Bloodlust (Frailty Book 2) Read online

  Frustrated, she replied, “I had to go by the department and make an appearance. We’re not going to be able to go about our business if anyone suspects something suspicious is going on. Plus I picked up some stuff. Now, what are you doing?”

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t bite him,” the teen said tersely. “Like I said, it’s the demon. He’s losing control.”

  “And I guess you’re doing some absurd ritual to stop it?” Laura responded sarcastically.

  “Of course,” Constance said curtly.

  “Look,” Laura stated sternly, opening the cloth travel bag she had been crushing under her exasperated grip, “I brought something that might help.” Pulling out a crucifix, she hurriedly tossed it over onto the bed.

  Roofy groaned before laboring to mutter, “It will not help. Remember what I said about the church...Father Philippe…”

  So much for spirituality. Not that she was even close to being Mother Theresa but after the events at the old Tredegar Works Laura figured trying something religious could not hurt. I’m sure it helps if you actually have faith.

  The situation was deteriorating quickly, though. Something had to be done fast.

  Roofy grabbed at his head and wrenched around on the bed.

  “Do you want me to help him or not?” Constance asked demandingly.

  “What can you do?” Laura reflected back.

  Grinning wryly, the teen slipped a razor-sharp nail over the upper part of her nipple, cutting easily through the skin and releasing a flow of garnet colored fluid.

  Laura flinched. The teen’s gaze went unchanged.

  “How is breast-feeding him blood going to help?” Laura charged.

  The teen’s gaze did not waver. “The demon can’t tolerate the life force of my kind…what I’ve become; a superior form of human; better than you.”

  “How do you know this?” Laura asked, exasperated further and not even remotely interested in engaging the teen on the subject of how high her opinion was of herself and her new form.

  “You were there. You saw what happened when Ambrose shoved his arm into Apocalypse’s mouth. You know I’m right,” Constance responded resolutely. Her gaze did not flinch.

  Bellowing in agony, Roofy clutched himself, his wrestling outfit drenched in the sweat of his strain.

  “Or would you like to face what is coming?” Constance asked.

  Trapped. Laura felt trapped. What choice did she really have? Watching Roofy suffer was ripping her heart out, but letting the demented teen have her way with him was sick.

  Then there was Apocalypse. Flashes of the fear and soul damning dread she had felt were terrifying, and the emotional wounds were far too fresh. She had to admit that she was powerless in the situation.

  Control. That is what it was, and Laura was sure of it. The look the girl was giving her. It was control.

  The detective thought back to having been just a trigger pull away from ending Constance’s life. Any shame and guilt she had felt for failing to save the teen had totally faded. As far as Laura was concerned, the person that was Constance Kysta had truly died. No, perished is a better description.

  What sat before her in the form of that girl was the true demon. If it was control that Constance wanted, Laura would give it to her. If it meant keeping Roofy safe and Apocalypse at bay, Laura would give it to her. At least, the appearance of it, Laura plotted.

  “Fine,” Laura said. “Do it.”

  Methodically, Constance placed a hand under Roofy’s head and guided his mouth towards her breast, slipping her bleeding nipple into his mouth.

  Constance’s gaze did not waver.

  Frantically, Roofy sucked and gasped for the red fluid, taking in as much as he could at one time.

  The gaze from the girl did not change. Resolute, no matter how disgusted, Laura held her stare locked on the teen. She would stand her ground.

  After what felt like forever to the detective, the big Russian pulled away, his body sluggish but eased and breathing steady.

  Laura hurried to his side, grabbing some tissues to wipe the blood from around his mouth before helping the man to a standing position. “Better?”

  “Da,” Roofy said, rubbing his head. “The demon is quiet. I feel as though a truck has hit me, though.”

  The smile the Russian struggled to display made her feel relieved, even if temporarily.

  “I brought you some clean clothes. Why don’t you get a shower and change? You’ll feel better,” Laura said, directing him towards the bathroom.

  Waiting until the door closed behind him, Laura turned back to the teen, who sat in her same spot on the bed rubbing her nipple playfully. Her gaze had not wavered.

  “You’re welcome,” the teen said, her words laced with contempt.

  Grabbing another handful of clothing from the bag, Laura tossed the bundle at the teen. “Put some damn clothes on.”

  A giggle came from the girl as Laura turned her back on her and did an inventory check on the remaining items in the bag. “And you are absolutely sure that Ambrose will be going to Las Vegas?”

  “Yes,” Constance answered from behind her.

  “How are you so sure?” Laura asked.

  “He told me,” Constance answered flatly.

  “He what?” Laura asked turning around in surprise, only to catch a full view of the teen stripped naked and looking over the outfit the detective had bought for her.

  “He told me,” the girl repeated.

  “Really?” Laura asked curtly.

  “Yes. Why would I lie?” Constance replied.

  “No. I mean you standing there naked. You could have waited until the bathroom was available or something,” Laura stated.

  “Like what you see?” the teen replied, posing.

  Laura turned back around. “As you were saying about Ambrose.”

  “Your loss,” Constance said.

  “Ambrose?” Laura repeated.

  “We spoke. It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry, I want him gone just as badly as you do,” the teen finally answered.

  Something landed and draped itself over Laura’s shoulder. Looking over to see the red and purplish/blue color scheme, she instantly recognized it as the Amazing Woman costume Constance had been wearing, but it was unclear as to whether the girl was being sassy or if the move was a nod towards Laura’s promiscuous history, which she was sure Wes Richert would have divulged.

  As if trust was not already a questionable factor, given that possibility, knowing the teen had been in contact with Ambrose only complicated things more. As if it could get any worse.

  “You could have mentioned that before,” Laura stated firmly.

  Ignoring her comment, Constance continued, “His pack is in Vegas. He knows now he cannot kill Roofy alone, so he’ll go back there to lick his wounds and rally the troops.”

  Turning back around, Laura tossed the garment onto the bed behind Constance. “Look, despite your feelings towards me, we are going to all have to work together if we’re going to bring Ambrose down, keep Roofy under control, and survive this whole ordeal. How about we bury the hatchet and agree to cooperate, especially for Roofy’s sake?” At least until I figure out what to do about you. Laura hoped her delivery was convincing enough to keep the Kysta girl from anticipating her true intentions.

  At least she was not naked anymore, which Laura took as victory. Although, the bra and panties the teen was wearing left little to the imagination. Okay, a small victory.

  “For Roofy,” Constance answered back, her eyes as empty as the feeling Laura got from her gesture.

  “You are talking about me, I think,” Roofy said as he exited the bathroom in a t-shirt and boxers, the build-up of evaporated moisture pouring out as he went.

  “There isn’t another subject worth talking about,” Constance said with a smile as she hugged the giant man. “I’m so glad you are okay.”

  Laura did not even try to hide the eye roll she gave in response. “We’ll take this bed. That one is
yours,” she said to the teen, opting to sleep in her blouse and skirt when they turned in for the night. “We’re all going to need our rest, so I suggest we hit the sack fairly soon.”

  “If I get scared in the middle of the night, can I crawl into bed with you two?” Constance asked as she turned off the light nearest her.

  It’s going to be a very, very long trip. Pulling a small bottle from the cloth bag, Laura sat down at the one small desk the room provided and proceeded to begin painting her nails a deep cherry red. Game on.

  End

  Epilogue

  Constance entered the hotel room, rolling a travel bag in tow, as Laura turned off her phone and put it back in its belt holder.

  “Who you talking to?” the teen asked.

  “Where have you been?” Laura shot back, doing little to conceal her temper. “We were supposed to be on the road already.”

  “I will be outside waiting,” Roofy said, walking sheepishly between the two females and making it clear he wanted nothing to do with the verbal skirmish that was unfolding.

  “I had to get some of my things,” Constance answered, holding up the floral print case. “You didn’t expect me to travel in this mess did you?” To emphasize her point, she pulled at the shirt the detective had given her.

  “You went back to your parents’ house? Are you crazy? There are police still watching that place. What if you had been caught?” Laura scolded.

  Constance almost giggled. She could not describe the pleasure she got from making Laura flustered. “You didn’t catch me.”

  “Fine. Whatever,” Laura said, waving a hand dismissively. “Just get changed so we can go. Oh, and use the damn bathroom this time.”

  “I intend to,” the teen said as she headed off across the room, a bounce in her step.

  Locked safely inside, she opened the bag and picked out an outfit. Setting it on the toilet seat, she then retrieved a small object bound in a towel. Unfolding the wrappings, she removed the small stuffed rabbit, one eye missing and replaced with an x, and hugged it tightly.

  “I told you I would get you back.”