Voltana & the Rogue Vamps (The Voltana Adventures Book 1) Page 4

  She rose violently from her seat, spilling a little of the dark red minestrone onto the crisp white tablecloth. The woman followed her to her feet, looking alarmed.

  “You don’t understand,” she said. “You can’t go back home. I have no idea who attacked you at the warehouse – but until I find out, your home isn’t safe. Someone might come for you there.”

  “Then let them come,” Andi practically shouted. “I’ll be ready.”

  With these words, she turned to storm off. She’d always been an action, reaction kind of person – and if there was ever any regret associated with her decisions, that came later. Much later.

  ***

  Blake heard the front door slam behind Andrea, and she sighed. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. She sometimes had a way of saying things that put people off. She was used to running a Fortune 500 company, and she didn’t really have time to sugar coat things or gloss around the truth. She just said what needed to be said, figuring that the other person should be adult enough to deal with it.

  But sometimes she forgot that a little more delicacy might, in certain situations, actually be warranted. Or deserved. Andrea De Luca had just been through a life-altering event, and no doubt she did deserve a little kindness. A little sympathy and understanding. Even while Blake meant to exude those qualities, she knew that she sometimes fell short.

  She sat thinking for a few minutes. She’d known that she couldn’t try to stop Andrea from leaving – what could she really have said? – but she also knew that she couldn’t let her go back to her own home. At first, she would have chalked up the vamp attack on Jack Street to nothing but a drug battle. After her conversation with Julius Hall, though, she wasn’t so sure.

  Blake had been downtown the night before, having heard from one of her sources in a bar on Flayer Street that there were junkie vampires robbing and murdering drug dealers. It wasn’t that she was overly protective of drug dealers, but she had been aware of the vampire community for years now, and she had an unofficial agreement with them to do her part to keep their existence a secret.

  Despite Julius’s opinion on the subject, she still had no idea if the vamp attack at Andrea’s friend’s warehouse was connected to the other murders Julius had mentioned. But, given the fact that Blake had killed the vamps at the warehouse, she didn’t think it was a good idea to take a chance on retaliation. No one knew that Blake was Voltana, but they knew who Andrea was, and if they’d done any scouting around at the city morgue, then they knew that she’d been the only one left alive at the warehouse. That made her a perfect target for revenge.

  But then – well, then Blake took a moment to wonder why she was even putting herself to all this trouble. She didn’t even know this young woman. This woman who was a gang member, a drug dealer, quite possibly a murderer. Should she be protecting her, or turning her in to the police?

  And yet, just the thought of it seemed wrong. Bringing Andrea De Luca to the police. Something told Blake that the young woman didn’t deserve it – and if there was one thing she’d learned after all these years in business, it was to trust her instincts.

  Still, Miss De Luca would be severely pissed if she ever found out how Blake planned on tracking her down. Before she’d gone out that morning, she’d left instructions with Albert to have a tracker embedded in Andrea’s boot. She’d had a slight foreboding something like this might happen, and now that it had, she was glad she’d had the tracker installed. But she was aware that it would probably be viewed as a breach of privacy.

  She didn’t have time to worry about that now, though. She took out her phone and opened an app, searching for the little red dot that was Andrea De Luca.

  She was headed south on King’s Bridge.

  ***

  Andi stomped angrily through the muggy, sticking night, beads of sweat rolling down into her bra to pool between her breasts. She wasn’t going to lie, it had been much more comfortable in Blake Turner’s air-conditioned house, but that bitch had made her rage. Who in the hell did she think she was, telling her what she could and couldn’t do? She needed a reality check. Nobody told Andi what she could and couldn’t do.

  Andi was on her way home. Luckily, she’d had the presence of mind earlier in the afternoon to put her cell phone back in her boot. The key to her apartment was in a little pocket on the back of the plastic case. She even had her knife in her other boot.

  She felt pretty tough, yeah. Pretty confident, sure. But then it all went to hell in a handbasket.

  She was on King’s Bridge when it happened, walking down the raised sidewalk next to four lanes of vehicles traveling in opposite directions. Headlights glared in her eyes occasionally, and considering that she was already in a foul mood, she took the opportunity to swear loudly and often. She heard the buzzing and whooshing of the passing cars, the clacking of her heels on the pavement.

  And then all the bridge lights went out. There was nothing but the dimmer gleam of the headlights, and car horns honking as drivers panicked at the sudden loss of illumination.

  Andi pressed herself against the bridge rail, worried that a car would drive right up onto the sidewalk and crush her. As it turned out, though, that was the least of her problems.

  Several shadowy figures dropped down around her on the sidewalk, their eyes glowing green in the darkness. And yes – they literally dropped right down into her midst, as if they were coming from the sky. But she highly doubted they were angels.

  “Miss De Luca?” one of them said in a deep, incredibly creepy voice. It wasn’t a question, really. More of a statement.

  “Who wants to know?” Andi barked. She wasn’t going to front, she was totally feigning bravery at this point. This whole thing was just too bizarre and unnerving to not be scared almost shitless, but she’d play along as best she could.

  “Mr. Jarvis wants to know,” the ominous voice replied plainly. “You appear to have a connection to someone he is very interested in. Therefore he’d like to speak with you.”

  “And what if I don’t want to speak with him?” Andi returned, trying to sound tough and flippant at the same time, but most likely failing miserably.

  Though it was too dark to see, Andi heard the smile in the mysterious figure’s voice. “Mr. Jarvis doesn’t care what you want,” he said simply.

  Andi knew there were at least two other shapes nearby, possibly three. One of them, another male, took hold of her arms and dragged her towards him. “Let’s go,” he said in a gruff voice.

  “Mr. Jarvis will be angry if we’re late,” a female voice added, her tone cold and clipped.

  Andi didn’t know what to do, so she did the only thing she could think of. She wrestled her right hand free with a supreme burst of strength, then shot it down into her boot to grab her blade. She switched it open, lashed out to free her left hand, heard the second male hiss in pain. Not missing a beat, she turned around and sprinted away as fast as she could.

  She wasn’t running for long, though. She’d hardly taken off, when one of the figures tackled her roughly to the ground. It was as if he could fly or something.

  She fell face-first onto the concrete, the wind completely knocked out of her. She felt the skin scrape raw from her elbows and the heels of her hands. The guy on top of her yanked her up on her feet with a violent motion, holding her by the back of her neck. It was extremely painful, to say the least.

  She had dropped her blade when she fell, and she had nothing left to defend herself with. Except for . . .

  Reacting more than thinking or planning, Andi pulled up her right leg, then drove the sharp heel of her boot forcefully into her assailant’s thigh. He yelped in pain and let go of her.

  Again, she was off like a shot. But again, she was impeded before she could get far. This time, the female figure ended up in front of her somehow, barring her way like a sturdy, compact freight train. She tossed out a hand and caught Andi in the chest, pushing the breath out of her as if it were a solid object,
causing her to cough and choke viciously. She wouldn’t have been at all surprised if she’d spit up some blood.

  The female figure took hold of Andi’s throat, lifting her effortlessly up off the ground. The harsh gleam of passing headlights caught her face, and Andi gasped. Her incisors were long and sharp, pressing against her lower lip. Of course. She was a fucking vampire.

  The woman’s grip on Andi’s throat grew tighter, and Andi was beginning to think that she might have forgotten about the scheduled meeting with Mr. Jarvis, because she was pretty sure that she was trying to kill her. She probably would have succeeded, too, if someone hadn’t arrived at precisely that moment to sweep Angry Vamp Lady right off her feet. And not in the romantic sense, either. No – the bitch got plowed down onto the concrete, her hand releasing Andi so that she dropped to the sidewalk like a fleshy rag doll.

  It was dark, at first, and Andi couldn’t see much of anything. But then, a light appeared. Well – two lights. There was a new figure standing before her, woman-shaped, and both her hands were glowing with what looked like white lightning. The light illuminated her whole body, which was clad in a skin-tight black suit. She had on a dark mask that covered her face.

  She reached down to take hold of the vampire woman by the throat, her hands blazing with that white flame. Lightning flashed in the jetty, murky sky overhead, and thunder boomed as if it were right on top of them.

  Before Andi’s very eyes, the flames of the mysterious woman’s hands ate away at the vamp’s neck – and after only a few seconds, her head fell to the sidewalk with a dull thump.

  The vamps behind Andi rushed at the black-clad woman, trampling Andi in the process. She threw her arms over her head to protect her face, trying to crawl towards the bridge rail, away from the storm of raging vampire feet.

  But the black-clad woman moved quickly, even more quickly than the vamps, pulling Andi out from beneath their feet and scooping her up to hold her tightly against her body. In less than the blink of an eye, they’d disappeared from the bridge, and the world was nothing but an endless panorama of swirling darkness.

  Chapter 5

  They came to a halt what seemed only an instant later in front of Blake Turner’s house. The place looked completely normal, and Andi might have been inclined to think that it really was just an ordinary evening – that was, if the black-clad woman with the mask hadn’t been standing right beside her, strange flashes of light crackling around her head.

  “What in the hell . . .?” Andi murmured, putting a hand to her forehead and breathing shallowly.

  “Are you all right?” the dark woman asked in a concerned tone.

  Andi stared at her. She thought she recognized her voice. But no – it couldn’t be . . .

  “It’s me,” the dark woman said without hesitation. “It’s Blake.”

  Andi stared at her in stupefaction. She knew who she was looking at, of course. Voltana – Shadow City’s mysterious superhero.

  For the past few years, Andi hadn’t really known what to make of this Voltana character. That’s what all the news stations called her, anyway. At first, she thought the woman was just someone the mayor had invented for publicity, but after a dozen or more daring exploits on the part of this “superhero,” Andi began to wonder if she might actually be real.

  And, apparently, she was real. She was standing right here.

  But she was also Blake Turner.

  Which meant . . . Blake must have been the one who came to Andi’s rescue last night on Jack Street. Andi had wondered how she’d ended up in Blake Turner’s house; she had wondered what the CEO of Biotech Industries could possibly have to do with what had happened at the warehouse. None of it had made sense.

  Now it did, and she felt foolish for not putting two and two together sooner. But, for real – who would have ever guessed that a superhero would bother saving a gang member from a junkie vampire, then put her up in their lavish fucking mansion?

  This was completely and totally nuts.

  “Maybe we should go inside,” Blake said, holding out a hand towards Andi. “Before someone sees me.”

  Andi looked at Blake’s hand for a moment before she took it. This whole thing was so surreal, she didn’t know what to make of it. But finally, she took the hand that was offered to her. She snatched it back almost immediately when a strong shock ran up her arm.

  “Sorry about that,” Blake said quickly. “Just a little residual electricity.”

  Andi didn’t answer, but she followed as Blake began to make her way quickly up the drive, around to the side entrance where the fragrant roses grew. Andi inhaled their scent: a moment of normalcy and clarity in the otherwise inexplicable deluge of chaos.

  Blake slid open the unlocked glass door, standing aside for Andi to pass by. The night was still sweltering, but Andi found that she was shivering. She suddenly recalled the stinging pain in her elbows and hands from scraping her skin against the concrete on the bridge, and she winced silently.

  “Are you okay?” Blake inquired from behind her.

  “You already asked me that,” Andi said, her voice a little snappish.

  “And you didn’t answer,” Blake returned, her tone growing firm.

  Andi spun around to face her, saw that she had removed the mask. Her honey-gold hair fell soft and curling around her face, over her shoulders. Her green eyes blazed bright in the soft light. For a moment, Andi’s resolve wavered, and she swallowed thickly.

  “What did you expect me to say?” she asked, her voice sounding much more docile than she’d intended it to. “I just got attacked by vampires – again. And then you show up with some weird white fire shooting out of your fucking hands? Definitely not on my list of top ten nights.”

  “Look,” Blake said, her tone softening. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to make sure you were all right. That you are all right.”

  “I’m fine,” Andi replied, pleased to hear that a little of the hostility was creeping back into her voice.

  Blake sighed heavily, obviously torn between trying to be gentle or snapping back at Andi. It looked like it required an immense amount of effort, but she finally opted for the former choice.

  “Your arms are covered in blood,” she said, looking at Andi’s wounds with soft eyes. “Let me help you clean them and wrap them in gauze.”

  Andi opened her mouth to protest, planning on arguing that she could handle it herself, but Blake held up a hand to maintain silence. “Just let me,” she said steadily, not allowing her voice to become authoritative, but also not leaving Andi an opening to push her aside.

  “Fine,” Andi said quietly.

  Blake nodded, then started in front to lead Andi through the house. Earlier in the day, Andi had used the bathroom attached to the guest room she’d slept in, but that wasn’t where Blake directed her now. She took Andi upstairs, then down the corridor that angled left. She entered a massive bedroom, switching on the light to illuminate its dark grandeur. The window hangings, carpeting and bedclothes were all of an ebony hue, and in her black outfit, she moved like an ink stain through that dusky gloom.

  “The bathroom’s right here,” she said, indicating an open door on the right-hand. She turned on the light inside, then gestured for Andi to walk in front of her.

  In order to do that, though, Andi had to pass right by her, practically brushing against the unnameable fabric of her suit. As she did this, her breath caught unexpectedly in her throat, and her heart began to beat faster. She was loath to admit it, but a fierce flame had taken hold of her cheeks, too.

  What in the hell? she thought furiously. I don’t blush, goddamn it.

  The lights weren’t bright, and Andi’s skin wasn’t exactly pale, so she couldn’t have said for sure whether Blake noticed the color in her cheeks. She certainly hoped that she didn’t.

  “Would you mind standing near the sink?” Blake asked politely. “The light’s brightest there.”

  Andi didn’t reply, she just went to stand where she was dir
ected. She leaned her butt against the cool white porcelain, holding her arms out in front of her, not really sure what to do with them. The dripping blood, cold from the air conditioning, was rolling down her skin, dropping onto the clothes she’d just bought earlier that day. Ah, well. They were so dark the blood probably wouldn’t even show.

  “Hold your arms up,” Blake said. “Against your chest.”

  Andi did as she asked, holding her hands just below her chin, the wounds on her arms facing Blake. She felt strangely vulnerable in this position.

  Blake took a white towel from a rack near the sink, then ran it under the tap to soak it through, wringing it out so that it was only moderately damp. She pressed it gently to Andi’s left arm, blotting the blood with a delicate touch.

  “Does that hurt?” she asked softly, looking up into Andi’s face.

  Andi’s breath caught again, and she was fairly certain that her heart skipped a beat. “No,” she murmured, though it was difficult to make her voice come.

  “Good,” Blake said. “The wounds aren’t too deep, so I don’t see the need to torture you by pouring alcohol on them. I’ll just put on a little antibiotic ointment before I wrap them.”

  She finished cleaning the cuts, then dropped the bloody towel into the sink. Andi stared at it for a moment, mildly shocked by the macabre nature of the sight: the previously pure white towel now stained irreparably scarlet.

  Blake opened the medicine cabinet and pulled down a tube of antibacterial cream with a roll of gauze. Pretty well-prepared for a high-ranking CEO who was probably hardly ever even home.

  Blake seemed to guess Andi’s thoughts, and she smiled. “I may be an office woman by day,” she explained, “but you forget my nighttime occupation.”

  Andi nodded in concession. “I hadn’t forgotten,” she said. “You’re still wearing the suit, after all.”