Bloodbound: The Alliance
Chapter 22 - 26

Chapter 22: Chapter 26

Avara POV.

I wake to pain pounding my head. My throat is parched. And I’m starving.

I drag my eyes open, strains of light filtering through. I ease up, trying to settle on my elbows. My delayed senses prevent me from realizing I’m not alone. I jolt upright. Kelsey’s hands fly to her shoulders before she places one of them on her heart and extends the other to me.

"Whoa, it’s me. It’s only me."

I flop back down, closing my eyes, pasting my hand on my sizzling forehead.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Images flit through my mind. Fragments of memories.

"Here."

She nears the bedside table, and that’s when I see she has an assortment arranged on the bedside table.

Kelsey hands me a glass of water and a white pill. "Aspirin."

I take it eagerly, downing it with the water.

Then she picks up a side plate with a loaded sandwich on top.

"Breakfast sandwich, eggs, bacon, lettuce, tomatoes. The good stuff."

I give her a longing look. "I don’t deserve you." I take the plate, munching down on the one half, followed by an even larger bite. "So good."

She seats herself on the edge of the bed, interrogating me with her eyes. "Whilst you stuff your face. Nod, if you remember going out with Landen last night."

I nod regrettably, taking another mouthful to keep myself from speaking.

"You remember drinking?"

I lower the plate to my lap, swallowing what’s left in my mouth. "Once. One time. One round. I figured I’d be a complete lightweight, but how can I go out like that after just one round? Shots, I think. I just don’t know what was in them."

She looks at me with worrisome consideration. "Do you remember what followed?"

Glimpses. Dancing silhouettes. Strong hands. Flashing lights.

"Barely."

"You nearly spoke about Botan."

I erect, and the plate nearly falls off. I return it to the bedside table.

She nods theatrically. "Yeah, you didn’t give a name or description. Thankfully, you were vague, and you’re lucky that Silas stopped your dad from asking more about it."

I wash my face with my hands, freeing a pent-up breath. "Where are they?"

"Finally got Silas out of the house cause he had errands to run, but he kept checking up on you." She gives me this reproachful but relieved look. "You’ve been asleep for nearly thirteen hours. Why the hell would you go alone with Landen?"

The twinge in my head throbs, incapable of conceiving a lie. "I don’t know. But it’s not his fault... he didn’t force me to do anything. He persuaded me and I gave in... I don’t remember what, but I remember how it felt."

"How did it feel?"

A long pause.

"Liberating. A moment without the expectations and scrutiny of being who I am and the clean-cut visage my life presents. I never knew how draining the standard I’ve been forced to uphold was until that moment. Once that weight was off."

"You deal with a lot of publicity. Everyone thinks you’re this perfect, kind-hearted saint. And what makes it even more annoying is that it’s true."

I smile weakly. "You more than anyone know how untrue that is."

"Every saint was a sinner; and sinner a saint."

I rest my head against my pillow. "My dad..."

She puffs out a laugh, only to cut it short. "Yeah, imagine his surprise when his perfect princess crawled out of a bugatti wasted. I’d ask how the ride was, but I doubt you’d remember."

I bend over, drawing my knees to my chest, burying my face in my hands.

"Do you know where he is?"

"Yeah, he came in to check on you before he left this morning. He said he’s running through meetings all day at his office. Doesn’t know when he’ll be back."

I wince, looking around for my phone. "I need to talk to him."

"How about I run you a nice, soothing bath whilst you finish your sandwich? He’s not going anywhere, just like the smell your body is carrying."

I pull a face, and she sends one right back. She leaves and I work on finishing the sandwich, only now noticing that I’m still in my dress from last night. An hour passes before I’m washed and dressed in loungewear, a cream oversize jersey that falls off my shoulder with a pair of white shorts.

"Where’s Luciano?" she asks, draping herself over the idle chair in the corner. "Haven’t seen him in a while."

"My father sent him to represent him at a conference. He’s acting as a proxy."

I take up my phone, calling my dad’s secretary cause he never answers his phone when he’s at the office. After a few short rings, an energetic voice chimes through.

"Hey, Rachel, it’s Avara."

"Miss Du Pont," she chirps like a songbird. "What can I do for you?"

"Is my dad in? I wanted to surprise him with these pastry pies he loves from his favorite bistro."

"Oh, he’s not here. He hasn’t been in today. He has other private appointments. But if you’re looking for him, I can—"

"No, don’t tell him I called," I say quickly. "Forget about it. I’ll just talk to him tonight."

Kelsey looks over at me, lifting a suspecting brow.

He lied. Why would he lie? And what private appointments?

"Avie. What’s going on, you okay?"

Why would he lie?

"Avie."

I’m going to regret this...one day. But not today.

I call another number, one I never thought I’d contact.

After an interlude of intermittent beeps. A voice breaks through.

"Mansfield."

"It’s me."

"Yeah, that tells me nothing."

I smile faintly. "Avara, genius."

"Avara," he says with a breath of surprise. "You called?"

"You predicated I would."

Kelsey sits up on the chair. "Who are you talking to?"

I turn my back on her. "I know you’re a former detective, thus you don’t have access to the department’s resources. But do you know how to... track a phone like its current location?"

"All I need is a number."

I nod. "I’ll send it in a sec."

I end the call, whirling around to see a shock-stricken Kelsey.

"I’ll explain, but I need you to do me a favor. I promise I’ll tell you everything when I get back." I text him my dad’s number. "But I need you to do what Sarah did for me."

She narrows her eyes at me, blinking dramatically. "You do realize I’m black, right?"

"Yes—"

"And you’re white. Direct opposites. We look nothing alike."

"I just need your body," I shout over her.

She gives me a mischievous look. "Avara."

"I need you to pretend to be me, sleeping. Just keep the covers over you and no one will be the wiser. So when Silas comes to crack the door open to check on me again. Which I know he’ll do. He’ll see a sleeping lump and move on."

A notification pings. A precise location.

Kelsey gives me an up-to-my-limit look, but she still bends over to undo her sneakers.

"Anything else while we’re still at it?"

"Definitely. I need the keys to your car."

***

I’ve been following him the whole day. And he has done nothing suspicious. He has met up with a local priest whose church he donates to. And two business associates that I recognise.

Night falls like an oil spill across the sky.

"Where are you now?"

"On the other side of the city," I report back, still tailing my father. A few cars away from the distinct black Merćedes. "Miles off from his office. He told Kelsey that he was going to be in the office the whole day, but his secretary said otherwise."

"Why lie about that? Why not just say that he has outside meetings?"

"Because he knew I wouldn’t verify his story."

The Benz makes another left turn at an intersection.

"I got nothing so far. He has met with people I even know. And right now, he’s been driving in circles for the last forty minutes. It doesn’t make sense."

"Probably trying to make sure he’s not being followed."

"I’m keeping my distance. There’s no way he could’ve spotted me."

"Probably just procedure."

A nip of irritation tugs my brows together. "You make it sound like he’s going somewhere he doesn’t want to be found."

"You tell me."

Another random left term. I’m even starting to get nauseous.

"I got nothing here. I’ll call you when I got the opposite."

"Nah, keep the call going," Simon insists. "I want to make sure you’re safe."

"Safe?" I repeat with a nervous laugh. "I’m following my dad?"

"And by the sound of it, he doesn’t want to be followed."

I almost choke on air. "He’s still my dad. Even if that’s the case, it’s not like he’d hurt me?"

"All I’m saying—"

"I’ll call you when I have something."

I end the call, throwing the phone on the passenger seat. I focus ahead. Another half an hour goes by and they are still driving in circles, my mind on the brink of insanity. But I endure. Two hours of senseless driving until finally, the car starts slowing down. I pull to the kerbside. The Benz parallel parks into a parking spot before Frank exits. He climbs out to open my father’s door. They trade nods and he leaves. Frank leaves my father alone on the sidewalk. My dad turns and strides straight into a restaurant.

I rush out of the car, closing the door and locking the car as I hurry to the restaurant. I draw on my hood, slipping the keys inside my jacket pocket. I linger outside, peering into the window with my back angled towards the glass, only throwing clandestine looks behind me.

My father’s rear recedes further.

My sense of disbelief is suspended from the moment I enter, assaulted by sound and light from its provocative LED and neon-lit entrance. I enter the restaurant, keeping my head down, slowly approaching the back. A neon-lit immersive space with a large central kitchen, smoking grills with a potent Japanese aesthetic and ambiance.

My father goes out back. I follow.

The chef hollers from behind the grill. Angst-ridden servers scurry in and out of the kitchen. Not paying attention to him or me. My dad exits through a side door. I wait a few moments before I open it by a hairline, enough to see his back. Completely unaware of me. I slip out of the narrow gap and I follow him down the alley. He rounds the corner. I accelerate my pace—an arm locks around my throat, caging me in their vice-like grip. Terror crashes through me as I try to claw their arm off, a futile effort.

He frees me. I swivel around. Another swings something and the impact renders my whole world black.