her. I would’ve been

pissed. “‘Abomination’ is the term used by the vampires for that smal group of persons who should

have died, or been turned, but instead survived with only partial physiological changes. They live, they

have a soul and possess their own memories, but have been altered significantly. Each person’s

physiology changes differently. We’re stil determining that with you.”

“I ssssee.” I did. I didn’t like it, but I definitely saw where he was going. I was now in possession of

more strength than the average bear, a lisp, and a pair of real y impressive fangs. What else had

changed? Would I be able to go out in daylight? Could I eat real food, or had I developed a taste for

blood? God, I hoped not. Even thinking about it was just so gross. “So you’re going to fol ow me around

and watch me? See what I do and what makes me tick? Is that a good idea?” I’d imagine that was a

pretty dangerous way to operate.

He shrugged. “When we’ve worked with abominations in the past, we normal y kept them under for a

ful month to weaken the tie to their sire.”

I didn’t ask who “we” were. I had a strong suspicion but didn’t real y want to know. Nor did I think he’d

tel me. Or maybe he would. Which might be worse.

“Did it work, and if so, why am I awake?” Or had it been a month? I probably should ask what month

and year it was. “How long have I been here, anyway?” I pul ed on a pair of elegant powder blue lace

panties and matching bra, then promptly covered them up with a serviceable navy sweat suit. I used a

covered rubber band to pul my hair into a ponytail at the back of my head. It felt about the same length

as it had this morning. Or whenever. I reminded myself, yet again, to find time for a haircut. Of course,

it occurred to me that my hair might not grow back … ever. Man, I’d better find a really good stylist if it

was going to wind up my last haircut.

“You’ve been here about six hours. It’s around ten A.M. And a month didn’t work perfectly. No.”

He didn’t elaborate, and his tone was absolutely neutral. Too neutral. Sometimes the absence of

something tel s me more than its presence. My guess would be that the mission he’d been referring to

went very bad, very quickly. It might even be the source of the scarring on his neck. Or not. I wouldn’t

ask. It was rude. Yes, since I apparently was an abomination I should probably find out as much as I

could; and I would … eventual y. But right now I needed to find out what had happened in the hours I’d

lost. Because I hadn’t just lost six hours. The last I remembered was getting ready to visit Vicki.

“Can you sense your sire?” Jones’s words brought me back to the situation at hand.

I thought about it. Nothing. There was no sorrow or rage or even happiness connected to the lack of

a connection. Just bland neutralness. “No. Is there a trick to doing it?”

“No. General y the connection’s just there.” He seemed genuinely puzzled and not particularly

pleased.

“That’s not terribly helpful, you know,” Emma said coldly. She wasn’t looking at him as she said it.

Instead, she was very careful y cleaning and putting away every bit of equipment they’d used. In

moments there would be no trace of my having been here at al . Except, of course, for the video

camera.

“Make sure they keep the film of my being brought in.”

“Why?” Emma sounded surprised.

I wanted to look at it, to see if the video prompted any memories. But that’s not what I said. “The

police may want proof that I didn’t leave the crime scene under my own steam.”

“No police.” Jones sounded as though he were scolding a particularly dim-witted child.

“Look, it’s fairly obvious I was attacked, and I wouldn’t have gone down without at least a few shots

having been fired. That gun on top isn’t even mine, so weapons were used. The police have bal istics

on most of my weapons from a couple of previous incidents. They’re going to match up the pieces

when they start digging through the scene. They know what I do for a living, so it isn’t usual y an issue.

It isn’t a crime to kil a vampire, but people are general y supposed to report that sort of thing.”

Jones shrugged. “Ah. A good, law-abiding citizen.” There was a hint of condescending amusement.

To my surprise, his tone didn’t irritate me. Probably because he was trying too hard. I do have a short

fuse, but I don’t like playing into people’s expectations. So I smiled and spoke sweetly. “It makes life

easier. I like easy.”

Emma gave me an odd look. She knows me wel enough to have expected me to put up more of a

fight. I saw her open her mouth as if to speak, then close it, compressing her lips tightly.

I looked from one of them to the other. “Here’s what I propose. I cal the police, arrange to come in

and make my statement.” Not that I could say much, with no memories of whatever had happened. But

I might be able to get some information. They might even do a memory enhancement for me. Or not.

That sort of thing was only used as a last resort—too traumatic to the witness. Besides, the courts

were split on whether or not the evidence obtained that way could be used because of proven cases of

mental manipulation. Stil , worth a shot.

“After that I go to Vicki, see what she knows, maybe see if she can help me track my sire’s daytime

hidey-hole. If that doesn’t work, we go back to wherever you found me and see if we can find any

clues.” If my sire was going to be stalking me with death or undeath in mind, I wanted to get the jump on

him. Preferably in ful daylight with as much specialized weaponry as I could carry. I’ve fought vamps.

I’ve kil ed them. But mostly they’ve been babies, new to the game. Vampires that are old enough to

actual y bring humans over are good. Scary good. They’ve got strength, magic, mind games, the works.

I was going to need every advantage I could get to get close enough to kil the bastard, before he kil ed

me. Vicki has a better than 99 percent accuracy rate. Odds are she either knew what was going on or

could find out. And it certainly wouldn’t hurt to try.

Emma nodded, which I expected since she knows Vicki nearly as wel as I do. But I hadn’t expected