The Bloodline War Read Online Free PDF Page A

Mürk, born eleven months apart, came of age at twenty-six, was the year to set his scheme in motion.
    If women with the correct bloodlines could be acquired.
    More easily said than done, apparently, what with the way their missions had been going pear-shaped of late. First, Tëer and Däce had failed to obtain that fifteen-year-old girl, and now Mürk and Rën had made a dog’s dinner out of nabbing Toni. Taking her should’ve been a doss of a task, as well, since she’d been nearly unconscious in a hospital bed. When the detectives Raymond kept on permanent assignment watching Toni had informed him of the poor girl’s unfortunate car accident, Raymond decided straight away that this was the perfect time to take her. And now Mürk and Rën had bodged it. By God, Raymond would be a bloody codger before he saw his first grandchild born.
    He looked up from his drink at Pändra again, the skin across his cheeks taut. “What do my detectives have to say about this? I imagine my chaps saw something.”
    “Yes,” Pändra said. “I checked with Mr. Perkins and Mr. Rathburn before coming to speak with you.”
    Raymond arched a single eyebrow. Smart girl . “And?”
    Pändra glanced down at her clipboard. “Perkins said there were seven men total at the hospital, although it appears only four actually got into a row with Mürk and Rën; one man was dragged out injured and unconscious, I imagine due to our lads. Two men,” she glanced up “—and here’s the important part—had black eyes and tribal tattoos.” She lowered her clipboard. “By the way Perkins and Rathburn described the tats, they sound like the same as Mum’s.”
    Raymond snorted elegantly. “That would make the two men Om Rău.”
    Pändra shrugged noncommittally.
    Raymond frowned over that. “Ұavell is supposed to be the last of that breed.” The rest of the Om Rău race, it was rumored, had killed each other off. Hardly surprising, that. They were such ghastly creatures.
    “I can’t be sure, of course. I didn’t see the tats myself.” Pändra shifted from foot to foot.
    He took a sip of his drink. His daughter’s feet must be near wrecked in those ridiculous shoes.
    “Mürk and Rën will have to confirm it.”
    “Well, I shan’t be waiting for those two dimmocks.” He set down his glass. “Best I go have a little chat with your mum.” Lord, the very thought soured his stomach. He preferred to have contact with that woman only when it was his turn to impregnate her, and that was about as much of a lark as doing the business with a leaf shredder. And probably gave him about as many injuries. “Am I correct in assuming that your neglect to mention Toni’s whereabouts indicates that no one has the remotest idea where she is?”
    Pändra fidgeted again; maybe she was wearying of her role as the bearer of bad news. “Perkins said he and Rathburn followed the getaway van for a good half hour, but the blokes eventually lost them.”
    As I suspected . He was surrounded by incompetents. He headed for the study door. “When the lads get home,” he told his daughter as he passed her, “send them to me straight away.”
    Pändra blank-faced the request.
    She must have realized that the poor chaps would be enjoying one of his more inventive castigations.
    * * *
    Kimberly Stănescu jammed her thumb into the remote control button, flipping channels quickly and aggressively, her jaw set. She wasn’t watching anything on the television, just waiting for her husband to finally get his butt home. Outside her living room window sunlight was fading into dusk—or rather, the huge stadium lights mounted on the cave ceiling that passed for this underground community’s version of sunlight were dimming.
    At last! She heard the distinctive clomp of her husband’s Timberland hiking boots on the walkway outside.
    The front door swung open and Sedge came inside, tossing his duffle bag negligently into a corner of the foyer. “Hey,” he said.
    She hey’d