Three’s a Clan (Hart Clan Hybrids) Page 20

  I also knew that wishing didn’t accomplish anything. I hit the bag harder. If you want something, you had to get it yourself.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Shelly

  I hate men. I hate hierarchy and the whole fucking vampire world. Could I be turned into a hybrid for a bit? This shit with my Family was getting out of hand. I just wanted someone to be in charge who could do their fucking job the right way. Sure, the right way meant my way. Why didn’t anyone understand that the women were always right?

  Women had young because the men couldn’t take care of themselves, let alone a child. My new Matheo was more child than man. I had seen men, and the fact that it took him so long to step up made him a child in my eyes.

  Men were strong and take-charge, and liked to wear denim, and had chest hair, and came in pairs…while they were balls deep in my body.

  Shit.

  I had tried my damndest to push Rick and Trevor away. They both needed to be without me. I wasn’t worth what they had given me. I was strong when I was on my own, or fighting against something. My father was dead. The harvesting ring was destroyed. Sure, that would pop back up eventually because people are assholes, but the main business had taken a huge hit. What the hell did I have to fight against now?

  The only thing I had was my new Matheo. He was in charge. He was inexperienced, and he was in striking distance.

  “Ow. Fuck, Shelly. What the hell?” My fearless leader rubbed the back of his head where I had smacked him. His skin had split and a single drop of blood fell to his shirt.

  “Sorry. I saw a bug.”

  He pulled his hand to his face and saw the slight red tint. He licked his hand and then sniffed.

  Hee hee.

  “Shelly. This was my Armani shirt. This thing was more expensive than your price when you stand on the corner. Unless you feel like hooking it back to Indiana, I suggest you knock it off. I get that you have some crap in your head that you can’t go back, but you are wrong.” His eyes met mine in the mirror.

  I didn’t want his fucking pity. Or his big brother act. “Don’t look at me like that unless you want me to find another bug.”

  “Fine. Just realize that I’m not going back just for the mansion.” He filled up his lungs and let the air hiss out. “But man, I cannot wait to get back into that Jacuzzi.”

  At least there was some fun to be had. “You remember how I gave the mansion to the witches?”

  “Yeah…”

  There is something about my smile that makes people shake. Anyone who knows me well enough knows that I am happiest when I can get back at someone who has fucked me over. “Well, it turns out that there are certain wild plants that will only grow in stagnant water. The Jacuzzi was perfect for that. It’s a magical herb garden now.”

  My Matheo cursed under his breath.

  “Yup. It’s a magical herb garden. A stinky, frog habituating, magical herb garden. With runes drawn on the side.” I grinned at the horrified eyes in the rear view mirror. “But on the bright side, it was painted in witch blood. So at least it will make you hungry.”

  I was thrilled when Annabelle had come from the Bed and Breakfast in Chicago to run the homestead I’d abandoned. She knew how to get things done, and I felt better knowing she’d lead the witches who wanted to remain. I’d known about the herb garden before Brandon even took over. I’d been saving the tidbit for a special occasion.

  My fearless leader decided I didn’t need cheering up after that, and just blasted his favorite Cher album.

  I am utterly convinced Cher is a vampire. Without her makeup, she looks just like she did when she was a teenager. At least that was what I told myself. I can be a bit delusional when I want to be. Delusion sounded fabulous right now.

  I knew that Trevor wouldn’t want me back. He would be done with me. There were only so many times you could reject a guy that his pride could take. I had no idea how Rick would react.

  I hated the unpredictable, and Rick held as much back as I did. He would push everything away, and I would never know how he felt. Seriously, the man was so much like me it was scary. That was why it took Trevor to get us together. He was the bridge. He was the one that allowed me in. He was the one that would have bit me first. I don’t know that I would have two matemarks if it weren’t for him.

  I knew their backstory now. I found it amazing how fate brought these men full circle. These men had needed each other as much as I needed them both in my life. If only I could turn back time… “Dammit. Does it have to be Cher? I know these songs too damn well, and they are even influencing my thought process.”

  “It will always be Cher. This song goddess will always have the words to express your innermost thoughts.” Steven and Matthew had passed their love of Cher onto Brandon, and I hoped they were still with Amber and Jake’s Clan and in the area. I wanted to beat them right now.

  Brandon was still idolizing. “And she will do it in the most god awful outfits, and make you realize she is a marketing genius who has stayed relevant far longer than anyone else. Fuck you if you can’t respect her.” He turned up the volume and while I cursed him for not allowing me to think, another part of me welcomed the fact that I could blame him and Cher for not being able to come up with a solution.

  The car ride was quiet after that. The trip home was nowhere near long enough. We didn’t need to sleep, so aside from a quick donation from a lot lizard at a truck stop, we were good to go. There weren’t all that many of us at this point. As much as I hated to admit it, and I wouldn’t say it out loud for any amount of money or sex, having a Matheo was critical.

  We pulled up to the mansion after four straight days on the road. No one in this caravan sweated, so body odor was at a minimum. That didn’t mean that we couldn’t be a bunch of funky people.

  Vampire bodies stagnated more than created odor. My hair was stiff and off kilter. There would be more than enough room in the mansion for all of us to live and have our own bathrooms.

  The door opened as we made our way up the steps.

  “Shelly, welcome home. And welcome to you all. Any of your rooms that had been occupied, we cleared out for you. There is so much space here—it is almost like a small town inside.” Annabelle spoke quietly, but her good intensions shouted at me.

  Annabelle and I had been chatting on the phone the whole way back. I was not thrilled about this move, but I was still this Family’s Protector and I needed to arrange for the accommodations.

  “Thanks, Annabelle. I meant what I said before we left. This building belongs to your coven. We aren’t taking it back, but we greatly appreciate you hosting us,” Brandon said the words, and we both noticed Annabelle’s immediate unease. “Is something wrong?”

  “Well, we were just wondering if everyone in your Family was…um…full?” Annabelle fiddled with the bell sleeves of her peasant shirt.

  Crap. This is why I got along so much better with bitches…with a b. Witches were too sweet and sensitive.

  I tried to be as clear as possible. “We aren’t snacking on you. Nor are we asking any of you for any kind of blood donation. You were subjected to the worst treatment anyone can bestow upon a donor aside from death. We have plenty of suitable donors and other sources. You are here because this is your home now. We are here until you don’t want us to be.”

  Brandon cleared his throat. “I pledge not a tooth will be laid upon you. And you don’t have to just talk with Shelly. You can come to me as well.”

  Annabelle nodded furiously. She was still a bit gun shy. Can’t blame the girl. The rest of the group filed into the house and began to unpack. Showers ran hot on every floor, and I was grateful for our investment in a top of the line water heater a few years back.

  I tried my damnedest to head up the stairs and snag myself a shower as well, but Annabelle grabbed my arm and pulled me aside.

  Had the w
oman not listened when Brandon told her she could chat him up too? Guess she thought she could connect with me more. She had read her tarot cards wrong this morning. On the best of days, I was only good for fighting and fucking. Annabelle wasn’t dumb enough to fight me, and by the lack of blood flooding down south, she wasn’t sexually interested in me. That meant girl talk. Fabulous.

  She leaned toward me and whispered, “I find myself in need of some advice on what to do with certain resources we have gathered.”

  “You can talk in plain English, Annabelle. I am not shy, and had to help decapitate my father, so I can take about anything you throw at me. Spit it out. I am tired and I want a shower and a donation from a drunken human.” Getting shitfaced on tainted blood seemed the only logical thing to do tonight. I was back in Indiana. Back near the college campus, and that meant they were both here too. My guard was up, but it wouldn’t last long.

  Annabelle pursed her plump lips. If the woman ever tried on makeup, she would be a knockout. “I would rather show you. Yes, I think that would be a better option.” A deep breath and she turned and started walking toward the back of the house.

  I was really over getting led around. But after all this, I followed her in order to placate her and get myself to a shower faster.

  “How about you just tell me while I am in the middle of my shower?” I followed her as she ignored my suggestion. At least she went outside and I wouldn’t have to have my stank confined by the walls.

  We walked out into the gardens and despite my best efforts to ignore the Protector goo, it made my feet stop. The miasma burst to life. The garden was flourishing under the hands of these witches. The weeds were gone. The flowers were tended and even outside what should have been their season, so many new plants had breached the earth’s surface. The miasma was having a field day cataloging them all.

  “Do you approve?” Annabelle was watching me as I took it all in.

  “It’s not up to me to approve anymore. I told you, this house is yours. Shit, you recreated it the way it used to be. This is how…” My voice ended. I didn’t want to go back to that time, but the miasma took me anyway.

  This was the way the garden looked when Jake’s mother lived here. The woman was wild, and the surrounding garden was where she spent most of her time. I often got the feeling that she felt more at ease out here than she did inside the building. It scared me that I identified with a rogue werewolf more than my Family, but when she’d made this garden, it had felt right.

  Annabelle said the same words now that Jake’s mother had said then. “This was how this land was meant to be. The ground here needed the life it had before. We just helped uncover it.”

  Her finger touched my elbow and quickly skittered away. If I hadn’t been paying attention, her touch would have felt like a small insect had bumped into me. Remembering how much I needed a shower and to get my scent out of the open in case of prying mate noses, I was just as annoyed as if she had been a bug.

  “You didn’t bring me out here for this did you? The garden is pretty, but this could have waited.”

  Annabelle shook her head. “I have more. Please come this way.”

  We went toward the exterior cellar doors. The witches had cleaned up the weeds and bramble covering the opening, but it was still an opening to a place where Kari, and many of their other sisters, had been tortured.

  I had expected them to do some kind of witchy ritual and fill it with cement, honestly. If it were me, I would have burned the whole estate to the ground and danced in the ashes. I would have to live with killing the bastard that had done it in the first place.

  “Why are you taking me down here?” I looked at her and tried to get a grasp on her emotional state of being.

  Annabelle’s pulse was racing, but I had a feeling that was more from me than the space. She wasn’t scared, she was nervous. “I just want you to see what we have gathered. I don’t know the best course of action here.”

  To say I was shocked when I walked into the first room was putting it way the fuck beyond mildly. Two worn couches—the kind that you would expect to see at a human granny’s house—flanked a coffee table. To either side sat balls of yarn and what looked to be crochet hooks and knitting needles. There was a large basket on the table filled with completed granny squares.

  “You brought me down here to see your knitting room?” Living here was not going to work. This chick was batshit crazy. “If your supply of yarn has you confused, I suggest you find a cat.”

  “The supply I am referring to requires refrigeration and is in the next room.” Annabelle’s heart rate drove higher. She was obviously dreading showing me this, despite any frustration she had at my sarcasm.

  When I walked through the stone archway and through a small door to take me to yet another room, I could see why she might be nervous. The drainage table that had held Kari still existed.

  “Why didn’t you take this down? Why didn’t you sell it? Why didn’t you destroy it? Does someone have a medical fetish or something?”

  Annabelle didn’t answer any of my questions. Instead, she opened a large refrigeration unit. When the door lifted, I inhaled, and my body stopped. The temperature inside my core dropped lower than the stone beneath my feet. It was filled with blood. Bags so numerous they surpassed any stash I had cataloged for the Matheo. If they added one more unit, the bags would start to pop under the pressure.

  I couldn’t look away. I took a quick sniff, and even through the thick plastic seal of the hospital grade containment bags, I could smell the potency inside. It was witch blood. I was far too familiar with the scent now. My eyes jumped to the inside of Annabelle’s elbows. She had a small pinprick on her right arm.

  “Why are you bleeding yourselves? That is a ton of blood. All of it is top quality witch. You are harvesting yourselves.” Was this some kind of PTSD situation? “Why? You know what happened to save you? You know what I destroyed? And you are in here doing what was being forced on you anyway?”

  I had to make a horrible choice that tore apart my Family. I’d had to lead it for a while, and now I was running from what felt like my destiny because there were some things that shouldn’t be forgiven and the reason I gave up everything was being thrown in my face. Pissed off was far too violently mild of a word.

  “Your kind is not the only one that uses blood. But we do believe that we have something of value to give you, and we wanted to accumulate that asset on our time. So we decided to collect some blood.” Annabelle tucked one of the bags back in that had started to fall from the pyramid of red blood cells. “We might have gotten carried away.”

  “So help me, if you are selling this…” I could understand taking power back, but this was just too much.

  “Of course not, but we saw your Family’s return. We know your new leader would never take from us by force. There is something to be said about having a gift and wanting to give it to someone. Them not demanding the gift makes one want to give it all the more.” Annabelle gave me a knowing smile.

  I was really getting annoyed by the fact that these witches could see the future and all that crap. Scrying mirrors were in the room behind us, along with pendulums and tarot cards. If they were in their little witchy room spying on me, I felt a bit violated.

  “Are you saying you want to be our donors?” I finally asked.

  “We can’t exactly walk up to the blood bank and make the deposit for human use. If you deny us this, the blood will go to waste.”

  Why did this woman make me feel like the evil bitch who wasn’t recycling? I was trying not to use her. She of all people must hate feeling used. She was the one who was manipulated for so long. “I don’t really know what to say.”

  “Shelly, we have fought for our freedom. You gave that to us. We are not warriors. This is some small way we can repay you. We want you to take the gift. We know you won’t abuse it.” Annabelle smiled.
She shrugged her shoulders and clapped her hands together. “Now, I shouldn’t keep you from settling in any longer. I assume you will let your Family know that this is available for their use?”

  “Yeah. I got it.” I was dumbfounded. We had donors that had agreed to give to us before, but we had always taken their memories after. The whole interspecies secretive thing was kind of important. Having someone who would know we were sitting at the kitchen table drinking from their vein in our coffee mug was disturbing. I really needed that shower. I doubted the steam would clear my head at all, but scalding my skin sounded like heaven at the moment.

  Annabelle shut the cellar behind us after we left. The witches had taken down the old doors and carved their own. The spells around them were beautiful. Enchantments, whatever you wanted to call them, were bled into the wood in old letters. Even I felt more at ease just seeing the work they had put into them.

  “That one is Berkano.” The witch told me as my finger traced the mark that looked like a B. “It’s the rune of becoming. The rune of rebirth. Fitting, don’t you think? It helps us remember that the most obvious truth is hidden deep within, and only you will ever know it.”

  “Me?” I asked as I jerked my hand back. I’d traced the whole rune three times with my finger before I could stop myself.

  “It’s a reminder for all of us. Our surroundings are what we make of them, Shelly. We choose to be here. We choose to give to you. All we ask in return is your honesty and your protection while you are here. Maybe a thank you as well.”

  Why did I feel like I was being scolded by a human for my manners? “You have to know that we appreciate this. And you also have to know it’s not necessary. We will use what you have supplied us with, but please don’t feel inclined to harvest any longer.”

  The witch in front of me puffed out her peasant-bloused chest and her hands formed fists and shook against her long flowing skirt. “Like I told you, it’s a fucking gift. Not a harvest. We aren’t a crop. Now say thank you.”