“What did they discover?” the Overlord asked.
“We’ve been checking and cross-checking our database against census reports, genealogy websites, and social media sites, trying to track down other family members of known sweetbloods. The researchers think some families may carry the recessive gene that they can isolate in the lab.”
“I’m liking the sounds of this already.” The vampire’s thick, yellowed nails dug into Maurice’s shoulder. “So instead of mating two sweetbloods, they may be able to mate twonon-sweetbloods who have the recessive trait and still get a sweetblood offspring? Is that what you’re saying?”
Maurice nodded, but he doubted the Overlord would like what he was going to hear next.
“So, what has that Seattle cell discovered?”
“Remember that prolific family, the Shaws from Southern California, the one that produces several sweetbloods each generation?” He pushed his glasses up higher. They slipped down his nose when he sweated. And he always sweated when the Overlord was this close.
“Yes. I know them very well indeed. Let’s just say I’ve had a personal relationship with quite a few of them over the years.”
“Some of our new tech guys were playing around and accessed our database. Seems one of them has some internet sleuthing abilities, as he traced a Shaw female to the Seattle area. She had changed her last name so she wasn’t flagged by our system.”
“A Shaw female there? Twonewteam members found a human with one of the most sought-out bloodlines? I’d call that an egregious oversight, wouldn’t you?”
Maurice swallowed. “Yes, sir. We’ve since changed the search criteria.”
“How did they find her?”
“She recently set up a website and her About Me page mentions San Diego. We would have found her eventually, sir. We did locate her brother, but he’s not a sweetblood.”
The Overlord cursed quietly under his breath, halting the movement of air in Maurice’s lungs. “And you’re just figuring out now he has a sister? Do we know if she’s a sweetblood?”
“Yes, she is. At least they think she is.” Maurice took off his glasses and mopped his forehead with a tissue.
“Youthink?”The stench rose off the Overlord like a mist.
“She actually hasn’t been captured yet. The team had her cornered, but somehow before they could bring her in, one of them was staked and the other one ran.”
The pungent smell intensified and bile bubbled into Maurice’s esophagus, burning away at the lining. He could hardly keep his glasses perched on his nose.
“Who staked them and where is the female?”
“Agency operatives, sir. One of them has her.”
The sound Maurice heard next surprised him a little. He’d figured death would hurt, but he hadn’t expected it to have a sound. It was rather like a juicy thud, a watermelon sliced in half with a sharp blade.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Every nerve in his body was frayed like ends of an unraveled rope by the time Dom pulled into the parking garage. If it hadn’t been dawn, he’d have walked the streets of Seattle looking for a fight. Any fight. It wouldn’t have mattered whether he ran into a Darkblood or not, as any confrontational being would’ve served the same purpose. His body itched with aggressive energy, and he needed to unload it somehow.
A short time ago, a willing female would’ve provided the necessary outlet for his pent-up aggressions. But it didn’t hold much appeal now since all he could think about was Mackenzie. He would not lie with another woman. If he were to be with someone else, he had to assume she’d do the same. And the thought of Mackenzie underneath another man, those emerald eyes looking up into a face other than his own, her lips swollen from another man’s kisses, another man’s name on her tongue, made him seethe with anger.
He debated calling her but decided it was still too early. He hoped she was sleeping back at Chuck and Shirl’s. He pulled out his cell phone then changed his mind and tossed it on the seat. He ached to hear her voice again, though he didn’t know what hewould say. “I love you but I want to kill you. I want to be with you but I have no life to offer you.” What a catch he was.
“Fuck that.”
He grabbed the phone and called her before he changed his mind. He had to hear her voice again, even if she was frightened of him. Or angry with him for ditching her. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. It rang once and his heart tumbled in his rib cage. Twice and his scalp prickled with sweat. Three times and it went to voice mail. He listened to her whole message, letting the sound of her voice echo inside him, then hung up without leaving one of his own.
Maybe it was for the best.
She deserved far better than anything he had to offer. He was an idiot to even contemplate a future.
After going through security, he took the stairs down to the field office two at a time. Changing out of his street clothes, he slipped on his favorite set of gloves and pummeled a punching bag until rivulets of sweat stung his eyes and blurred his vision. After a quick swipe with a towel, he grabbed a pair of wooden knives and worked the knife dummy, thrusting and twisting until his muscles screamed in protest. And then he did it all over again.
Lily had been looking forward to her daily run on the treadmill before turning in for the day, but when she pushed open the double doors to the gym and heard familiar, yet very irritating music screeching through the speakers, she knew her mindless 5K probably wasn’t going to happen. It had to be Dom. Why was he back so soon? She’d figured he’d be gone for another day or two—even if he had received her text message about what they’dfound at the Darkblood den. Must not have gone well with the woman last night.
