Samantha Young - Blood Past

Eden snapped her gaze back at Shona and the girl flinched under her regard. “What about you, Shona? It’s getting late; shouldn’t you be working your corner already?” Eden ignored the choked laughter from behind her and the expressionless Noah beside her as Shona bravely ( or foolishly ) sneered at her, “Whore jokes? How original.”

“Well, I like to stick with the classics.”

“You know, it’s no wonder McLeish has a problem with you. I thought his attitude was peculiar because you’re an Ankh, but you’re such an unbelievable brat I can see why he can’t stand you.” Eden tried not to let the comment affect her and was about to verbally bitch slap Shona when Noah stepped forward. “What are you talking about?”

Immediately Shona’s eyes widened, a tiny spark of fear glittering in their depths at Noah’s sudden interest. “Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

At his rumbling tone, Mark nudged his girlfriend to respond.

“Um,” Shona gulped. “I just overhead him telling my dad that he thought Eden was a problem.” Anxiety shot through Eden. Crap, was Councilman McLeish the betrayer? Please no. She glanced at Noah for his reaction and watched the tendons in his jaw flex. “The only problem I see right now is your lack of respect for the Princeps’ daughter.”

At the thickening tension, Mark coughed uncomfortably, his olive skin flushing dark with embarrassment. “Uh, we’re just here to see Drop Dead Zombie 2 .”

“Ehhh nooooo.” Shona spun on him, glaring. “ The Diary .”

“I thought-”

“Don’t think.” She threw her palm up to interrupt him. “Ugh, I need the bathroom. The air in here is messing up my hair. Get the tickets will you. And get me a Diet Coke, no ice. Diiieet. No ice. Also a little box of salted popcorn, not sweet like last time. It was sweet instead of salt and they gave me crap for trying to change it. Oh and make sure it’s fresh and hot. I don’t want any of that soggy rubbish.” With that she flounced off in search of the ladies room, leaving them all in stunned silence.

Eden quirked an eyebrow at the easy-going Mark. “Dude, your girlfriend is so far past high maintenance even the janitor quit.”

Dwight Carey was the kind of guy even an unconscionable son-of-a-bitch like Teagan despised. He was a Warrior of Neith who had worked for the Ankh Princeps for six years as part of his security team in his mansion in Weston. Teagan watched him pace nervously back and forth before him, sweat sliding down his pale face, his hands scrunching into his brown curls. Betraying someone as powerful as Cyrus was bound to make a man anxious.

“You got the money?” Dwight asked him, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and guilt.

Teagan took another drag of his cigarette and leaned back against the packing crates. He could tell his utter calm was making the Neith more nervous; it sprinkled his soul with a dash of salt and Teagan was enjoying the extra flavour. Flicking some ash, he glanced around the dark warehouse.

He’d come all the way to Boston for this information. So far Dwight had been feeding him the right info but Teagan needed to know his guilt hadn’t gotten the better of him. He nudged the briefcase at his feet forward along the dusty concrete floor. “It’s in there. You get it when I’m done grilling you.” Dwight suddenly stopped. “I got all the info you need man.” Teagan shrugged. “I’m just curious about a couple of things. Indulge me.”

“What kind of things?”

“No need to be nervous, Mr Carey… not if you’re telling me the truth.”

“I am.”

You better be. The flare of anger nudged at his hunger and it wrapped its hands around Teagan’s windpipe with its pleading. Take him, takehim now . “Why did you betray Cyrus to Cosmina Arcos.

To me?”

Dwight gulped. “Does it matter?”

Teagan smiled lazily, his grey eyes flashing in warning. “It always matters.” The traitor shifted on his feet, not quite able to meet Teagan’s gaze. “I need the money.”

“What, Cyrus of Persepolis only pays minimum wage?”

“No, I make alright money. I just… he’s so superior. They all are, the Ankh. Think they’re better than the Neith. They treat us like the poor effing cousin when we out-populate them thousands to one. They wouldn’t exist without us. Turning their nose up at us… piece of…” he trailed off, kicking at the floor in disgust like an eight year old denied a toy.

Teagan snorted and took another puff of his cigarette. He couldn’t believe it. “So… who was she?”

“What?” Dwight snapped.

“The Ankh bitch that turned you down?”

The Neith coloured and looked at the briefcase. “Valeria. She’ll cosy up to Cyrus and all those other uppity decrepit hasbeens but she-”

“Laughed in your face huh?” Teagan couldn’t help but chortle. Stupid son-of-a-bitch had actually thought he was in with a chance with Valeria of Corsica. Idiot deserved everything that was coming to him, betraying his kin over a woman who didn’t even want him. The confession, however, made Teagan feel better. As a man who had been spurned by the woman he loved, he understood how much possession it could take over your motivations. Dwight Carey was going to give him the correct information.

And he was going to die for it.

Putting the cigarette out, Teagan lowered himself to his haunches and unlocked the briefcase. He let it fall open so Dwight could see the million dollars in cash. The treacherous little creep’s eyes widened.

“That will get me the hell out of dodge once the Princeps finds out who leaked the info.” For a moment Teagan almost considered letting the Neith walk out of here with the money. Either way he’d die. Ryan had told Teagan all he ever needed to know about Cyrus. Dwight Carey could move to Timbuktu and Cyrus would still hunt him down and destroy him for his betrayal.

No! The hunger cried within. Mine. Take .

Nah, why lose a million bucks just to teach the little asshat a lesson. A lesson that Teagan himself was perfectly capable of teaching.

“So.” Teagan stood back up to face the Neith, eyeing him now as one would an opponent. Dwight was tall and wiry, but like all Neith he was pure muscle. He held himself like a man who knew how to take care of himself. Plus, he was one of Cyrus’ own security, which meant he was probably exceptionally well trained. The thought of it exhausted Teagan. He really couldn’t be bothered with an actual fist fight. He mused over the best way to take him out. “Where is my darling betrothed?” Dwight looked around them again to make sure they were completely alone. “Scotland. Edinburgh to be exact.” He took a few tentative steps forward and held out a piece of paper. “It’s got the address she’s staying at. She’s living near the Scottish Councilman and their training centre so the place is crawling with Neith. She’s Ankh now, Teagan. You better watch your back.” So Eden had changed. Well… it looked like he had some work to do. Rather than irritating him, Teagan felt a rush of anticipation at the thought of the job before him. He grinned and took the piece of paper from Dwight, double checking the address before tucking it into his pants’ pocket. “Are you displaying concern?”

Teagan laughed as Dwight gulped, as if remembering whom he was dealing with. “Can I get my money now?” The Neith gestured to the briefcase.

“Of course.” Teagan dropped back down to the case and stuck his hand furtively under the bills to grasp a hold of cold metal. In a blurry flick of movement he spun around and launched a blade straight into the Neith’s chest. Dwight’s mouth fell open, a small whisper of pain escaping as his knees buckled beneath him. As blood spread quickly over his shirt from his punctured heart, Teagan strolled over to him.