Blood Draw: Book Two of the Blood Type Series (complete)

The Compeller

It was close to midnight when I heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up to the curb. Dashing to the front window, I parted the curtain to see who it was. "They're back!" I cried at the sight of the familiar car.

One of the back doors opened and Bridget swung her short legs around. I could see that she was laughing. John exited from the other side. He was laughing, too, but he raised his hand and smiled when he saw my face pressed against the window. Then the front passenger door opened, and I found myself holding my breath, rooted to the spot as I waited for the mystery vampire to make an appearance.

Hannah was tall and slight, with skin the color of cream that seemed to radiate under the light of the crescent moon. A thicket of dark hair cascaded down her back. She said something that made both Bridget and John laugh even louder.

"Whoa," Olivia said as she peered over my shoulder.

"She's lovely," Ian added, budging in on the other side. "How did John ever manage to score a woman like her?"

"You do see me standing here, right?" I said, though even I was unable to tear my eyes from the newest arrival.

"Look at her shoes," Olivia added wistfully.

It was stupid of me to feel nervous—or jealous, for that matter—about having Hannah here. So what if she and John had been involved? As Compellers, their current relationship was strictly professional. Nevertheless, I quickly unfurled the knot of hair at my neck so that my own curly locks spilled down my back. I wished I had thought to change my clothes or put on some mascara and lip gloss, but I'd opted for comfort over style. Hannah, on the other hand, was dressed in what appeared to be skin-tight designer jeans, cute little ankle boots, and a camel-colored blazer tailored perfectly to fit her tall, lean frame. Yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt had obviously been a mistake.

The front door swung open and John sought me out immediately, sighing as his arms wound round my waist. He pulled me close, and all my fear and insecurity was instantly alleviated.

"How was the drive?" I asked.

"Bridget would not stop talking," he said with an impressive eye roll. "But, overall, it was a success."

"I'm glad you're home," I said. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." Taking my hand, John led me to the cluster of vampires surrounding the newcomer. "Blake, I'd like you to meet Hannah."

She grasped my outstretched hand in greeting and tilted her head to the side, the better to appraise me it seemed. Then she turned to John and grinned. "You sneaky little devil," she said with what seemed to be admiration. "You left out one very important detail to the story."

"Hannah," Andrew said, his voice sharp. "Now is not the time to talk—"

The vampire's eyes widened, as did her smile. "You mean she doesn't know?" she said, turning to Andrew. "What a delightful little scandal we have here."

"What is she talking about?" I said to John, but he looked just as confused as I did.

Andrew stepped in again. "Hannah, we must speak in—"

"You're a Compeller," she said to me, not allowing him to finish. "Or you will be, once you realize your gift."

Olivia gasped. "No fair!"

I stared blankly at Hannah as her words sunk in. "I'm not a Compeller."

She turned to Andrew and John once again, her eyes narrowing in accusation. "Believe me, you are. What I'm wondering is why no one thought to inform you."

"I had no idea," John said, hands raised in a gesture of innocence.

"Of course you didn't," she said. "I forgot just how young and utterly clueless you are."

She turned on Andrew then and tapped her closed lips with her finger as though trying to work out a complicated puzzle. "But you, Mr. Larsen. You are a Seeker. If she was intended to be a Donor, as was previously explained to me, surely you smelled the promise in her blood even when she was still a human."

I went to the couch and sat down, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. There was no way this Hannah person, this vampire I'd known for less than five minutes, could be telling the truth. "Assuming you're right—"

"I am."

"Assuming you're right," I continued, "does Mr. Abernathy know what I am? He didn't say anything to me about it."

"The scent is faint, but it's there. In time, even the youngest vampires will know what you are."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed in exasperation as she came to sit on the couch next to me. "Didn't anyone explain this to you?" She shook her head as she answered her own question. "Of course not. Apparently, John didn't know, and for some reason one of the region's best Seekers didn't think to clue you in." She took a deep breath and focused her attention on me. "A distinctive odor is every Compeller's calling card. It alerts other vampires that we are not to be trifled with, much the same way poisonous creatures are often brightly colored. Some of us are more deadly, for lack of a better term, than others. As for Conrad Abernathy, I'm certain he is aware of what you are."

I turned to John. "You really didn't know?"

"I swear I didn't."

Hannah dismissed the issue with a wave of her hand. "Nice boots," she said to Olivia, as though seeing her for the first time.

Olivia beamed. "Thanks! I love yours, too."

"We should go shopping together sometime."

"Yeah! Totally."

"Can we please stay on track," I said, not amused that the new vampire in town was already moving in on my best friend.

"No harm done," Hannah said to the rest of us. "Blake would have figured it out sooner than later."

She looked around at the lot of us then, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "Your first step to winning this battle is to make sure you stay at least one step ahead of Conrad Abernathy. If he knows Blake is a Compeller, which no doubt he does, he likely has plans for her and is simply biding his time. If you didn't see that move coming from a hundred miles away, you are all a sorry bunch of fools."

"There is no need to rub salt in their wounds," Bridget scolded.

"Did you know?" I asked the little vampire.

"I had my suspicions," she replied, turning her guileless blue eyes on me. "As Hannah said, there is a faint scent marking you as such."

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

Her narrow shoulders rose and fell. "For your sake, I hoped I was wrong."

I didn't understand what she meant by that, but I didn't press her meaning. "So now what?"

"Well, I suppose someone must teach you how to compel," Hannah said. "Most Compellers don't have the benefit of an instructor and instead blunder on their own until they get the hang of it. That takes time, however, and time is what we lack. Considering the only other powerful Compeller in the area is Margaret Abernathy, I think we can safely rule her out as being a viable option."

"John could teach me," I suggested.

"No offense to John, but his ability to compel is the equivalent of parlor tricks."

"He's not as inexperienced and weak as you make him out to be," I replied, barely tempering my anger on John's behalf. Hannah had rubbed me the wrong way from the moment she stepped out of the car, and intuition told me we weren't going to be easy friends. Or friends at all.

Hannah laughed, a deep-throated sound that made the fine hairs prickle on my arms. "Oh, Blake. Everyone has a weakness," she said. "John's just happens to be his heart."

*****

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