Page 75 of Bonded By Blood

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Page 75 of Bonded By Blood

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Joe took back every negative thought he’d had about having been Turned as he ran at top vampire-speed back to the First Family’s estate, with an unhappy Kendall in his arms. It probably took him less than two minutes, despite his lack of familiarity with the way, and even despite the resistant female he’d had to physically haul off her feet. She hadn’t wanted to flee, regardless of the danger that surely she recognized she—they—had been in. Part of him understood, and sympathized, but escape had become the name of the game.

“Uncle, tell me why…”

Still, Joe had to admit, he wished he could have stayed to hear Boris’s answer. What sort of response could the man have for his behavior? None. Not when everything was boiled away. But what excuse would he give?

Concern churned Joe’s stomach as he slowed, realizing he’d dashed straight past the neutral Great Room and into Trista’s wing of the mansion. He’d been intending to head for the throne room from the beginning, but as the double-door entrance came into sight, what remained of his sanity whispered questioningly at him. Had he lost his mind, barging into the Queen’s territory? Possibly. But as long as he succeeded in keeping Kendall safe, and managed to arrange for help for Brianna, he was all right with risking his life.

Kendall stirred, trying to push away enough to look around, moments before Joe elbowed his way into the room. He could only imagine how it must have felt to travel through half the city at that rate of speed, in such a position, and he did feel a little bad about that. She curled a fist against his chest, just below his shoulder, and tried again to free herself. “Let. Me. Go!”

Movement across the room drew Joe’s attention as the doors swung shut behind him, echoing loudly as if announcing his presence.

Trista lifted her head, and her fangs, from one of the human staffer’s forearms. Droplets of crimson blood dotted her lips as her fangs slowly receded and she narrowed her eyes. “Joseph. You have quite some nerve, barging into my private space.” She waved a dismissive wrist at the staffer and stood, reaching for a cloth napkin simultaneously.

Joe set Kendall on her feet but kept hold of one of her arms. “I apologize for that,” he said, while he could.

Kendall promptly smacked him across the face. “Who do you think you are? You can’t just grab me like that! I said I didn’t want to—”

“Hate me all you want,” Joe said, letting a little of his irritation show as he narrowed his eyes at her. “But you know damn well I just saved your life. And that is why I brought you back here. Where you’re going to stay, do you understand?”

Kendall matched his glare. “I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Kendall.” Trista’s tone was calm, but there was a note of caution in the air.

Joe and Kendall both looked over at the Queen as she settled in her throne.

Trista stared directly at Kendall when she spoke again. “This wouldn’t be the first time Joseph demonstrated worry for your safety, out of respect to Brianna’s love for you, in a crisis. Perhaps you should consider returning that respect.”

Kendall stiffened.

Joe let go of her arm, knowing even if she ran he could catch her, and focused on what he needed to say. “Kendall’s safety was only part of the problem,” he said.

Trista snapped her gaze to him. “Go on.”

“We met the Wilson’s master. He calls himself Boris,” Joe explained, watching her face carefully, “but the problem is, Brianna knows him.”

Trista’s lips dipped into a frown. “Brianna knows many vampires,” she said. “Though it’s been quite some time since she made an acquaintance outside of the Family. Are you saying that blood slave wasn’t our only traitor?”

Joe shook his head. “No. She addressed him as ‘uncle’.”

Silence dominated the room as Trista’s eyes widened.

Kendall’s heart beat out of synch with her ragged breathing, picking up tempo with each passing second, becoming a rapid crescendo of almost palpable tension.

Then Trista was standing in front of him, her loose hair trailing behind her from the sudden rush of movement. She reached up and curled her fingers into the sides of his throat, using her grip to pull him down to meet her level. Her dark eyes were narrowed, burning with rage and something Joe couldn’t identify, something he guessed she was less familiar with. But the rage was all he heard when she spoke, her low, venomous tone overriding Kendall’s delayed gasp. “Why, precisely, would she have done that?”

Joe pulled in a breath through his nose.

“H-hey,” Kendall said, fear that he assumed was not for herself wafting off her in waves. “It’s not his fault.”

Trista held up her free hand, as if to rebuff Kendall’s words. She never looked away from Joe. “Be silent, granddaughter. Go, sit. Wait.”

Despite the nails digging in to his jugular, Joe had the strangest urge to smile for a fleeting second. He wondered if Trista realized what she’d said. But he didn’t point it out. Instead, he said, “I know you want answers, and the truth is, I don’t have them. What I know is, Brianna recognized him, but she didn’t know the name he’s going by until he introduced himself. She said something about thinking he was dead. But there isn’t time right now. He’s already proven he’s stronger, or at least more prone to violence, and even with Jasen there, I’m worried.”

The grip on his throat tightened. “Jasen is there with her, yet you’re worried? What of the Slayer?”

“He’s there, too,” Kendall volunteered. “He cut off Troy Wilson’s arm.”




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