Blood Descendants (Vengeance and Venom #1)

Chapter 12

I dig through Ophelia’s social media profiles. Every single account she has, even the secret spam ones. When you know someone well enough, it isn’t hard to find what they try to keep private. Not that she’s keeping anything particularly interesting a secret. But there are no posts since she went missing.

I make a call to her landlord. He hasn’t seen Ophelia, and he lets me know that she has two weeks to get caught up on her past due rent, or she’ll be evicted.

I use the credit card Ares gave me to pay for her rent. It just about kills me, the guilt eating me alive. But I vow to pay him back for it. Taking this time off work is making a massive hit on my bank account, but it won’t be that way for forever.

I call Ophelia’s job at the law firm, and the secretary is the only one I get ahold of. He hasn’t seen Ophelia in weeks either, and she didn’t give them any notice that she was leaving. She’s already been replaced at work.

Her email address isn’t all that difficult to break into. Pissoff111! is her password, one I’ve seen her enter before. There’s nothing out of the ordinary, and she hasn’t sent any emails since she disappeared.

Lastly, I call the police department, where I filed the missing person’s report. I’m put on hold for two minutes while they connect me with the assigned detective.

“You calling about Miss Ophelia Bennett?” a gruff man with an older sounding voice finally connects.

“Yes,” I answer desperately. “I was wondering if there were any new leads on her?”

“Not much, but we finally got the footage from the bank across the street from where you said she was last known to be,” he answers, which shocks the hell out of me. After so many dead ends today, to have something, anything, is the world. “She did go into that building around eleven-thirty, alone. The footage is kind of grainy, and there was only one window that wasn’t blocked, so I couldn’t get any footage of her inside. But I watched the footage for twenty-four hours forward from when she entered. Miss Bennett didn’t walk out. At least out the front door.”

“Is there a back exit to the building?” I ask, feeling desperate.

“I haven’t gotten ahold of the owner of the facility yet to go in and investigate that. I can call you back as soon as I get an answer.”

“Do you know who owns the space?” I ask, reaching across the kitchen island for a pen laying there and the golden envelope from the ball invitation.

“Eh,” he draws out, and I hear the tapping of a keyboard. “Looks like Wind Up Properties Enterprise. ”

“You happen to have a phone number?” I ask, my heart beating very fast.

“Good luck,” he says after he rattles it off. “Usually, you leave voicemails stating you’re with the police department, you get a pretty quick callback, but not this one.”

“Thank you so much,” I say, feeling hope surging for the first time. It’s something. The first something I’ve got. “Please, call me as soon as you find out anything else.”

“I will,” he promises, sounding more caring than I’d expect. “I’m glad Miss Bennett has someone like you who cares about her. Too many people just drop off the face of the planet with no one to go looking for them.”

“That’s what best friends do,” I reply. The detective gives an affirming noise and ends the call.

Just as I lay my phone on the counter, the front door opens, which makes me jump about three inches in my seat, and my heart takes up residence at the base of my throat.

“Everything okay?” Ares asks as he walks in. His motorcycle helmet is tucked under his arm and, as he walks in, he sets it on the island.

“I got ahold of the detective that’s working Ophelia’s case,” I say, an unsure smile trying to crack on my lips. I relay the information I just received. “Now I know she didn’t leave the space the way she came in. And that’s not normal.”

“No,” Ares agrees as he lays his hands on the countertop. “It’s not. You don’t leave out a back door for no innocuous reason.”

I shake my head. “But at least I also know she wasn’t carried out the front door in a body bag either,” I say, hating the formation of the words but relieved by them. “Are you familiar with Wind Up Properties? ”

“The name sounds familiar, but that only means they’re not a particularly heavy player in the city,” Ares says. Which tells me he is quite familiar with all the heavy hitters in New York City. “We could do a walk by. And I happen to be very good at getting through locked doors.”

I arch an eyebrow at him. But at the look in his eyes, he knows as well as I do that we might not ever hear back from the detective that he’s been granted access to see if there’s a back exit.

“Let’s do it,” I say. And a familiar darkness creeps into my chest. One that feels a little reckless. A little dangerous. A little like the fuck it version of myself I was as a traumatized teenager.

Ares nods. “I’ve been invited to a meeting tonight. We’ll go by on the way to that.”

“What kind of meeting?” I question, my brows furrowed.

“One Augustus invited me to,” Ares says, his tone darkening in depth. “One with other prominent vampires in the city.”

“Oh shit,” I say, my brows rising. “Is that what it meant by the New York City Barons?”

“That’s what I’m starting to wonder,” Ares agrees. “But in my digging, I haven’t found anything online about what that means or who these people are. No surprise there. It’s not the best idea for vampires to have an online footprint.”

Which seems to remind him. Ares crosses to the fridge. And there, at the back, is a box. From that box, he removes what I realize is a bag of donated blood.

The sight of it makes my stomach turn, and I look away just before Ares bites into it. There’s the sound of gulping as he drains it .

My eyes squeeze closed. I can never forget the reality of what Ares is. Of what it means.

Blood. It means he drinks blood. Human blood.

It’s all too easy to forget that vampire isn’t an arbitrary term. That Ares doesn’t just look like a bad boy. He literally has fangs and inhuman strength, wicked speed.

Ares is exceptionally dangerous.

I can’t ever forget that.

“I…” my voice shakes as I try to vocalize the question burning my chest right now. “I’ve seen other vampires feed directly from people. But you just grabbed that like it was a Capri Sun. Do you…”

“I rarely feed from a live person,” Ares says. As I look into his eyes, I think he doesn’t like me asking about this, though he doesn’t seem upset about it. “I’ve seen some pretty shitty behavior from other vampires. I just don’t want to be one of the assholes. So, I’ve been getting a bagged supply since I got back into the city.”

I nod, my eyes falling away. At least he’s a vampire with a conscience.

I hear the sound of something dropping into the trash and look up. Ares closes the cabinet that hides the trash and turns back around, his expression gathered, calm, focused. “I want you at that meeting.” It takes my brain a second to remember what we’d been talking about before I asked the uncomfortable question. “You’re smart, Vengeance. Between the two of us, I know we can glean something we can use.”

His compliments warm my chest. Even if the thought of being in a room with powerful vampires makes me squirm. “You think they’ll let me in the room? This doesn’t exactly sound like a meeting they let little human women in on. ”

He lifts his chin. “You’re Lana fucking Kincade, remember? There isn’t a chair at any table in this city you don’t belong at.”

Shit. The things this man does for my confidence. For my feelings of self-worth. I’ve always been the poor girl who lived in a dumpy apartment and then the tiny little space above the sweaty smelling gym. The girl with the angry attitude and the grief trauma. The one who struggled to make ends meet. The one who had nothing and nobody.

But Ares Hunt, billionaire, businessman, the tattooed bad boy with the body of a god, tells me I am heir of the city.

“Okay,” I agree, trying to absorb his confidence through osmosis. “How soon should we leave?”

“As soon as you’re ready,” he answers. “We just need a quick outfit change.” With a smirk, he steps around the island and heads toward our bedroom.

Twenty minutes later, I’m dressed in these incredible, flowy black pants and a white top that is very nearly just a corset. I pull my hair up into a sexy but powerful updo. I don a pair of red heels.

But the moment Ares steps out of the closet, my heart stops. No, utterly disappears from my chest.

I’ve never seen Ares wear anything but casual clothes. T-shirts, jackets, jeans, the like.

Ares in an all-black suit will be my undoing.

Ares in a suit perfectly tailored to fit his god-like body will be the death of me.

“Like what you see, Vengeance?” his voice is a purr.

“Oh shit.” I didn’t mean the words to come out, but the very pleased look on Ares’ face tells me they escaped.

“Right back at you, kitten,” he says as he walks by me, pausing just slightly, his lips only a breath from the shell of my ear.

My entire body breaks out in goosebumps.

Twenty minutes later, Billings stops the SUV half a block down the street. From here, Ares and I get out and walk. It’s not exactly quiet, but New York City never is. But it is eleven-thirty on a Wednesday. There’s at least not hordes of people out.

“This is it,” I say as my eyes lock in on the doors. There’s nothing exceptional about this place. It’s an old building, but I wouldn’t call it particularly charming. There’s an old wood door that isn’t necessarily classic. There’s one window that faces the street, but it’s small and kind of dingy. Considering the lights are off, it’s safe to say there are no events happening right now.

Ares walks straight to the door and tests it. Of course, it’s locked. But he pulls a set of tools from his pocket, and in literally no more than two seconds, he swings the door open.

“I don’t know why I kind of just expected you to just bust off the doorknob or something,” I admit, keeping my voice quiet as I follow Ares inside.

“Signs of breaking and entering don’t do anyone any good,” he says as he looks around. I can’t really see anything, the space is too dark. But Ares strides in, confident, knowing the exact direction he’s headed. So, putting my hands out in front of me while my eyes try to adjust, I cautiously step forward.

“There’s nothing special about this place,” Ares says somewhere in the dark. “Just like the place we met. Bar. Lounging. Bathroom. Augustus owns a hundred places that are better than this. So why the hell is he renting a place like this? ”

It’s questionable to the thousandth degree.

Finally, my eyes start to adjust to the nearly non-existent light. He’s right. There’s a bar. There are five different couches set up throughout the space, a handful of other chairs. There’s a disco ball hanging from the ceiling. I see a clearly marked sign for a bathroom.

“Back door,” I point out, even as Ares takes a step toward it. I glance over my shoulder, checking we’re not about to get caught. But the door remains shut, and the voices outside pass by without hesitating here.

Ares pushes that door open, which reveals an even darker hallway. Ares reaches a hand back, and I take it, knowing I’m about to be blind.

“There’s a step down here,” he guides me in the dark.

Totally blind, I sweep my foot over the ground until I find the step, probably looking like an idiot to a vampire who can see in the dark. But I find level ground, and Ares sets out like it’s noon outside.

“It’s a hallway,” he tells me. “Three other doors so far. One for the restaurant next door. Others are open, just offices. I can smell outside air down this way, though.”

“So, there is a back exit,” I conclude, though truthfully, it was the only obvious answer. And sure enough, just a few seconds later, a door squeals as Ares pushes it open. Light meets my eyes once more.

We step out into the back alleyway. It’s a long one, servicing all the buildings that surround us. There’s a dumpster just to our right, but besides that, there’s nothing out of the ordinary out here, save for the homeless man sitting at the entry of it, a dog sleeping at his feet.

“It would be plenty easy to take someone out this way. You just walk right out onto the street,” Ares says as he takes it all in.

“Or load them up into your car,” I point out. “You could easily drive a whole truck up into here.”

Ares makes an affirmative noise. “I found some statements for the rental. Augustus only rented this place once. It’s the same case with the others. Only once, never the same place twice.”

“What about future Red parties?” I ask. “Has he put down any deposits on any other places?”

“Not that I can tell, but it’s got to be in the works,” Ares says as he guides me back into the dark hallway, and we pull the door closed behind us. “He’s been putting them on on a pretty consistent basis for over a year now. Every two to three weeks.”

“It’s got to be any day now,” I point out as I follow blindly behind Ares. “This weekend will be three weeks since the one we met at.”

“I’m guessing the Baron’s ball put it off,” Ares points out.

“So, it’s got to be next week,” I say as Ares guides me up over that step again, and we walk back into the rental space.

“Seems likely, but never count Augustus as predictable,” he says, closing the back door behind us.

“Never,” I agree, even though I’ve only met the man once. A man who propositions his son’s fiancée after dinner isn’t a man you can predict the actions of.

“Come on,” Ares says as I see his silhouette cross back to the main door. “We need to get going. We can’t be late to that meeting.”

Nodding, I follow after him. He opens the door and confidently strides out, which is smart. Act like you belong, and no one will question it. I walk out after him, and Ares locks the door once more and pulls it closed.

We climb back into the SUV, and Billings merges back into the light traffic.

“I don’t know what it really helps, but at least now I know Ophelia left out the back,” I say, mulling it all over.

“It’s something,” Ares agrees. He reaches across and takes my hand. My eyes rise up to meet his hazel ones. “We’ll figure out what happened to her.”

He doesn’t promise we’ll find her. I swallow hard. Because I know the likely outcome, logically. My gut has been trying to tell me for a while now. So, Ares doesn’t make promises he can’t keep.

But I see it in his eyes. He means it. He will help me find out what happened to her.

We roll through the night, and at just ten minutes to midnight, we pull into a parking garage. Not wasting any time, Ares guides me to the elevators. We step inside, and he presses the button for the seventy-ninth floor. It’s a silent, anxious ride up. And I find myself wondering how the hell I ended up here. Just a few weeks ago, I was teaching self-defense classes and eating microwave mac and cheese by myself in my bedroom. And now I’m about to walk into a room filled with rich, dangerous vampires who run this city after dark.

And the man standing beside me, the one that’s covered in tattoos, the one who looks like he runs an illegal casino and will break fingers if you don’t pay him what he’s owed, the one who is smooth, and calm, and supportive, he slips his hand into mine, interlacing our fingers once we slide past the seventieth floor. He brushes his thumb over my knuckles, a soothing action.

This is your life , Lana, I tell myself. Fake it if you have to. But don’t let them think you’re weak.

I raise my chin as the elevator dings and the doors slide open.

Side by side, Ares and I step out. There’s an open lobby, but there’s nowhere else to go but straight to the giant double glass doors ahead. There’s no signage, no names on the door. It’s the kind of space that says if you don’t know exactly where you’re going, you’re not meant to be here.

Ares pulls the door open, and I walk through. My grip tightens on his by the second, but he doesn’t even flinch.

It’s a huge room, filled with modern, shiny tables and black and silver chairs. Everything is polished, cleaned, and dusted to perfection. I’d almost guess this was some kind of high-end club. There’s a gleaming bar at the back of the space. And all around the entire area are floor-to-ceiling windows, granting us a gorgeous night view of New York.

Near the windows, in the center of the space, an area has been cleared, and a dozen chairs are circled up. There are five men sitting there, talking amongst themselves, including Augustus.

Ares’ father looks up, and immediately, his eyes go to me. They narrow, and I’m sure he’s recalling our last encounter with my nails digging into his scrotum. And from the lack of other women here, I’d guess my presence isn’t welcome due to the fact that I own a vagina.

“This is a closed meeting, son,” Augustus says. He spreads his arms wide on the chair. Leaned back, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, he’s the picture of collected and calm. But the tension in his shoulders gives him away.

“Marriage means equality,” Ares says as he walks us into the circle of chairs. He guides me down into one before taking the seat right next to me. I note he’s placed me as far from his father as possible. He takes my hand once more, the action extremely deliberate. “It means truth and trust. I don’t keep anything from Lana. I don’t make decisions without her. So, my presence here means her presence as well.”

“This isn’t how we do things, Augustus,” a man growls. He’s older than Augustus and kind of an ugly man. His nose is bulbous, his hair a bit greasy and slicked back. He wears a tacky suit like he’s trying to look like a mobster.

“Time has shown us that evolution is essential to survival,” Ares says, his tone low and dangerous as he levels the man with a look. “Even immortals could stand to learn this. My fiancée stays.”

The doors to the space swing open and in walks another man. His eyes immediately flick to me, but he doesn’t seem threatened by my presence. Not like the others.

“It’s your risk to take, my son,” Augustus says. He steeples his fingers before him, his gaze fixed on me. “Every piece of information you share with this human woman, one who won’t be one of us someday, puts her in more danger. You do realize what must happen to her should the two of you break up?”

Ice washes over my skin at his words.

“None of us have to worry about that,” Ares says as he brings my hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to my knuckles. “Besides, you wouldn’t hurt the mother of your unborn grandchildren, would you?”

At this, Augustus’ eyes widen. “Does that mean…?”

“I’m late,” I say with a shrug. “But there are two more days until I can take a test. ”

Shit. My acting skills have their limits. I’m already pretending to be Ares’ fiancée, I’m not sure I’m up to pretending to be pregnant as well.

This softens the look in Augustus’ eyes. And it makes me sick. I feel like a breeding cow. Produce babies, and you’re valuable. Don’t, and you’re nothing but scrap meet.

“It’s your risk to take, son,” Augustus says with a shrug. “Just don’t doubt the outcome if things end.”

“I heard you,” Ares says, his tone hard. His hold on my hand tightens. He does not agree to Augustus’ terms, though, I don’t miss that.

“Let’s begin then,” Augustus moves on. “I’d like to introduce you all to my son, Ares Hunt. We’ve recently been reunited. While he might be a bit emotion driven, he’s an impressive businessman and knows this city. Ares, let me introduce you to the New York City Barons.”

Shit. This sounds so formal, so sinister. Vampiric Barons who run the city.

“Giovanni Bosco,” Augustus introduces the ugly man who spoke up earlier. “Cliff Morgan,” he indicates the next man. He’s younger, probably around Ares’ age. His hair is blond and done in the most anal way. He’s handsome in a nerdy, uptight way. Preppy, rich boy vibes radiate off him without him saying a word. “Sysco Sullivan.” The man sports a buzz cut. His thin mustache and the all black clothing he wears make him look like he should run in Ares’ crowd if we were going by looks alone. I wouldn’t want to mess with Sysco. “And Harry Kim.” The man who came in after us. He looks around thirty. Black hair and clear skin, he wears a clean, crisp suit. He looks too innocent and normal to be in this room with this crowd .

“Nice to meet you all,” Ares says with the dip of his head. “This is my fiancée, Lana.”

“I can tell you all you don’t have anything to worry about with me here,” I say, trying to establish my own presence. To assume my character. “This isn’t the first time my life has been threatened by a rich bully.”

I look over at Augustus, crooking a little smile at the memory of the noise he made when I nearly brought him to his knees.

This brings a little snigger of entertainment from Sysco and Giovanni. “You’ll have your hands full with this one as your daughter-in-law, Augustus,” Sysco says.

“Let’s all hope she doesn’t go the way of Natalia,” said father-in-law says darkly.

And I can’t help but wonder what happened to Natalia because Sysco immediately shuts up.

“Are we here to talk shit or to bring in another Baron?” Harry speaks up, breaking up the constant banter and snark. He folds his hands over his lap, his expression collected and cool. “If you trust your son to come into the circle, Augustus, then you ought to trust his fiancée. The line of trust is a trickle effect. If this is personal, handle it when you don’t have to waste everyone else’s time.”

I think I just might like Harry Kim.

“The Barons organized twenty-one years ago,” Augustus says, finally getting to something useful instead of giving Ares and me shit. “New York used to be run by the Steele family, but after their demise, it left a hole, a void to be filled.”

“I’ve never heard of this Steele family,” Ares says, though he doesn’t sound desperate for the information. He’s playing it extremely cool and collected .

“There were four brothers,” Sysco speaks up. “They ran this city for two damn centuries.”

Now we’re talking. I hear these vampires are supposed to be immortal, but no one has seemed to be older than fifty or so years. Two centuries… that sounds more like what I expected.

“They had a lot of children,” Cliff speaks for the first time. “Overall, there was something like forty cousins. And they kept New York in check.”

“Most of them were arrogant assholes,” Sysco takes the conversation back over. “But they kept the city out of trouble. But then one of the uncles went crazy. Slaughtered the whole family in one night.”

“Went crazy?” Ares says, his tone questioning. My brows furrow because it couldn’t have been so simple.

Giovanni nods. “No one knows what really happened, but yes. The man just started working his way through the city, killing his family members one at a time. I think he must have taken himself out in the process, because he was found in the slaughter a day later.”

“Crazy,” Sysco punctuates, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head a little.

“The sudden elimination of the Steele family left a void,” Augustus says, trying to reign back in the story. “Large numbers of vampires left unchecked leave all of us in danger. But some of us, we had a vision for… more.”

And here it is. What the reason for all of this is. What Augustus wants.

“New York has always been full of opportunity,” Augustus continues. “As the city that never sleeps, it’s the perfect place for a strong vampiric hold. Yet our numbers are not high. Nothing like Seattle. Nothing like Chicago. And it’s not just about numbers.”

“Influence is power,” Giovanni says. He leans back in his seat, rubbing his hands together. “The nation believes the government has the most influence on the general population. Yet there is influence from all kinds of different organizations, different families, different systems.”

“The Barons have been acquiring significant land holdings in New York for the past twenty years,” Augustus takes the conversation once more. “When you own such a significant portion, you have… sway.”

“I’ll own twenty percent of Harlem in the next ten years,” Sysco says with a barely surpassed smirk. “Not to mention how many of the docks I’ve already acquired.”

Shit. That’s wild. Looking at him, one would never guess Sysco had that kind of money, or drive. But as I’ve learned from Ares, never judge a book by its cover.

“My family already owned ten percent of Morningside Heights,” Cliff speaks up. And, of course, he’s old money. Even his stupid haircut screams it. “I’ve already acquired another five percent in the past two years. My next focus is in the Clinton area.”

So. Much. Damn. Wealth.

“What is this?” Harry asks, dark annoyance starting to creep into his tone. “A bragging session? If you want to swing your dicks, you’ve got the wrong crowd. If you want approval for your son to be made a Baron, Augustus, you’ve got it. I’ve already looked up Ares’ portfolio. He’s accomplished more in ten years than any of the rest of us, and he was totally inactive for three of those years. I don’t buy into the breeding program like the rest of you, but he’s obviously going in the direction you want him.” Harry indicates me, and those future grandbabies. “I have other shit to attend to. Are we voting tonight?”

“He’s got my vote,” Sysco says. And there’s something a little feral about his smile, a little manic. He’s a wild card, one to keep an eye on. But there’s something honest about him. And I think I like him. “I see no reason to make this complicated.”

Augustus smiles, a wicked thing. Everything in his plan is lining out. He looks expectantly at Giovanni and Cliff.

“I need more time to look into him,” Giovanni says, and his tone makes me think he just wants to make us squirm. He just wants to be difficult. “We shall see how he performs at the ball. And how his human woman handles the pressure. A Baron must be tested.”

Augustus makes a low, growl sound in the back of his throat, and red embers ignite in his eyes. I see his grip on the chair tighten.

But it’s obvious he is not the sole dictator of the Barons because he doesn’t say anything. His gaze shifts over to Cliff.

“I agree,” Cliff speaks up, though he looks nervous, and he doesn’t look at Ares. “It’s too soon. If he handles the ball, if he shows he can keep his cool, if Lana can do what is needed of her, then I think we can move forward.”

Fuck that.

But I can’t say anything. We both have a part to play right now. This is simply a means to an end.

“Then we can all look forward to the ball with great anticipation,” Augustus says through clenched teeth. “I know my son won’t disappoint.”

Those words sound like a threat.

“We will see you all again on Saturday, then,” Harry says. And, without waiting for any further discussion, he stands, nods to the group in general, and makes his way to the doors. There, where I didn’t notice before, waits an obvious bodyguard, a massive man with deadly looking hands. The concept of a vampire needing a bodyguard is wild to me. And it makes me wonder, is Augustus the most powerful in this group? Or is it the one with the calm demeanor and zero patience for bullshit?

“Pleasure meeting you, Lana,” Sysco says as he stands, shaking my hand. He presses a quick kiss to the back of it, and Ares bristles. “Ares, I think we should go out sometime. You and I? We’re not like these other guys.”

The way he says it, it’s a compliment.

“I’ll call you,” Ares says, but from his tone, I can’t tell if he means it or not.

Sysco gives us a nod and makes his exit.

“I hope you don’t take it personally,” Giovanni says as he stands, as does Cliff. “The inner circle is tight. With matters as important as these, one cannot be too careful.”

“Of course,” Ares says as he gets to his feet. And it shouldn’t be satisfying that he’s at least four inches taller than Giovanni and a good six inches taller than Cliff. “We protect what we care about.”

Ares shakes Giovanni’s hand, and despite both of them being vampires, Giovanni winces, attempting to control it.

“Cliff,” Ares says, looking over at the squirrely man with a wicked smile that could rival Augustus’. “Pleasure.”

Cliff doesn’t say a word, simply swallows hard. He gives a nod and immediately turns and leaves. Giovanni follows right after him .

“Did I play your part well enough, father?” Ares asks once the others have exited. My nerves kick into high gear again.

“You barely spoke ten words,” Augustus says, fixing his son with a withering, cold stare. “Had you asserted yourself, spoken for your damn self instead of letting Harry Kim do it for you in the most simplistic way possible, you’d be a Baron already.”

“Patience, father,” Ares says, not rising to his father’s baiting. “Good things come to those that keep their fucking cool.”

Ares takes my hand, and like he hasn’t just poked the bear with a thousand toothpicks, he guides me back to those doors, and we make our dramatic exit.