Page 81 of Bonded By Blood
Chapter Twenty-One
Joe’s question went unanswered, as the words were barely past his lips before a series of startlingly loud sputtering and stomping footsteps from the main hall drew everyone’s attention. He heard a male say something about someone else not belonging there, followed by some more shuffling, and as Trista found her feet a more familiar voice drifted through the closed doors.
“Get out of my way.” It was Adrian Colt, the Slayer. Not only was he still alive, he was apparently still mobile.
Joe had to admit, at least to himself, he was surprised.
Beside him, Brianna sucked in a breath and rushed to get to the doors before her mother could. She pulled them both open wide, though Joe couldn’t see more than a partial silhouette past her, and raised her voice. “Leave him be.” The authoritative tone in her voice was one Joe had rarely heard. It vanished with her next declaration. “Mercy.” She glanced in and looked straight at Joe. “Help me.”
He stood, not bothering to ask what she needed help with, and strode quickly up to her side. His eyes widened.
A handful of fidgety guards and vampire staff members stood back, on either side of Colt. Colt himself had Jasen’s arm around his shoulders and seemed to be carrying the bulk of the usually-deadly vampire’s weight. Jasen was covered in at least twice as much blood as Colt, and Joe could tell most of it was his own.
“Y-your Highness, we can’t allow—”
Joe moved forward, to take Jasen’s barely-conscious weight from Colt, as Brianna spoke.
“I won’t hear it. Go back to your posts, all of you.”
Jasen grunted—whether in pain, disapproval, or both, Joe couldn’t tell—as Joe mimicked Colt’s previous hold on the opposite side. Jasen was technically taller than him, which made it a little awkward, but he managed with some help from his unnatural strength and Jasen’s uncharacteristically slouched stance.
“Come on,” Joe mumbled, “we’ve got some blood inside. You could definitely use a drink.” Or a bottle. They would need to call for another.
“Adrian,” Brianna said as Joe started forward with Jasen, “you, too. Please.” She held out her hand in invitation.
The Slayer walked forward, keeping a half-step behind Joe, but didn’t verbally respond.
Brianna stayed at the doorway until everyone was in the room, then eased the double-doors shut.
Joe moved Jasen to the couch, offering Trista an awkward nod of gratitude when she stepped out of his way.
“Oh my God,” Kendall said with a sharp intake of breath.
Colt came up and helped Joe position Jasen, who groaned—or growled—in some attempt at a protest when he was propped up only enough to drink without choking.
“I can see I’m going to need to reupholster that sofa,” Trista said after several seconds. She held the bottle out, for Joe to pass to Jasen.
“Mother, this is no time for jokes.”
“What? He’ll be fine. Jasen hates being fussed over.”
Joe looked back at Jasen, who was already gulping what remained of the drink. Both statements were probably true, based on what he knew of the man.
“More importantly,” Trista said, “we need more blood for him.” She shifted her focus to Colt. “And I need to speak with you, young Slayer.”
“Yeah,” Colt said. “Can’t say I anticipated running into a wayward Original on this job. Mind telling me what’s up with that?”
Joe cringed as he watched Trista’s eyes narrow.
“I’ll tell you only that I’d sincerely hoped he was dead,” she replied. “And making sure he ends up that way won’t be your responsibility. I’m not that unreasonable.”
Joe glanced over at Brianna and arched a brow.
“Pretty sure he wants me dead now,” Colt said. “Me, Jasen, the local wolves, and obviously everyone else in this room.”
“Why would he care about you?”
Brianna stepped up beside her mother. “How many did he kill before he got away from that fight?”