The werewolves climbed off the stage, their movements sleek and stealthy. One, a tall blond, crouched by her side. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head. "I don't think so."
He gave her a reassuring grin and picked her up to set her on the edge of the stage. She swayed and he sat beside her so she wouldn't fall. She was grateful for his support.
Alexandre looked over as he stepped away from Cass. She gave him a shaky nod and a faint smile, which he returned. Sinjin and Quinn returned through the main door, their expressions troubled. Quinn shook his head at Alexandre and mouthed the word, "No," while Sinjin approached Sunni.
He dropped beside her and gave her a hard kiss on the temple. "You fool," he hissed. He dropped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a bone-crushing hug. "Will you never learn to think before you leap?"
"No," she mumbled against his shirt.
"I was coerced into doing this tonight." Alexandre was speaking to the restless crowd. "Cass' plan was to announce a union between her and me as her greatest desire has always been to lead the Council of Elders. As most of you know, she joined with Mikhail to overthrow the Council. When that bid failed, you can see how she's tried to worm her way back into her former position of power."
His gaze swept the crowd, lighting on Sunni for a mere moment before continuing. "She injected a vampire with the serum two days ago, hoping to blackmail me into announcing our union. But that plan backfired when, with the help of a human, we tried a complete blood transfusion to delay, possibly reverse some of the effects. Of course, now that we have the antidote, never again will we be held hostage by such a threat."
Alexandre turned to face Cass. "Seven months ago, I decreed that you would be put to death for your treason upon the Council. Your actions in the past few weeks have only reinforced the fact that you're a danger to the Shadow Dwellers and our way of life. You've caused the deaths of countless innocents and, for that, it's long past time your sentence is carried out."
Finally, he can put his demons to rest and reaffirm his position as the Head of the Council.
A slender young woman appeared carrying a sword. Light glinted off the deadly blade as she offered it to Alexandre.
He accepted it and Sunni caught the scent of Cass' fear as he approached her.
"By order of the Council, I hereby sentence you to death," Alexandre said. "Do you have any last words?"
"This is not over."
"Ah, but it is for you."
"Go to hell," she spat.
"You first. Where I'm sending you, never again will you harm another innocent. In death, may you find the peace that you never had in life." He raised the sword.
"Stop."
A ripple went through the crowd as a figure clad in white approached. Sunni's eyes widened when she saw Mambo Cecile. Her skin resembled café au lait against the blinding white of her dress. Her dark eyes were fixed on Cass, her expression triumphant.
"She is mine." The priestess tore her gaze from the vampire. "I am Mambo Cecile."
Alexandre lowered the sword. "Should I know you?"
She laughed, clapping her hands as if his words were no more than she'd expected. "No, white man, you would not know me for I inhabited New Orleans long before you set foot in America. The only thing you need to know is that I aided your woman in her journey with the gris-gris she now holds so dear."
Sunni forced herself to release the little bag when Alexandre looked at her.
Mambo Cecile nodded toward Cass. "She and I, we have a long past." She smiled and this time it wasn't pleasant. "You remember me, don't you, my pretty?"
The captive vampire didn't move, seemingly struck dumb, but her eyes revealed her terror. Faint sounds emanated from her throat.
Cecile looked around the room, her gaze centering on Maeve. "Witch, I ask that you release her."
Maeve's brow raised and she looked to Alexandre, who nodded imperceptibly. Maeve stepped forward and murmured a few words, then raised her hands in a gesture like the breaking of a twig followed by a brushing motion. Cass tumbled forward, her hands out to break her fall. The spell was broken.
Mambo Cecile spoke. "Many years ago, you destroyed my family, and for what? The love of a man who betrayed you. When Robert found out how you killed my family, he killed himself. When I found his body hanging in the smokehouse, his throat covered in bites and his body nearly drained of blood, I swore I'd have my revenge on you."
"Voodoo whore." Cass rose to her knees. "You will have nothing from me-"
Cecile drew a rag doll from her voluminous dress. Sunni saw a shock of dark hair on the doll's head before Cecile began circling Cass, waving the doll over the vampire's head. She muttered under her breath and the occupants of the room retreated, assuring the Voodun Mambo plenty of room.
Alexandre stepped back as she neared him.
Cass hissed and raised to her feet, reaching for Cecile. "You have no power over me. I will destroy you-"
Cecile tossed the rag doll at her but Cass caught it, a look of triumph on her face. "See? Your rag doll has no power at all." She flung her arm as if to toss it aside, yet the doll remained where it was, safe in her hand. She stared at the creation, her expression disturbed. With her free hand, she grabbed the head and tried to pull it loose.
Her expression turned horrified as she realized that both hands were now stuck. "What have you done?"
Cecile smiled. "No-ting. I have no power over you, 'member?" She raised her hand as if to blow a kiss and the doll erupted into flames.
Sunni cringed, reaching once more for the gris-gris as flames raced along Cass' arms, engulfing her in mere seconds. Flames charred her skin and licked her hair as the stench of burning flesh filled the club. Most of the vampires fled the bar, opting for the humid New Orleans night rather than to witness the demise of one of their own, even though she was evil.
An unearthly shriek erupted from her burning mouth as she fell to the ground. Within moments, the fire died, leaving only charred bones and ashes. The skull wobbled on the polished floor, the sound hollow as Sunni's stomach turned.
"It's done," Cecile pronounced, turning her attention to Alexandre. "The curse has been broken and you've rid your world of her. There will be more, but you know that, don't you? Know that others will line up to take that which is rightfully yours by birthright - both your vocation and your love." She smiled and tipped her head to indicate Sunni. "You are wort-y, white man, she loves you."
Sunni felt his gaze on her, but she couldn't tear her eyes from Cecile. "How did you-"
The priestess waved her words away as she approached. "Daughter of light, have patience with this one." She nodded at Alexandre. "He loves you, yet he still believes himself unworthy. Bah! Stupid man." She cupped her hands under Sunni's chin and pressed a kiss between her brows. "You, my child, are more blessed than you'll ever know."
A warm breeze flicked across her skin and Cecile vanished, leaving only a scent of herbs. Sunni released her grip on the gris-gris to pull the cord from her neck. Opening the now-cool silk, she scattered the powdered contents on the floor knowing that its power was spent.
* * *
Epilogue
She loved this place.
The shop was immaculate, probably clean for the first time since Cecile's death many years before. She set the broom against the wall, taking in the freshly painted walls of pale green and the sheen of the polished floors. The energy was good here, and, with what she had in mind, it would improve. And she knew in her heart that Mambo Cecile would be happy with her plans.
"Miles escaped with the diary."
Sunni turned to see her lover standing in the doorway leading to the street, his expression haunted.
"I'm sorry. I know how much you need it."
He stepped inside, his tight jaw, the only outward expression of his frustration. "That diary might spell the end of us all."
She nodded. "It might."
"And I came close to blowing it."
"But y
ou didn't."
"I did." His voice increased in volume. "Twelve people died. You could have been next."
Sunni stepped beside him. "But I didn't. The antidote is working. I feel fine."
He stared blindly out the front window. "There have been so many times I've wanted to walk away from the Council. I should..."
"But you won't."
"Like hell I won't."
She smiled and touched his arm, forcing him to face her. "No, you won't. It's who you are, Alexandre, a leader. The Shadow Dwellers need a strong leader and that person is you. You could never walk away while we need you."
He made a disparaging sound.
"While I need you."
His gaze met hers.
"I don't care what Mambo Cecile said." His voice was hoarse. "I don't deserve you."
She grinned and stretched on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck. "That might be, but I deserve you and I mean to keep you."
He brushed his lips over hers. "Let's go home."
"Sounds good to me."
They linked hands and strolled to the door.
"What are you going to do with the building?"
She paused in the doorway, scanning the cheerful room before her gaze fixed on an oil painting she'd found in the back room. A small brass plate read:
Mambo Cecile
1884 - 1930
Her painted smile was self-satisfied.
"Oh, that reminds me." She crossed the room, reaching into her pocket. Beneath the portrait, a small oak shelf held a seven-day prayer candle that still burned. She pulled a gold coin out of her pocket and placed it on the shelf beside the candle. An offering of thanks to Mambo Cecile.
Oh yes, she'd be pleased indeed.
Sunni turned away and headed for the door. "I'm thinking of opening another shop. This one would encompass transcendental meditation, Reiki, Kempo and a few other things. Maybe I can turn it into the metaphysical center in the South."
Alexandre alternated between a laugh and a groan as she closed the door, locking its secrets inside.
* * *
One With The Hunger
Book I: The Shadow Dwellers
J. C. Wilder
Copyright © 1998 Lisa Hamilton
Previously published by Dreams Unlimited.
Cover Art by Emily Black
Cover Art copyright © 2001
Published in Canada by LTDBooks, 200 North Service Road West, Unit 1, Suite 301, Oakville, ON L6M 2Y1 [www.ltdbooks.com]
All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher is an infringement of the copyright law.
National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data
Wilder, J. C., 1965-
One with the hunger [computer file]
ISBN 1-55316-070-3
I. Title.
PS3623.I45O54 2001 813'.6 C2001-902072-4
Dedication
For those who dare to dream...
Chapter 1
"I think you should take a lover."
Shai paused, her baked potato-filled fork poised in mid-air. She stared aghast across the table at her friend. "Excuse me?"
"Ohhh, yes," breathed Melanie, "tall, dark and handsome." She twirled a lock of icy blonde hair around her forefinger and fell back against her chair, a smile curving her full mouth. "And rich, of course."
"I think it's a wonderful idea, if I do say so myself." Vivian, the instigator of the conversation, leaned forward, her elbows on the pristine white tablecloth. The stub of a Spanish cigarillo burned between her fingers as she pointed at Shai. "Just what you need to get out of your rut." The rich smoke from the imported cigarette drifted lazily around her head then vanished, vanquished by the efficient air conditioning in the restaurant.
"I wasn't aware I was in a rut," Shai said pointedly.
Vivian rolled her beautiful blue eyes and looked at her as if she were, at the very least, a dimwitted child. "Well, of course you don't see it, dear, that's what your friends are for... to point out these things."
"Even if I don't ask you to," Shai muttered.
Erihn ignored her. "Why do you think we bought that outfit for your birthday?" She waved her speared shrimp in Shai's direction. "Vivian said we had to prime the pump, so to speak."
Shai glanced at the new clothes she wore. Granted, the clothing that had appeared in a beautifully-wrapped package on her doorstep earlier in the afternoon weren't her normal cup of tea. The short, black velvet skirt, long- sleeved black silk blouse and brilliant emerald green silk jacket weren't bad. In fact, they looked lovely on her, she admitted shyly.
Before tonight she would never have dreamed of wearing such a revealing ensemble. She had to fight the urge to tug down the skimpy skirt every time she moved. She'd never worn anything in public that only covered her to mid-thigh; it simply wasn't proper. But it wasn't the clothing that worried her; it was the lingerie that had accompanied the gift.
"I'll bet she isn't wearing them," Jennifer, a dark-haired, sloe-eyed woman, speculated.
"Think so?" Vivian stubbed out her cigarette. "Enlighten us, little Shai. Are you wearing the naughty underwear Jen and I picked out?"
"That's rather personal." Shai stalled, setting down her fork with a clang before reaching for her wineglass. The deep burgundy resembled blood inside the Irish crystal. In the dim lighting of the restaurant, the liquid glowed and shimmered as if lit from within.
She took a hesitant sip, her mind scrambling for an excuse for not wearing the deliciously sexy lingerie. Too small, maybe? No, Jennifer would see right through that one. Damn! She wished they'd not gone shopping together last week. She set her glass down once more.
Maybe she could say a panty raid had occurred while she was in the shower. Or armed guerillas had entered her apartment and stolen them at Uzi-point.
"Looks like you're right. She isn't wearing them." Melanie untangled her hair from her finger and returned her attention to her plate.
"I'm not sure why I put up with you guys," Shai grumbled. She picked up her fork and stuffed the now-cold bite of potato in her mouth, chewing as she glared at her four friends.
"Because we're family in every way that counts," Erihn answered matter-of-factly. "And you love us."
Jennifer grinned like a well-fed Cheshire cat. "That still doesn't answer the question. Are you wearing the naughty bits Viv and I bought for you?"
Shai felt the blush heating her cheeks. While she'd been delighted with the clothing her friends had picked out, the lingerie was intimidating for someone who'd religiously worn plain white cotton all her life.
The black lace demi-bra and matching thong had lain on the bed until the very last minute. As she was getting ready for the evening, she'd kept glancing at the lingerie, torn between her desire to don it and her wish that it would vanish into thin air. In the end, she'd relented.
Sitting in the trendy New York restaurant wearing an outfit and lingerie that would have cost her a week's pay, Shai felt truly free for the first time in her life. She shifted in her seat, her bottom bare against the black silk half- slip. The whisper of black-seamed thigh highs felt foreign and sexy against her skin.
"Yes, I am." She slapped her fork down on the table with a thump. "And I like it."
"Bravo, darling." Viv raised her glass in a mock salute.
"I suspected as much." Jennifer shrugged out of her black velvet bolero- style jacket to reveal gleaming porcelain skin and a tiny black leather bustier. "Maybe I should take another lover," she commented to no one in particular.
"Wore out Marcel already?" Melanie asked. She picked up her glass of wine and finished it off.
"That's the problem with men today." Vivian reached for a new cigarette from Melanie's pack. "No stamina."
Erihn swallowed a gasp as she ducked her head. Her face half-hidden by a wing of rich brown hair, she bu
sied herself with digging a chunk of crabmeat out of a claw. "More ginseng? Powdered deer antler?"
"It would be hard for anyone to keep up with you, Viv dear. How many days a week do you go to the gym?" Melanie asked.
"Three." With a flick of a gold lighter, she lit a fresh cigarette. "I can crush a tin can between these thighs."
"Is that why you go through so many men? You crush them to death?" Melanie teased.
Shai glanced at Vivian. "And this is a good thing...how?"
"Maybe Viv is into recycling," chortled Erihn.
Vivian eyed Erihn's Rubenesque figure. "It wouldn't hurt you to go once in a while."
"Oh no, not me." Erihn caught the waitress's attention and waved her hand at the empty wine bottles to show that they needed another one. "What would I do with a man?"
A tender look entered Vivian's eyes. She reached over and brushed Erihn's hair away from her face. Her nimble fingers lightly traced the scar that marred the young woman's cheek.
A madman in Central Park had ended Erihn's budding modeling career seven years ago. In broad daylight, he'd grabbed her as she'd left a photo shoot. He'd kidnapped and terrorized her for three long, agonizing days before the police had caught up with him. She'd escaped with her life and a horrendous scar that would forever mar her face. But it wasn't the exterior scars that concerned her friends, it was the ones hidden deep inside they worried about. To this day, Erihn refused to speak of the incident that had forever changed her life.
"I think you're perfect the way you are," Vivian murmured.
Tears glittered in Erihn's deep brown eyes. "Thanks."
Shai felt the tears stinging her own eyes. This was why she loved these women. Because they were family in the ways that counted the most. They were there when they needed one another and even when they didn't. For the past two years, they'd laughed and cried together, sharing their lives as only they could with other women. In a silent toast to her friends, she picked up her glass and drank.
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 5 Page 13
