Vampire's Soul

by Joey W. Hill

  He was kicking at Voltaire, best as he could with his legs bound, and screaming incoherently at Chavez. From the Goth's wide eyes, Cai was confirming all their theories about Trads, the crazed, live-in-the-woods vampires who refused all trappings of civility, who didn't take servants, who killed their human prey rather than sipping on them like wine at one of their fancy fucking dinners.

  You're not better than me, fucker. And you're going to be dead, really soon.

  They hit him, hard enough to break bones. No problem. He was a vampire, they'd heal. He could handle this, but he had to get loose. He had to. He couldn't be helpless again or he would just fucking lose it.

  Tyra was getting up and dusting off her taut ass, so he must have taken her down while rolling around with Voltaire.

  Then, amid all that, Rand's mind reached out to him, and it was...calm.

  Calm like quiet meadows and dark, starry nights. Cool breezes through thick fur, the soft call of an owl in the distance. He was in hunter mode. Still. Waiting. In control, even when that deadly ferocity waited, just below the surface.

  Which reminded Cai he was a goddamned hunter, too. He wasn't a scared kid, or a frightened victim. His gaze darted to the wolf's body. It was still inert on the litter, Rand seemingly unconscious. Pull your shit together, he told himself. You're embarrassing yourself in front of the wolf.

  My eyes are closed. Some grim humor, and a touch of seriousness, not just because of their situation but probably because Rand's wolf senses could tell how thin that layer of calm actually was for Cai. He couldn't get his mind off the bonds. He had to struggle, fight...

  Breathe with me in that world, vampire. The bindings on you don't mean anything there.

  Cai was going to tell him he didn't go for that New Age meditation bullshit, but truth, he was so spun up over feeling trapped, some part of him grabbed that calm voice and imagery like a life line. Even if Rand's tranquility were caused by groovy tranquilizer effects, Cai found himself trying to sync his breathing with Rand's as the male kept thinking that same mantra. Breathe with me. Bindings mean nothing.

  It gave him the room he needed. Cai struggled for control and calm. He'd had to contain all of it for so long, so many years, he could find it again. He just needed loose from these bonds, he just...

  Breathe. In time they'll release you. You know they will. Or we'll figure out a way to escape.

  Or you break loose from your bonds, I roll over them like a barbed log, and we go down in a blaze of glory.

  I think we should give Plan A a chance first.

  "Why do you assume that's not Plan A? I give you a great chance to end it all, and you wimp out on me now?

  Though wimp was not the word that came to mind, remembering Rand standing over him, a fully pissed wolf with death gleaming in his eyes and off his bared teeth.

  Cai could calm down. The wolf made it possible. But before he could prove it to anyone other than himself, he lifted his head to see Chavez holding Tyra's tranquilizer gun. He shot the rest of the load pointblank into Cai.

  They apparently mistook a tranquilizer for truth serum. After he and Cai were loaded into the van and on their way, the vampires took turns kicking and beating on Cai, asking him questions he never answered. Partly because he was in and out of consciousness, and partly because he had far more clever observations.

  Like about Chavez's nose rings, the hair product Voltaire used, or why Tyra shouldn't wear a push-up bra. No reason to pump up Mount Rushmore, right?

  Since Rand still felt like he was swimming in a fog soup, he admired the vampire's unrelenting smart-assery. He did use the gradual clearing of his mind to do some thinking about their situation, because it kept his mind off what they were doing to Cai that he couldn't stop. If he dwelled on that, his wolf would start struggling, which would help nothing.

  He reminded himself that Cai could handle the chance to talk trash with his captors, better than the vampire could handle the reality of his bindings. The male's panic and anger had been curious. He'd seemed to do better once they'd started beating on him in the van, as if the distraction kept him from focusing on what seemed to bother him more than the torment--being trapped and unable to call the shots.

  So though his human side was no less thrilled with what was happening to Cai, Rand forced himself to consider what options they had. He was sure Cai would have a smartass response to that.

  Cai obviously had a gift for pissing others off, but this seemed more than that. He pissed off Rand, but not to the point Rand wanted to tie him up, torture and drag him off to see a top guy who was probably going to do more and worse to him. He'd picked up the gist of that during the first part of the beatings.

  Holy God, could they get where they were going soon?

  They'd bound Rand in ropes, tying his legs and muzzle, and dumped him toward the rear of the roomy van. They'd run ropes from his bonds to handles embedded in the sides and back so he couldn't turn over or see what they were doing, which sucked. He had the strength to rip those handles loose, he was sure, but it would serve no purpose right now except maybe getting him darted again.

  If he shifted, it was likely he could get free even faster and do some damage. Still, it wouldn't be enough to give him good odds against three vampires in close quarters and their human servants, two of whom were following in another vehicle while the third one drove this van. Plus, at this point, they thought he was just a wolf. Cai could have told them he was a shifter, and he hadn't. Maybe because most vampires didn't believe shifters existed and Cai wanted to keep it that way. Or to leave it as an ace in the hole if it would come in handy for escape. Hard to know.

  At some later time, Rand would puzzle over why the vampire had stuck his neck out for him and given him repeated attempts to take off, no help requested.

  As for Rand being here, he'd already answered that. The good thing about his wolf side was it didn't analyze the crap out of things. Instinct had told him not to abandon Cai, so he hadn't. End of story. No great meaning, no need to analyze his feelings or his relationship with the vampire--and, er, fuckbuddy did not equal relationship. It was what it was. He didn't care if he himself lived or died, so why not tag along and see what was up with this? And yeah, maybe some of it was guilt, because when he'd gone after the Goth vampire, Cai had agreed to go along reasonably quietly if they didn't kill Rand.

  Rand figured out they'd driven out of the West Virginia mountains, bypassed a few smaller towns and ended up in horse country Virginia. Though his being tied down kept him from seeing anything out the windows except what was straight up--the dark sky--they were cracked and brought him the tempting scent of well-fed horses. He imagined they were traveling through an area filled with nice brick mansions on multi-acre spreads, the glossy horses grazing on lawns enclosed by wide white picket fences.

  At last, the sleek dark van bumped up the long driveway of one of the properties that didn't have horses. The lingering scent was there, but very old. When the van was brought to a halt, Chavez stepped over him and went out the back, leaving the double doors open. Rand saw a barn, which looked like it had been converted to living space, maybe guest quarters.

  He heard a muffled grunt as Cai was jerked out of the van and dumped unceremoniously on the asphalt. They did the same to Rand, leaving his legs and muzzle tied, Voltaire shoving his bruised ribs with his foot to flip him over. That was when Rand finally saw Cai.

  Ah, hell.

  The vampire was a bloody mess. They'd struck his face and body repeatedly, with fists or blunt objects. Pain was a raw, red throbbing heat coming off him. Bastards.

  It's all right. I'm a vampire. We're the best kind of punching bag. A blood meal and I'll heal right up. You okay?

  Except for tranquilizing and tying him up, they hadn't done much of anything to Rand. He wanted to say Yeah, good, but he couldn't verbalize, even in his mind. So he did it in wolf speak. He stretched out his bound muzzle and brushed it briefly against Cai's upper arm. The vampire turned his gaze to h
im, lingered there briefly.

  You're pretty impressive in that form, wolf. Try to tone down the gleam, so no one starts thinking about you as a fur coat.

  "I told you to get Lord Greenwald," Voltaire said sharply as Chavez returned from the house. The Goth was still favoring the shoulder and wearing the bloody, torn shirt, but he looked even paler than when Rand had attacked him. He jerked his head like he had a nervous tic, though it apparently was an indication someone was coming behind him.

  "The Council delegation arrived," he hissed in a whisper. "It's--"

  "Lady Lyssa," Tyra said in a tight tone of fear and respect. She dropped to one knee.

  Cai had laid back his head and closed bloody, swollen eyes, as if uncaring who was coming to look at him. But since Rand felt her even before he angled his face to see her, he looked.

  Vampires had a certain scent. So did Fae and shifters. She had some of all three scents, which was intriguing enough. But there was also a solid wall of power around this vampire. Chavez's panic, Tyra's reaction and Voltaire's sudden tension telegraphed it.

  All vampires were beautiful, and she was no exception. Long, straight dark hair, slightly Asian features, jade green eyes. Deceptively petite and slim-boned. Her head might reach Rand's chest. He wouldn't underestimate her based on her size. Not a chance with that power beating against his senses like a "realize she can kick your ass twelve ways to Sunday" wake up call.

  She was wearing a fitted skirt that stopped a couple inches above her knees, a silky blouse that clung attractively to small curves, and toothpick heels. She navigated the paved drive in them with as much grace and ease as a basketball player in athletic shoes.

  She had a male with her that Rand guessed was her servant. He had midnight blue eyes, russet-brown hair to his broad shoulders, and a muscular physique. He emanated the calm readiness of a veteran fighter.

  Two other vampires, one male and one female, accompanied Lady Lyssa. The male had cool, amber eyes and long copper-colored hair tied back. Compared to Lyssa and the other vampire, he seemed to project an old-world style, though his clothes were modern enough. Khakis, dress shirt, shiny shoes. The third vampire, the other female, had German features, a voluptuous body well-displayed in a classy outfit of slacks and blouse, and an equally steady brown gaze. Her blond hair was in a thick twist on top of her head.

  Servants accompanied them, too. The woman's was a big Viking-looking guy in a kilt. The copper-haired vampire's servant was a female with brown hair, delicate features, but who projected a strong will. She also seemed very interested and concerned about Rand, her lovely gray gaze resting on him, her brow furrowed. She had a kind heart and didn't like to see him bound this way, though she spared very little attention for Cai, seeming to avoid looking at him.

  It wasn't that she didn't care, Rand realized, taking a deeper scent. Violence and blood distressed her, stirred up some bad things. The copper-haired vampire's gaze had gone to her, picking it up, but she tightened her jaw and resolutely nodded. An I'm okay message. His expression softened slightly, but when he turned his attention back to their group, it was flat and unreadable.

  Like most fully mature adult vampires, all of them looked around thirty years old, but Lyssa felt ancient, and the other two vampires weren't far behind. None of these were fledglings. Neither were the three who had caught them, but now that Rand had a comparison, he knew Voltaire, Tyra and Chavez were much younger.

  Another vampire arrived then, one who didn't look cool and steady at all. He wore a white shirt, black jacket, and slacks. Despite the tailored elegance, he seemed disheveled. Maybe vampires couldn't do physically rumpled, so it only manifested internally. The outside said GQ. The inside vibrations said a guy in tatters, likely ripped by his own fists.

  At the sight of Cai, he leaped forward, hands curling into claws he set upon Cai to jerk him off the ground. Rand peeled back a lip. He'd kept his wolf contained, but under all the current stresses, that grip was getting more tenuous. Seeing yet another person hurting the vampire, his inner beast said it'd had enough.

  And then he got a break. Literally. One of the ropes snapped.

  It loosened the hold of the others. Rand thrashed his way out of the bonds, quick as a twisting snake, too fast for the others to react. The helpless anger and banked ferocity of the past few hours boiled forth, his wolf ready to tear something apart.

  While normally those tasty horses would take top billing, something else loomed larger in his mind. He had one goal, and he got right to it. He didn't have to think or plan. That was the beauty of being a wolf fueled up on a hundred percent high octane pissed-off.

  He hurled himself at the male vampire attacking Cai.

  Chapter Six

  "No...fuck..." Cai spat out. He was trying to get words past the choke hold the berserker vampire had on him when Rand landed on them both and sank his teeth into the attacking vampire's shoulder, same as he'd done with Chavez.

  Since the fucking wolf was a tank and pure muscle, Cai could only imagine the pressure of his jaws. The other male communicated the information graphically.

  This vampire was stronger than Chavez. He managed to throw Rand, but Rand was back on him like the duck on the proverbial June bug. Necessity had the vampire releasing Cai to grapple with the wolf. Their three captors moved in, shouting in alarm, eyes wide and worried. Cai would have been grimly satisfied by their troubles, but Rand was all wolf now, his mind in full attack, offense and defense mode. Both eyes were that lava gold color. Cai couldn't reach him with normal modes of logic. Fuck, they really were going to kill him this time.

  The idea filled him with such helpless rage, things connected to old pains, that he couldn't fucking bear it. He didn't care that the barbed wire had his nerve endings screaming in agony, and his head hurt from landing on it twice now--once when he was thrown from the van and second when this guy dropped him. He summoned all his energy and thundered out his reminder, because he was pretty sure it hadn't been memo'ed out to the Council delegation standing here.

  "Hurt the goddamn wolf, and you get nothing from me, you psychotic, bloodsucking, arrogant, shit-for-brains, assholes." He ran out of air to fuel the words, but not descriptive expletives. He finished them up in his head and took another breath. "Stop it. Stop hurting him. He doesn't understand, goddamn it."

  He'll keep fighting you, because the closer to death he is, the better he feels. Cai didn't question the tight feeling in his gut that came with the thought, but if they did irreparable harm to the wolf, he was going to take his own pound of flesh in retribution. If he could get out of this damned wire.

  He'd succeeded in drawing attention to himself. An order was barked and miraculously, Tyra, Voltaire and Chavez jumped back as if that hot stick had been used on them. They were replaced by the Viking-servant and the one with Lady Lyssa, the broad-shouldered male who'd been standing by Lady Lyssa.

  The Lady Lyssa. Even Trads and vampires who lived in the remote corners of the world knew who she was. If they didn't, her power signature alone would warn she was top of the psycho vampire pyramid. Last of the royal line of the Far East clan, over a thousand years old. Reputedly carrying Fae blood as well as vampire.

  He'd expected her to be taller. But even at five-foot nothing, the slim, elegant woman emanated power like a convoy of Mac trucks screaming down an interstate at a hundred miles per hour.

  Her servant was no lightweight, either. However, he and the other servant were having a hell of a time containing Rand. They'd thrown some of the rope back and forth to each other and used it to snug his head down, tie his feet. Unlike Voltaire and his two cronies, however, their entire goal seemed to be quelling the wolf's attack, not to harm or enrage him to the point the fight became uglier. Lady Lyssa's servant was even speaking quietly to Rand, as if to soothe him.

  That wouldn't work. Cai's lips twisted in grim satisfaction when the wolf snapped at the male's hand, latching on and tearing out a hunk of flesh. Cai tensed as the male swore creatively. B
ut he didn't retaliate, instead muttering, "Yeah, if I didn't see that coming, I deserved it."

  The other servant shot him a grin which he quickly lost as Rand almost nailed his forearm. The men left off their banter and concentrated harder on keeping the big wolf pinned down. Even tied, he was fighting like Godzilla taking Tokyo. Admiration surged inside Cai for his determination, but he'd better not let it get too far. Or the wolf might kill the two servants and they'd be back into execution-by-vampire territory. But Rand was still in there, because he seemed to recognize the difference between psychos like Chavez and the manage-and-contain strategies of the two servants. He was fighting, but not necessarily with lethal force.

  Which suggested though Rand had retreated back into his wolf, the second mark bond might have some pull. A leash the wolf might heed.

  Easy, Rand. They're not hurting me anymore. It's okay. Just relax. I have a feeling this is about to become a more manageable situation.

  "If you'll take this fucking thing off me and let me stand up, he'll be much better," Cai grated, tossing the comment to the vampire queen. "What, I'm going to bolt and cleverly conceal myself in acres of open field and horse shit? Or single-handedly attack your army of vampire thugs?"

  "Your wolf seems to embrace the idea," she observed. She had a voice that put sultry tags on every syllable. There was no apparent urgency to her, but she was an emotional wall. She could be having a panic attack and no one would be the wiser.

  "Yeah, well. Dumb animal. What can I say? He's all about foolhardy acts of honor. I'm about living to stab you in the back another day when the odds are all in my favor."

  He heard gasps from Tyra and a couple of the others, but really? He had anything to gain from sucking up when they were already kicking the shit out of him?

  "Take off the wire," Lady Lyssa instructed Chavez.

  She'd given Cai's thrown-out threat the weight he knew it carried. He could come on that female in bright daylight, with her in a full vampire sleep, and she'd still kill him before he was within ten feet of her. With or without the help of her servant, who was doing a pretty damn good job of sparring with the shifter.