Chapter 15
Confrontation
When Rhyne arrived back at the house, he found Welsh in the living room. The man was jubilantly bragging to someone on the phone. Hearing what the man was saying, the cold mass in his stomach that had been warning him for the past few hours turned sour and heavy.
“Yeah! Yeah, yeah! I promise! I’m not shitting you! I can see colors again! It’s like her blood flipped a switch in me, and now I can’t stop staring at things! It’s a fucking miracle!” The man laughed with delight. The sound chilled Rhyne even further.
A movement from across the room alerted him. Rhyne looked up to see Nash coming down the hallway. Putting a finger to his lips, he gestured to the man and went back to the kitchen.
“Please tell me he’s not spreading the word around about his eyesight,” Rhyne tersely asked once they were out of eye and earshot.
The expression on Nash’s face answered him before the man uttered a word.
“Fuck!”
“What’s the problem?” Nash asked.
Rhyne threw a hand in the direction of the living room. “Who’s he talking to? Do you know?”
“Cargill.”
“Cargill? Fuck!”
“What’s the problem?” Nash repeated with a bit of anger.
“Yeah, Rhyne. What’s up?” Welsh demanded, striding in to join them.
Rhyne whirled on the man, determined to stay on offense. “Did you call Cargill?”
The man narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. What’s wrong with that? Since when do I need your permission to make phone calls now?”
“Why were you telling him about your new eyesight?”
“What’s the matter? You jealous you can’t see in color?” Welsh shot back.
There had always been underlying animosity between him and Welsh, but they were able to keep their antagonism under wraps most of the time.
During those moments when they clashed, Nash acted as the mediator before the situation got to blows and sent them to their respective corners until they’d cooled down.
The last thing he needed was to let Welsh know he’d already been in contact with Grace, and that he’d already experienced the gift of color sight.
Fortunately, if there was one thing he was good at, it was thinking on his feet.
Rhyne dragged his fingers through his hair. “Holy fuck, Welsh! Do you know what you’ve just done?”
The man crossed his arms over his chest. “No. Tell me.”
“If what you say is true, if that girl gave you color sight, why the fuck did you have to tell others? Why couldn’t you have kept it between us? Within your own nest?”
Welsh waited to hear what else he had to say, which told Rhyne he’d piqued the man’s curiosity. Rhyne went in with guns blazing.
“We could’ve kept this between us. She could service just us. To hell with any other vamps finding out! She belongs to us! But now that you’ve told Cargill, word’s gonna spread, and they’re all gonna want a taste of her!”
Welsh shrugged. The man’s nonchalance irritated the shit out of Rhyne, but he pushed further.
“How many people have we encountered that had her gift, huh? And you know damn well that if another nest had come across a human with that ability, we probably would have found out about it, right?”
“Get to the fucking point, Rhyne!”
“My point is this. There’s just one of her, and there’s how many of us, would you estimate? A couple of hundred?”
“At least that many,” Nash chimed in.
“If they all want a taste, how long do you think she’s gonna last?” Rhyne demanded. “If they all want to indulge and keep wanting to indulge, how long do you think she’ll live?”
A smile he was well familiar with spread over the man’s face. In that instance, he knew his worst prediction was about to come true.
“We’ll keep her alive as long as we can. Don’t you worry about it,” Welsh advised. “In fact, I got a plan.”
Thankfully, Nash asked the next question. “What’s your plan?”
Rhyne glared at the man. He already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear Welsh’s confession.
“We’re gonna sell her blood to whoever can pay our asking price.” The man’s face widened. “We’re gonna make a mint off of her.”
Rhyne knew the expression on his face gave away his thoughts on that matter, but he didn’t care. “Welsh, you know as much as I do that there’s not that much blood in a human body.”
“Oh, we don’t need that much. You see, I only got a taste.
A taste. No more than a tongue full.” He demonstrated by running his tongue over the back of his hand, between the thumb and forefinger.
“That’s all I needed. So drawing a vial from her will service several of us.
As long as we don’t leech her, she should last us a long time.
A very long time.” The man laughed. It was deep, low, and raw.
It echoed the man’s greed and selfishness, proving he was undeterred by the thought of causing harm or pain to an innocent human. Not caring if he ruined a life.
But Rhyne knew why. After all these decades of living with targets on their backs whenever they were found out because of how the film industry had falsely portrayed them, too many vamps no longer cared when the proverbial shoe was on the other foot.
In fact, some of them got off on the cruelty.
Yet some like Rhyne couldn’t stomach it.
“And then what’ll you do once you’ve serviced all of us who can pay your, what I’m assuming will be, an exorbitant price?
Kill her? Or will you let her go?” Rhyne taunted.
That crucial bit of knowledge regarding the blood’s three-day limitation would remain a safely kept secret until Welsh found out for himself.
Let the asshole believe it was a one-and-done deal.
It was Grace’s only chance at this stage.
Nash took Rhyne’s side. “You’re not thinking of keeping her hostage indefinitely, are you, Welsh?”
The man shot him an antagonizing look. “What do you care? You’ll get your fair share, just like everyone else.”
Rhyne couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, so we’re expected to pay for our fair share, too?”
“For you, I should,” Welsh snapped. “For you, Nash, you’ve earned a freebie.”
“Just one?” Nash asked in disbelief. He was answered by a sardonic grin and a shrug. “What if she tastes so good, I want another sip?”
“Then you pay up.”
“I take it you’ve invited Cargill and his nest to come down and have taste?” Rhyne pressed.
“They’ll be here tomorrow to taste her wares,” Welsh confirmed. The man scratched his chin. “Which means I gotta figure out a way to get her.”
“To get her?” Rhyne stared at the man.
“Where are we gonna keep her?” Nash demanded.
“We got a nice basement we’re not using,” Welsh remarked. “Yeah, I know it’s a bit dark and musty, but she can yell all she wants while she’s down there, and we won’t have to worry about her being heard.”
Frustrated, Rhyne went over to the back door when Welsh yelled at him.
“Where are you running off to with your tail between your legs?”
“I’m hungry. I want a hamburger and some fresh air before I lose my temper and try to punch your lights out. Do I have your permission, Mama?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, if Welsh even intended to give him one. Slamming the door behind him, he hit the garage opener, grabbed his bicycle, and left the house.
But he didn’t head for the nearest Burger Barn.
* * *
“Something’s up with him,” Welsh observed.
“He’s upset,” Nash responded. “Give him a little time and some room to cool down.”
Welsh vehemently shook his head as he watched Nash open the back door to hit the remote to close the garage door. “No. This is different.” He shook a finger. “He’s hiding something. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you sense it?”
“Hiding what? From what I observed, he was pretty clear on his stance,” Nash argued.
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Welsh rubbed his hands together as he contemplated. “What could he be hiding?”
Brushing past the man, Nash retrieved another blood bag from the fridge. “Well, let me know when you’ve solved all the problems of the world. I’m going to go watch a horror movie and relax.”
Welsh watched his roommate leave but he didn’t move from where he stood. “You know he’s been acting weird these past couple of days!” he yelled back into the living room. “I tell you, something’s up with him!”
“I don’t heeear youuu!” Nash called back and raised the volume on the TV.
Snorting in part amusement and part disgust, Welsh snagged a bag for himself and went to join the guy.