Page 54 of Santa's Wish
Kristin shook her head. "No way. I'm sending the council's day team. They know what to look for. If your parents have been manipulated, they'll know."
She shut her door and returned to her desk.
"Mom, I have work to do. We'll send a team over to find out what's happened to you. Just sit tight, okay?"
"Send a team? Sit tight? Who are you? Are you still my son, or have they already ripped you away from us?"
She continued her rant against vampires. Iexpected to hear that brand of vitriol from religious zealots, not my mom. The fury in her voice brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't listen to any more of her hate. I ended the call and muted the ringer completely.
While I sat in shock, Kristin ordered lunch for us from the deli down the street. The next thing I knew, she handed me a bag of food, pulled me out of my rolling chair, and dragged me to the large conference room. There, she rescued the bag of food before sandwiches started spilling out the top and set it on the table. She shoved me toward the nearest chair across from Memphis.
The shifters surrounded me, giving me a group hug while I tried to read the scribbled contents of my sandwich. Still overwhelmed by the conversation with my mom, I sniffled and tried to hold back tears. I righted my glasses, which had been knocked around during the group hug, until I could read "roast beef, extra pickle" on the label.
"We will figure everything out," Kristin reassured me as she took her seat at the head of the conference table. "Eat up. Boz is running laps around you all with his new project."
"Aw," Julie huffed. "I can't believe the new kid is faster than I am."
"He's got a gift," Kristin said, "but he's no faster than the rest of you could be. Stop talking about your weekend plans and do your work!"
They snickered at that and we all dove into our delicious sandwiches. The tangy pickle vinegar made me wonder what it would be like to eat nothing but blood instead. Did it all taste the same? I'd read the board at Blood Drive, with all their infusions, but how much flavor was too much before it would make me sick?
Back at my desk, I started a list of additional questions to ask Colette and Santa about vampirism. I got three questions in before I started feeling drowsy. A yawn caught me by surprise, and I almost tipped backward out of my chair. I leaned forward, hitting my chin on the desktop.
"Boz? Are you all right?" I heard Kristin's footsteps, and then everything went dark.
CHAPTER 16
SANTA
I woketo a burning sensation in my chest and an alarm blaring in my ears. At first, I thought it was the fire alarm, but mine was the kind that talked between bursts of loud noise. This never stopped.
And it was inside my head, not in my ears at all.
I dashed myself with water in the shower and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt while my skin and hair were still wet. The alarm didn't stop until I finally crossed the barrier between the parking lot and the street, though I almost didn't notice over the screeching tires. I gunned it toward Imperial Accounting.
Caution tape lined the front of the building. I recognized Greed, even in her business suit with her hair slicked behind her ears. She was trying to talk a police officer out of going inside.
"What happened?" I asked her.
"We've found ten unconscious shifters, and your boyfriend is missing," she said.
Sometimes I hated how fucking blunt she was, but I'd grown accustomed to Boz's fact without preamble. Tonight, Greed's tactless delivery was a blessing. I didn't waste time searching the five-story building. Greed was one of our best seekers. If she'd searched, Boz wasn't there.
Instead, I drove around the block with both windows rolled down, searching for his scent. I picked it up two streets east, the one that would take me to Fanglory. It seemed the least likely direction, but the smell of Boz's blood intensified as I neared the club.
In the club’s parking lot, I found two puddles of blood-filled puke. Boz's wards had worked, but a single drop of blood taken from my precious man was too much. A few feet away, a pair of familiar wire-rimmed glasses caught my eye. Someone had crushed the left lens. I scooped them up, rushed back to the car, and tucked them in the glove box, fervently hoping Boz would need them again later.
I retraced my steps with vampire speed. Fanglory's back door had been forced. Inside, I found Jameson with his neck snapped, the poor fucker. That hurt like a bitch.
I dragged him over to the bar and poured myself three fingers of blood, not even bothering to warm itup. By the time I'd downed it, Jameson was starting to stir.
"Fuck!" He cracked his neck back into place and sat up.
"Did you see who got you?" I asked.
He tried to shake his head and winced. "Pour me one of those?"
My heightened senses told me I didn't have time. I already scented Boz's blood in the air.
