Page 80

I pressed the necessary buttons, then spoke in a lowered tone. “This is Team Blood. We left Goldstein Street about ten minutes ago to resume our normal patrol,” I hesitated, then added. “We have encountered Ruin.”

As soon as I released the button, Sarge’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Damage?”

“None,” I said, following Brody and Tetiana when they weaved around a planter of flowers.

“Any combat?” Sarge asked.

“No,” I answered. “He wasn’t hostile tonight. Although I’d like to request a meeting after patrol.”

“Ooohh,” Grove’s voice blasted from my radio. “That doesn’t sound good!”

“This isn’t a reaction news channel, Grove,” Sarge growled. “Get off the line if you don’t have anything to report. Understood, Blood. Come to my office after you finish.”

“Yessir,” I said.

By the time I hooked my radio to my belt, Tetiana and Brody had turned onto Main Street about four steps ahead of me.

Whatever they saw made them stiffen and Brody—his arms hidden behind his back—swatted his hand at me signaling for me to stay back.

“Well, what do we have here?” Tetiana asked, her voice dripping with all the charm Brody claimed she didn’t have. Her entire demeanor changed from casual and relaxed to something more calculating and dangerous as she stepped around the corner, disappearing from my sight.

Brody skulked after her.

I pressed myself against the brick building—we’d emerged on Main Street at the Irish Pub, The Lucky Clover—and carefully peered around the corner.

Tetiana and Brody had sauntered up to a pair of supernaturals—vampires, since they had blood red eyes, although they looked more orangey and bloodshot than Tetiana’s beautiful red eyes.

Both vampires were tall and sickly pale. One had a hook-ish nose and his long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail tied at the nape of his neck, while the other’s hair was mostly covered by a beaver cap. Both were wearing fawn colored knee breeches, white silk stockings, black waistcoats, and jackets that I pinpointed as roughly belonging to the Revolutionary War era in America—the hook nosed one’s jacket was navy blue while the vampire with the beaver hat sported a green jacket.

The vampires were standing over a dazed looking young woman, whose eyes weren’t focusing right. She had to be human—she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that had the Lucky Clover’s logo emblazed on the shoulder, and a cellphone hung from her limp grasp.

“Ma’am? Ma’am,” Brody barked, his voice loud.

The woman didn’t respond, instead her head tilted on her neck as if she didn’t have the strength to keep it upright.

Woah. Yeah, they were using pheromones on her. She is way too out of it.

Most likely they were intending to daze her and lure her off to feed on.

Vampires were strictly barred from that kind of thing, but it didn’t stop them from attempting it if they thought they could get away with it.

“Using pheromones on a human?” Tetiana asked. “How low.”

“And what do you care, betrayer?” the vamp in the green coat sneered. “You’ve sold yourself to the Cloisters.”

“I care,” Tetiana said. “BecauseI’ve sold myself to the Cloisters, and they consider pheromone usage on humans illegal.”

“What Family are you with?” Brody demanded, his voice deep and guttural.

“As if we would sully its greatness by sharing its name with common riffraff,” blue coat sniffed.

“If you don’t want the Curia Cloisters coming after you, you’ll tell us,” Brody said.

“We do not answer to the likes of the Curia Cloisters,” green coat sneered.

“If you say so,” Tetiana casually strolled closer to the pair. “But youdoanswer to his Eminence Killian Drake.”

That spooked the vampires. They exchanged looks over their victim’s head.