Page 8 of Blood Illusions

“You found something.” It was more of a statement than a question.

Damon cracked a half-smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He plunked the carefully wrapped head on the table. “Special delivery for the head honcho.”

Tim lifted his eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“I mean that literally,” Damon quipped.

Tim slowly unwrapped the blanket. The head rolled toward the back as if trying to escape, but Damon caught it.

The thing opened its mouth and tried to bite him.

“Damon, kill it!” Tim raised his voice, which he never did. He was always cool, calm, and collected.

Damon took a blade from his jacket and stabbed the thing in the forehead. The head stopped moving, and the glint left its eyes.

I gasped and jerked up from my chair, nearly knocking it over. The color of the head changed from white to pale blue.

Damon glared at him. “Great, now their heads are changing colors. What is this? Mood rings for vampires? Let’s hope this thing doesn’t explode.”

I glanced at Tim and narrowed my eyes. “You knew what we had, didn’t you?”

Damon slammed his palms on the table. “What’s the deal, huh? Keeping secrets a fun hobby for you, or did you forget to send us the memo?”

“You’re not the first team to kill such a creature. They are leaving a line of dead bodies, completely drained not only of blood but bone marrow. It’s like these vampires are starving and can’t satisfy their hunger.” His grave voice was like a chilling wind that froze my bones.

I swallowed my trepidation and blinked away hot tears. Was this what was happening to my poor dad?

Damon gave me a reassuring smile. “Dad’s a tough bird. Vampires would think he tasted as dry as a bone.” He locked gazes with Tim. “You haven’t heard anything about Dad, have you? He’s not home.”

Tim shrugged. “He came in here a few days ago, researching something. I’m sure it was vampires again, but he didn’t say much. Except for you two, he’s not the sharing type. You think he went out on his own or something?”

I couldn’t keep silent. “We found blood in Dad’s bedroom, but we don’t know if it’s his or something else.”

“Damn it.” Tim slammed his fist on the table. “I should have known he would do something dumb. His obsession with the vamp who killed your mom is going to get him killed.”

“You know what he did to her.” My voice shook with anger, and I tried to block out the image of her mangled body.

“Yes, I remember,” Tim stated softly. “She was a wonderful mother and wife, but sometimes you forget she was a good friend to all of us.”

I nodded and wiped away a tear. Hunters didn’t cry. Dad’s and Damon’s rule. I tried to smile back, but the most I could do was to keep a stiffer upper lip.

Damon turned to Tim. “Any word from the PMC?”

“About your dad? No.” Tim flashed his gaze between Damon and me. “But our sources say they don’t have anything to do with this.”

Damon laughed bitterly. “And if they told you the moon was made of cheese, would you believe them?”

“I didn’t say the Elders believed them. I only reported what the PMC claimed.”

The Elders were the ones who’d signed the truce, but if the PMC had plans to kill humans, the Elders would declare all-out war on the PMC. Dad always said, “Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.”

Damon sat in a chair with a thud and crossed his arms. His jaw was set, and his face gave away nothing but determination. “And?”

“We need to find out about this new breed of vampire,” Tim insisted. “Teams have been hunting these creatures.” He sighed heavily and looked at his hands. “Some of the hunters have disappeared. It sounds like your dad might have been their next victim.”

Damon rubbed his chin and leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. “You mean they became Happy Meals for the vampires?”

Tim looked up. “Unfortunately, yes.”