Of Blood & Consequence (Book 2 of The Blood Bond Series)

22. Goodbye?

"What are you doing here? Do you not even text or call before you come over now?" Michael was irritated, but even he could see that Delia was about ten seconds away from flipping out monumentally. The feisty female was standing like a rabid Doberman pinscher protecting a bone, ready to snap at the first sign of a hand reaching for her.

He felt like he might need to rein her in in a bit just from the murderous look on her face.

"We've come to say goodbye, Michele," his mother told him, pointedly ignoring the fiery female in front of her to speak to her son. Her words seem to take some of the tension out of Delia's frame, and she stood straight up with her shoulders squared. "And we wanted to offer you one more chance at—"

Michael held his hand up, halting his mother's words before the woman said too much. "I told you that I'm not interested in your generous offer and that I am perfectly fine where I am and with what I do now. Mamma, please...take this as my final denial. I don't want to speak of it again, truly."

Nico stayed quiet in the background, his face oddly impassive, but Giuliana sighed and closed her eyes as if trying to stem her own upheaval of feelings—if she had any. She was as cold and calculating as anyone in Delia's eyes and from what she'd heard from Michael.

"I will leave it as an open-ended offer, figlio." She walked into the room past Delia, headed towards Michael. "It is only the best I wish for you, and you deserve much more than the small life you can live here."

Instead of feeling any sense of relief, Michael grew angrier. "My small life, as you put it, is with my mate. Here in LA, without any of the trappings of the opulence and extravagance you lay claim to. I like it that way."

The words were ground out between clenched teeth, and his whole body tightened in response to his mother's words. There seemed to be no point in speaking plainly or in riddles with Giuliana Jensen. She was as stubborn as a mule and as cold and indifferent as ice.

There was a hasty goodbye as Michael's parents gave him a quick double-kiss, murmuring things to him about visiting often or having him come back to Sicily for a bit when Delia was better at containing her blood rage. When they were done speaking with him in low tones, they both looked over at Delia, who was still standing near the door, though she'd closed it behind Nico after he walked in.

Her stance said everything: confusion at their hasty departure, loathing the pull they wished they had on their son, the general mistrust she had in them. There was no ounce of a normal welcoming demeanor, and she stood as if on the precipice of war, which it certainly felt like in her mind.

Delia didn't know what to say, but she knew that she wouldn't be completely rude so long as they were civil in return. She was highly doubtful they could be. They were the opposite of the cacti she'd grown up seeing in the Arizona deserts. All their prickles and stings were on the inside and their outer form was deceivingly appealing.

"It was nice meeting you, Delia, however short our encounters have been," Giuliana told her in her heavy accent.

"Same here. It was good to meet Michael's parents finally." Wish you'd never come, but I suppose it was inevitable, you old snake.

Almost as if the woman could hear her inner turmoil, one side of her mouth hooked up into a crooked half-smile. "You are always welcome at our home in Sicily. We look forward to you visiting as soon as you are able."

Soft words—nearly. They held a hint of the disdain they felt for her, not only as a newborn vamp, but as one who they saw as beneath their son. Delia couldn't help but quip back without thinking.

"Even if I'm an unimpressive woman for your son to be mated to? I'm much obliged."

It was said with only a dash of the fire she felt coursing through her veins at their unwelcome presence, but she stood tall and proud behind her not-so-hidden meaning, her hand outstretched to offer in a somewhat amicable goodbye.

Like the smile that melted off her face, Giuliana's mouth continued to turn down, though Nico's remained as wooden as ever. Like the man indeed had no soul like some of the more vicious vampires claimed. Delia swore he'd have the same indistinct gaze if he was watching a snuff film as well.

It made her trust for Michael's mother pale in comparison to his father. True enough that the unknown was always the most frightening thing to behold. Giuliana may have been a shrewd and devious woman, but it was the quiet ones, she figured, that you really had to watch out for. They hid more secrets behind their steady façades than a grimoire of black magic did.

Giuliana took her daughter-in-mating's hand and shook it once, dropping it like she'd be branded with silver or was expecting a cleverly concealed switchblade to shoot out and eviscerate her. It seemed she didn't trust Delia any further than the younger vamp did the Jensens.

Fair enough, Delia thought and realized she was actually sort of proud that she was feared in some way. Possibly even respected, albeit reluctantly. How she was, she didn't know, but reckoned it had all to do with her influence on their son.

Delia shook Nico's hand, and a small smile curved his lips like he'd forced his facial muscles to move in congruence with however his brain was telling him to act. There was no warmth, no trust in the gesture, just the fleeting glimpse of something he learned by years of experience to exude in a human world. Just enough to get by as normal.

Delia's skin crawled after he pumped her fist twice, and they were ushered back out into the hall before Michael pressed his forefinger to his lips and used the other hand to gesture her toward him.

As they moved back toward the bedroom, he whispered urgently. "It wouldn't surprise me if they decided to stick around out in the hall for a bit to try to listen in on us. It's best if we speak in the bedroom. These walls aren't thin, but in the living room we stand a chance of being overheard even so."

When they entered the bedroom, Michael closed the door behind them as if he couldn't put enough distance between them and his parents. He continued to stare at it anxiously until they were both sitting up in the bed. "They should go if they don't hear us talking in a couple of minutes," he murmured.

"Why are they leaving already?" Delia whispered. "I thought it would take at least a siege on their hotel suite before they would be scampering off to parts unknown. This seems too easy."

She didn't like, not one bit. They'd only reached out a few times to Michael since their meeting at the hotel, but Delia felt like their requests to him would only increase—not fall by the wayside entirely before beating a hasty retreat.

Michael agreed with a few bobs of his head. "Yes, and I don't like it. My mother is usually much more stubborn than this. I mean, why come all the way to the States and then f**k off a week later?" His face contorted like he was thinking intently about something. "They don't leave Sicily often, but when they do, they don't give up until they've gotten what they wanted. This could be bad, fiore."

And he needed to know just how bad it could get. He needed to speak with Eli, Alex—anybody that could know anything that could help him.

Standing up from the bed, he got completely dressed in a different outfit while urging Delia to do the same.

"I want to head over to Eli's," he told her as he grabbed a fresh pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt. "I know it's last minute and a bit late, but I want to speak to them all about this. Maybe Alex has connections that we haven't heard about. Perhaps Crane—" He shook his head as if warding off an unpleasant thought. "The whole family have a lot of friends and associates in the area, and we need to be on guard in case my parents don't actually leave. Or..."

He looked over at her before sighing.

"I'm afraid they could have us followed here, and for your protection, we might have to ask Eli for a little bit more help, though I hate bringing him further into my troubles."

"Our," Delia corrected. "Our troubles."

***

The whole ride over to Cassie and Eli's, Delia looked into the rearview mirror. She was no security expert, but her vampiric eyes were sharp even in the dark of night. Not one of the vehicles within her acute vision were the same that had followed them onto the roads in downtown, and there were even fewer vehicles now that they were this close to the hills where they lived. She breathed a little easier, though she still felt suspicious of every passing shadow.

If these were only humans, she would fear only for their lives, for the sweet smell of their blood even through their skin—it would be too tempting. But these were vampires. Older ones that were far more cunning than the few she called her friends, and miles upon miles more dangerous.

On the way to the estate in the hills, Delia had texted Cassie that she and Michael needed to see them right away, and of course, Cassie being Cassie, said to come right away and they would let them in the gates as soon as they were outside. When their car passed through the silent, moving metal, Delia only closed her eyes in silent thanks that there were no other people around that could have been watching them. She thought they were safe enough for now, but what of the future?

Giuliana and Nico knew where they lived, so they could always fly back or send their precious little henchmen to keep an eye on them.

Delia was afraid they might have to leave the first home that they'd shared all too soon. She like it and it was going to be much more difficult to find another place so close to their respective jobs that wouldn't cost twice as much to rent.

It looked like the schooling she was looking forward to would also have to wait.

Cassie greeted them at the door, her face stricken—almost as if she expected to see both of them bloody or beaten, though that was not exactly a possibility for them. Unless pierced with silver, their kind was impervious to the usual battle scars and wounds humans could be afflicted with.

As soon as she ushered them into the warmly-lit Great Room, her friend was on them.

"What's going on?" she asked. "What's the big emergency?"

Elis stood from his spot on the long L-shaped couch to move closer. He looked at Delia first, then Michael. "You told her everything, didn't you?"

"Told her what? What are you talking about?" It was obvious Cassie had no clue what Eli was eluding to.

Michael answered Eli first. "Yes, she was made aware last week when my parents came to us that first night. They came again tonight to say they were leaving. One week they stayed, Eli. I don't like it."

It was what he'd been thinking the whole ride over. I don't like it. That and, something's not right with all this. It played over and over again in his head until the words lost all meaning and he was too busy looking over his shoulder—sometimes quite literally—to make sure they weren't being followed. Like Delia, actually, and he was pretty sure no one had been on their tail.

"Love, take a seat," Eli insisted, moving closer to Cassie. "I'm going to heat up some blood for all of us and we'll talk."

He went into the kitchen room with the lightning-quick reflexes of a vampire, and they could soon hear the sounds of the fridge opening and closing, and the microwaves sharp, staccato beeps.

Cass continued to look between Delia and Michael, her curiosity piqued as to what they could be hiding from her. She and her friend were close enough to be sisters, though neither had had one growing up.

When Eli came back into the room a couple of minutes later, he was carrying a dark tray full of warm cups of blood, and he offered his guests refreshments first.

Sitting down, he leaned forward in his chair and spoke to Michael. "Tell me everything."