Page 130 of Hoofin’ It

The poetic side of the Babylonian startled me. “He’s the one who got me involved with all this.”

Mark O’Conners had taken Marian—who known as Sally at the time—away from me. He’d try again, and he’d keep trying until he succeeded, either by taking her, killing me, or killing us both. For men like him, there’d be no other choices, not ones they’d be willing to make.

“Yes. This is why we started with him. His master is Luca Ricci, a vampire—a traditional one.”

Quinton sighed. “We know of Ricci. He’s a young fool who wishes to own the world so he might drink it to dust.”

Abil Ili flicked his hook-tipped claws at Ernesto’s son. “Tell them of traditional vampires, the ones like this Ricci. They only know of your brood. It shows in their lack of true fear, their respect, and their friendship. If you demonstrate, take his jacket and shirt off, and try not to leave a mess on my floor. They should know what they face. Ricci is here, and he is prepared to hunt.”

His entire body tensed, and Quinton stared at me. “Traditional vampires aren’t kind when they feed.”

“I’d say your fangs weren’t so kind to my wrist. Your bite hurt.”

“A forced feeding is much worse. Although my bite hurt, I had your consent. You knew I was hurting you to help. You didn’t fight me. If Ricci fed on you, you would fight, and you would lose. A vampire’s sway becomes easier to fight with subsequent bites. It’s why Papa insists we feed as we do. We don’t need to prey on an entire city, only a few. The violence of Ricci’s feeding grows with every bite because the will of his prey strengthens. He’s a weak, despicable vampire.” Quinton hissed, flexing his hands. “You believe it’s necessary?”

“For both of them. If you take him first, you won’t have to fight both of them. His lady, I think, will understand the necessity.”

Marian pressed her back against me, and her hands covered mine. “Convince me it’s necessity, perhaps.”

“Vampire magic. If I bite you both, you’d fall under the protection of Papa’s brood—blood magic. Your parents, freshly bitten, already have that protection. It takes roughly three days to fade. We’re aware of the blood in our veins, and it binds us together. Papa will bite your parents again once he learns Ricci is coming. Papa is stronger than Ricci, and Ricci’s magic cannot overwhelm Papa’s. They would be immune to his enthrallment, immune to the enthrallment of Ricci’s entire brood.”

“So if you bite us, we enjoy that same protection?”

“The bite will hurt. There’s nothing kind of how a traditional vampire feeds. Papa would use Amy to mitigate the pain—enraged lycanthropes are a force that challenges even him, but you two need to understand it in its entirety, so you can fight its effects should you be taken or they try to bite you.”

Marian sighed, a frustrated, angry sound. “Explain how this Ricci is involved.”

Abil Ili tapped Ricci’s picture with his claw, and a map of the United States appeared. Red and gold lights marked most of the major cities, with thin lines connecting them into a network. A network of what, I wasn’t sure. “Ricci is one of three masterminds of the operation. One part feeds the sex industry, which is how you were caught in the web. With a little help from a friend, we learned the true purpose of the sex trafficking operation. Not only does it provide women, but it provides blood—last life blood, death blood. The women are used until they no longer appeal to the market, and then they are sold a final time to old vampires in need of new life. Their deaths are purchased, and they’re drained of their lives, their bloodless, empty husks discarded.”

The thought of Marian being killed after being sold into slavery chilled me to the bone, and I tightened my hold on her. “They’re murdering the victims.”

“Our research, provided to us from another source, indicates the women are killed when they are either too old to fetch a good price or become pregnant. A pregnant woman can’t work.” Abil Ili’s claws slashed the air, and the reflective panels of his carapace turned crimson. “You got too close to their operation. Ricci must eliminate you both. He would rather the woman serve him and add to his wealth, but he has no use for a man who has thwarted his plans too many times.”

“Accidentally,” I muttered.

“Accidental or not, you could break the circle of his so-called eternal life. That is the problem with traditional vampires. They do not understand or care other ways exist to gather the life they need to sustain them. Sustenance is more than blood taken.”

I inhaled, a sharp, hissing sound. “The Saven brood drinks blood freely given. Ricci’s brood steals it.”

Turning to Quinton, Abil Ili chuckled. “Intent matters. To nurture and flatter goes against a vampire’s basic instinct to hunt and kill, but for the Saven brood, it is the secret to a long, life—an immortal one. Ernesto’s children walk beneath the light of a noon sun hundreds of years before other vampires. Even in their youth, a glimpse of the sun isn’t lethal. It hurts, and it is dangerous, but they survive long enough to seek shelter. Ricci must create new children more frequently because his are weak and die young.”

“Papa is different.”

“Your entire brood is different,” the Babylonian corrected. “But you would be wise to show them how most vampires feed. Not only to gift them with the protection of your bite, but so they might feel what it is like to be truly dominated by a vampire.”

Marian pulled free of my arms, stepping closer to the murder board to touch the map, zooming in on Des Moines. Flags marked twenty locations, and I recognized one as the farm she’d been taken to when she’d been trapped in an alpaca’s body. “This is worse than I thought.”

“The FBI was close to discovering the truth, too close. Mark O’Conners was not supposed to let you live. From what we have learned, framing you for his murder was an attempt to redirect resources and turn attention away from their operation to allow time to restructure, reroute, and erase evidence of their crimes.” Abil Ili pointed at several of the markers in Des Moines. “Most of these are part of the sex trafficking operation, but some are part of the final sales network. The clients are almost always vampires, but demons participate, too. The demons interest me. They take the pregnant ones.”

I shivered. “What happens to them?”

“They are the reason the FBI was getting close. Vampires want life to end. Demons feed on the creation of new life. The women would have been impregnated due to their influence. That creates a bond—with the mother, with the child. The bond fades within a few months of the child’s birth, but it is against a demon’s nature to kill those they help bring to life.” The Babylonian tapped a flag, bringing up information on a butcher’s shop on the outskirts of Des Moines. “This butcher works with an animal auction not far outside the city. He provides the tag numbers for the animals—transformed women and men—so the vampires can purchase them. The demons infiltrate the market, outbid the vampires on the pregnant women, and take them to safety. They have figured out the secret to reversing the transformation, so the woman is sold to new owners—owners who care for her and her infant. The mother and child are relocated, and often will rejoin the cycle, but in a more pleasant atmosphere. Incubi tend to become protective of the women in their keeping. It is not uncommon for one to settle down with a female thus procured until the end of her lifespan.”

I froze, cold terror stabbing deep into my chest. “My grandfather is an incubus.”

“Yes. Your grandmother may have been a victim of such an operation, and your grandfather had claimed your grandmother as his to protect her and your unborn mother. We do not know for certain, but it is possible. Incubi do not settle with lifelong partners often—not without duress being involved.” The Babylonian sighed. “Or angelic influence. I have seen the results of your genetic testing. You are no angel.”

I took several wobbly steps to the conference table, grabbed a chair, and sat down before I fell down. “How likely?”