Page 13 of Bonded By Blood
Chapter Four
“Another Sacramento woman was found dead early this morning,” a faceless reporter stated from the video playing on Kendall’s phone. Brianna tried to tune it out, but it was the only voice in the room. “Though her identity is still unknown, police have confirmed it was the same kind of gruesome scene as we’ve been seeing recently. This brings the body count to four in under a week. We—”
“Turn that off, Kendall,” Brianna said, having heard more than enough. She knew plenty about the latest spree of bloody murders plaguing the area.
The first two had happened on the same night she’d visited Joe. A single woman, downtown, whose body had been found with her throat ripped out. There’d been surprisingly little blood on the scene, considering. Halfway across town, though not discovered until hours after the woman, a man was found covered in blood. His throat had also been ripped out. Local police, human and vampire, had still been frantically searching for leads when another body was found two days after that. A little less blood, same missing throat. Now there’s a fourth.
Not only did they have a serial killer on their hands, but Trista was convinced it was one of theirs—a vampire. Chances were good it was Tobias Wilson. Knowing the identity of the killer, though, did nothing if they couldn’t find him. Humans continued dying.
The video clicked off and Kendall lowered her phone. “I’m just trying to stay up on the times,” she said. “It’s kinda relevant.”
“It might be,” Brianna agreed, “but you won’t learn what you need to from there.”
Kendall raised a curious brow. “Oh? Are you going to share this time?”
Brianna returned the expression. “I always tell you what’s important.”
“No,” Kendall said, the curiosity giving way to frustration. “You tell me what you think I need to know. There’s a difference.”
“Kendall,” Brianna said, “there’s no point in you knowing every tiny detail. I don’t always know the details. If it has the potential to impact you, I make sure to tell you.”
Kendall appeared less than satisfied. “Don’t you think, maybe, if it affects you it might matter to me? Or maybe I just want to know for the sake of being informed?” She gestured out, as if beyond the walls of the comfortable lounging room. “You know, when the staff knows more about local current events than I do, I look—and feel—like an idiot.”
Brianna frowned. “No one thinks you’re an idiot, Kendall. They respect you.”
Kendall scoffed, the sound abrasive, and looked up at the ceiling for a long second as if she were sharing a joke with it. Then she said, “No, they respect you. They fear what you might do to them if they were caught mistreating me. So they pretend.” She spread both her arms out as she added, “I mean, for most of the people here, I’m a flash in the proverbial pan! A brief annoyance. The way a fly gets trapped in the house, but dies in like two days. That’s what I am to everyone here. Everyone but you.”
Stinging pain stabbed Brianna’s heart at Kendall’s words. She’d honestly thought, after all this time, Kendall had become more comfortable here. In the beginning, when Kendall had been a child by every definition, of course there had been turmoil. Kendall had been thrust into a new, and vastly different, home. The mixed staff of paid humans and subservient vampires viewed the sudden intrusion of a naïve child with contempt. For a time, Brianna had insisted all blood-related activities be kept out of the main rooms and passageways, until Kendall could adjust to living with vampires. That hadn’t helped, but it had been necessary. After fifteen years, however, all of that initial confusion and awkward adjustment should have been behind her—behind all of them.
Brianna’s frown remained. “I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” she said. Even her mother, who had been against Brianna taking in a human child, had warmed up to Kendall. As much as Trista warmed up to anyone. It’d been nearly a decade since Trista had seriously broached the subject of trying to Turn her.
“How can it be?” Kendall asked. “You call me family, but you keep me at arms’ length.” She looked away as the scent of salt permeated the air. “I get it, Bri, I do. I don’t even know if I could’ve done what you did for me, and if you hadn’t, I’d be dead. So it’s not that I’m not grateful, okay?”
What is going on with her? Brianna stood and crossed to the chair, resting a hand on Kendall’s shoulder. “Kendall,” she said gently. “Talk to me. What’s this really about?”
Kendall sniffled, restraining her tears, and stood abruptly. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. Stubborn as ever. “What matters is that, mortal or not, I’ve got a lot of years left in me and I’d like to start being treated like real family. I want to know what’s going on, even if it’s information I won’t need to act on or utilize somehow down the road.”
Brianna opened her mouth, but Kendall wasn’t done.
“If I were your real daughter, you’d be including me by now, wouldn’t you?”
Brianna sucked in a breath. “Kendall Wheeler, that was uncalled for.” She stepped into Kendall’s personal space again and cupped her cheeks, holding her stare calmly. “You are my daughter. In every way that counts. I’m only trying to protect you.”
“I’m not a kid anymore,” Kendall said, the hurt and bravado in her voice fading away.
Brianna studied her, trying to understand where this outburst had come from. Everything had seemed fine not half an hour ago. But, as always, Kendall was an enigma unto herself. So Brianna pulled her into a hug, pressed her cheek to Kendall’s temple, and said softly, “I’m sorry.”
Kendall sighed. “Me, too.”
Polite throat clearing drew Brianna’s attention. She and Kendall stepped apart as Brianna looked over, finding Garvin waiting patiently several paces back. He had her afternoon drink ready to go. She hadn’t even heard him come into the room, she’d been so distracted.
“My apologies, Garvin,” Brianna said with a small smile. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
“Of course not, ma’am,” Garvin said. “I merely know you don’t like your blood to get too warm.”
“When at all possible,” Brianna agreed, moving and accepting the glass from the tray. “Thank you.”
The taller man bowed at the shoulders as he folded the tray against his torso. He was always so polite, maybe a bit too formal, but he did his job impeccably well. Brianna was quite fond of him. She took her first sip with a quiet intake of air and smiled.