The Vampire King’s Virgin (The Vampire King Series #4)

by T. S. Ryder

  Mack knew that well enough–the gorillas were always peaceful in the zoo, but she had watched enough nature documentaries to know that gorillas were gentle creatures most of the time, but would fight to the death in defending each other. Especially silverbacks defending their mates. Her trembling increased.

  "Oliver, please. This isn't how it's supposed to be. You can protect me by staying with me, finding a place to hide where they can't find us."

  His eyes softened and he pulled her tight against him. "There isn't anywhere to hide except that one place in the atrium. I'm sorry, Mack. But you will go there, and I will take care of the intruders. Now go and call the marshal. With luck, we won't have to deal with them at all."

  Mack knew it wasn't going to do any good to argue, and they were wasting precious time. Yanking on her panties, she ran to Oliver's office. She phoned the chopper first; she got voicemail, and briefly explained what was happening while pleading for them to come right away. Next, she phoned Meyer.

  "Bertha?" His voice was incredulous when he answered. "Mack, I mean. I didn't expect—"

  "Some of Gedge's men attacked us," she interrupted, her muscles bunched and tense. "We managed to fight them off, but we think there are more coming. You have to come get us."

  Meyer was silent.

  "Tom? Tom, did you hear me?"

  "Yeah, I heard you. I was just about to phone you, Bertha."

  Mack closed her eyes, praying for patience. "Whatever it is you want to tell me—"

  "Your situation is worse than you think. I just got the word. Gedge escaped from prison."

  Chapter Eight

  A day passed, quiet and still. Oliver kept her by his side as he moved through the house, closing every window and door. He cranked the heat up so high that eventually Mack had to fill the little hidey-hole in the atrium with things from the freezer and stay there. Despite the temperatures, Oliver was never sweating whenever he came to check on her.

  "They'll have a harder time than I will navigating the house with these temperatures," he explained when she asked about it. "But I need you to stay cool and hydrated. Do you have enough water?"

  Mack nodded. Down in the hole with a flashlight, she was tense and anxious, but with all the frozen produce and water bottles, she was managing to stay quite cool. She grasped Oliver's hand in hers, refusing to cry–if there was running and fighting to do later, she couldn't waste any precious moisture now.

  "Do you think Gedge will come himself?" Would he make her watch him kill Oliver, or would he put a bullet in her brain, like he did with her boss?

  "I don't know. I hope so." Oliver curled his lips back; both upper and lower canines were huge in comparison to his incisors. "I'll kill him one way or another."

  Mack shivered. "Oliver, please—"

  "I'll do my best not to die, too." He brushed a finger along her jaw. "But you have to realize… you are the most important thing to me right now. Here," he shoved a gun into her hand before she could argue further. "Use it if you have to."

  "Where—"

  "I took it off one of the bodies. Now listen carefully. If you are discovered, shoot first. Don't hang around to see if they're going to do anything. Take them out and get outside. Use that window," he pointed, and Mack nodded when she saw the one he meant. "It's the only safe way out of the house at the moment, other than off the roof. Don't stick around inside. I have too many traps. Get out and run into the swamps. Head north. The alligators that way aren't as aggressive. I'll find you."

  Mack nodded. She desperately wished that she could do something more, or that she was able to fight back side by side with Oliver rather than cower in her hole, waiting for something to happen.

  "Don't come out until I get you. Not for anything."

  Mack nodded, and Oliver lowered the trapdoor again, sealing her in with the frozen lentils and beans. Mack closed her eyes, trying to get a little rest before all hell broke loose.

  ***

  She had not been expecting the explosions. When the deafening sounds shook her small hiding spot, Mack gasped and clutched the gun tighter. She turned the flashlight off, afraid that it was dark out and she'd give away her position, but then turned it on again, knowing if it was bright out, she'd be blinded by the harsh light if her eyes adjusted to the dark. Besides, the trapdoor was sealed tight. No light could escape it.

  Gunfire sounded like a distant crack of thunder. Was it Gedge and his men, or the traps Oliver had set?

  It wouldn't be Meyer–she had convinced Oliver to phone him and tell him about the two safe exit points. If the marshal did show up, he wouldn’t enter through the door. Unless Gedge and Meyer had both shown up at the same time.

  Panicking wasn't going to help and she took in a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly. She couldn’t do anything about the pounding of her heart, though, or the anxiety that coursed through her. More gunfire. More explosions. Then silence.

  "Bertha?"

  Mack's heart jolted at the muffled sound of Tom Meyer's voice. She threw open the trap door, scrambling out. Meyer jumped. He was only a few feet from her hiding place, and relief crossed his face as he stomped over to her. "Hurry, we have a chopper on the roof but this place is crawling with Gedge's men. Where's Oliver?"

  Mack shook her head, her relief at seeing Meyer disappearing as anxiety for Oliver clawed at her gut. Was he okay? "Have you seen a gorilla?"

  Tom's eyes widened. Sweat dripped down the side of his face. "A gorilla?"

  "Oliver has a gorilla that's trained to protect him," she muttered, unwilling to say anymore. "He's probably… with it."

  Meyer shook his head. "My men will find him, but it's important we get you out of here. It's hot as blazes in here!"

  "Oliver's good with heat." Sweat was already beginning to bead on Mack's forehead. She clutched the gun as Meyer began leading her away. He cast a surprised glance at it.

  "You should give that to me." He moved to take it.

  Mack shook her head. "No. You have a gun. I can defend myself."

  "And how will you know who's your enemy and who's a friend?"

  "If they shoot at us, I shoot back."

  Mack lifted her chin and glared at him. She didn't even really know how to use the handgun, other than to point and pull the trigger, but just having it in her hand was a comfort. Meyer frowned at her, but shook his head and continued on.

  There were intermittent bursts of gunfire, but they met no resistance as they made their way through the house. Mack was tense, on edge, expecting at any moment that Gedge would appear behind them and shoot them in the back. Her heart was in her throat, but he made no appearances. His men didn't block their way. Her heart lifted as they neared the rooftop–if Oliver somehow made his way up as well, everything would be perfect.

  Or so she thought.

  When they emerged onto the roof, Mack gasped. Half a dozen men were standing near a black helicopter. She didn't see the way the men stood loosely, with their hands on holstered guns, or the way they stood in a protective semi-circle. All she saw was the man standing in the middle of them.

  Gedge. Tall, with pale skin and striking blue eyes. Hair the color of corn silk. Muscular build. In another lifetime, he could have been a movie star. He smiled.

  Mack brought her gun up, but before she could pull the trigger, Meyer snatched the weapon from her. She turned shocked eyes on him, and he shrugged at her. He turned the gun on her and prodded her forward with a jerk of his head.

  Her legs wobbled with every step, but Mack summoned all her courage and lifted her chin. Before she knew it, she was striding forward, regardless of Meyer's prodding. She had every intention of marching right up to the filthy drug lord and slapping him across the face, but Meyer grabbed her arm, stopping her before she could reach Gedge.

  She summoned up the filthiest look she could muster with her heart pounding the way it was and glared at the marshal. "So you're a dirty cop."

  "Pays better."

  "Why even let m
e testify against him in the first place if you were going to help him escape and kill me?"

  "Quite simple, my dear." Gedge smiled at her as if he was asking her to tea. "You had already given your testimony. It could have been used against me even if you were dead. Actually, killing you may have harmed my case further. But now…"

  "But now that you've already been convicted you're going to kill me?"

  "No. Certainly not. I'm here to make you change your testimony. Admit you lied, tell them that you were sleeping with your boss and had a fight, and that you left before the murder took place. Then I will let your family live."

  Her family? Mack trembled from head to foot. "Leave my family alone!"

  "I have no desire to harm them."

  "I'll change my testimony," she blurted. "I'll say whatever you want me to."

  The drug lord smiled. "Good—"

  An enraged roar interrupted him. The gorilla swung himself over the helicopter, howling. He knocked over three of Gedge's men and, as the rest drew their weapons, he grabbed Gedge by the throat and threw him into them. Meyer cursed and shot two rounds before Oliver was on him, teeth flashing.

  Mack darted in closer, snatching the handgun from Meyer as he screamed, grappling at Oliver's jaws. She pointed wildly at the drug lord, holding it with both hands as she fired. The kickback rammed up her arms, knocking the breath out of her, but she continued to shoot wildly while the men dove for cover. She saw one whip around, blood splattering from his skull, and drop. Gedge shot back.

  Oliver's fist shot out, grabbing Mack's top. As bullets flew towards them, he shoved her under Meyer's still body and charged. Blood dripped down over her eyes, blinding her. There were screams. Mack blinked rapidly, but everything was happening too quickly for her to follow.

  Another sound beat at her ears–the second chopper. Her heart sank. More of Gedge's men. They were going to be killed, her family was going to be killed and it was all her fault. If she had just kept her mouth shut about the murder, if she hadn't decided to be so damn noble—

  Oliver let out a howl of pain. Mack's heart jumped into her throat. She shoved at Meyer's body, struggling to see what was happening. All of the drug lord's men were down. All that was left was Gedge himself, leaning against his chopper, a gun pointed at Oliver. He rapidly pulled the trigger but nothing came out. Oliver stumbled towards him, one arm dangling uselessly. Blood poured from his strong body. Mack knew she was screaming but couldn't hear her own voice.

  The gorilla grasped Gedge's shirt, dragging him towards the edge of the building. Gedge fumbled at his belt and drew a switchblade. He stabbed it into Oliver's leg. The gorilla howled but kept going. Another stab. Another howl.

  Mack screamed, throwing the body off her. She dashed for a gun to finish off the drug lord herself, but before she could get to it, Oliver had reached the edge of the building. With a final scream, he tossed Gedge off the side. He turned, and Mack could have sworn there was a smile on his face before he crumpled backward, disappearing as he followed Gedge off the side of the building.

  No.

  Mack moved forward, numb, eyes wide.

  No.

  Pain lanced in her stomach. Stumbling, she looked down. Her front was covered in blood. Her blood. She had been hit.

  Oliver.

  Black closed in from all sides.

  Not Oliver.

  Blood gushed between her fingers. Mack fell to her knees.

  No!

  Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as darkness claimed her.

  Chapter Nine

  It took weeks for Mack's body to heal from the bullet wound. While at the hospital, she drifted in and out of drug-fueled dreams, never staying in one place long enough to differentiate between the two. Her family visited her, her mother singing her lullabies, her father reading her stories, her brothers not really saying much at all. There was always a low-lying panic under all the painkillers in Mack's system, but she could never remember what she was so afraid of or who she was afraid for.

  Eventually, though, her head began to clear. Her mother told her what happened after she blacked out. The helicopter contacts had heard her message moments after she had left it and contacted the marshals and the FBI. Both had mobilized, and a SWAT team arrived just after Oliver had toppled from the building. She had lost a lot of blood, but they were able to get her to a hospital just in time.

  The marshal who took over her case from Meyer's betrayal assured her that Gedge's organization wasn't going to go anywhere near her and her family. There had already been dissension among the ranks, and they were too busy fighting each other for control of his empire to worry about her now. He had no family who would want to take revenge on her. She was safe.

  "What about Oliver?" Mack had asked when she learned that Gedge's body had been found on the forest floor beside the mansion.

  "His body has not been recovered."

  "He had a gorilla."

  The marshal's brow furrowed. "There haven't been any gorillas found either."

  Mack closed her eyes. "That means he's alive. He has to be."

  The marshal sighed. "He could be, yes. But don't get your hopes up. Gedge could have brought a lot more men with him than you saw. You and Oliver fought bravely. You should be proud of yourself."

  Proud of herself? She couldn’t care less how many men Gedge had. She had seen Oliver fall off that building, but if he hadn't been found, that meant that he was alive somewhere. Maybe in the hidey-hole, nursing his wounds. Maybe he was unable to shift back into a human because of his injuries, and he was out in the forest and swamps.

  It didn't matter. Wherever he was, she was going to find him.

  ***

  Once she started refusing the pain medication, Mack was deemed healed enough to head home. Her old room felt comforting, but her gut churned constantly, wondering where Oliver was and if he was safe, or if he had stumbled away from the mansion only to die, and was now being eaten by alligators.

  "What are you doing out of bed?"

  Mack looked up to see her mother frowning at her, hands on her hips. She was sitting at the kitchen table, laptop in front of her. "Mom, the doctor said I was fine to get up and move around."

  "You're still not healed. If you need to get places you should ask for help. It's not safe for you to go up and down the stairs by yourself." Her mother bustled over to her, shaking her head.

  "I don't get an internet connection upstairs."

  Her mother frowned when she saw what Mack was looking at. "Flights to Florida?"

  Mack tensed.

  "Honey, if search and rescue down there haven't been able to find him, you won’t be able to either.

  "I'm not going to sit around here and worry until they give up."

  "You think that you'll be able to find him in all that swampland?" Her mother put her hands on her hips.

  Mack ignored her mother's tone and clicked on a flight that would get her there the very next day.

  "Bertha—"

  "Mom, I'm going. I'm not giving up on him. I am going to find him."

  "You're talking like you think you love him. You don't even know him."

  Mack thought about his soft eyes, his playful smile, the ferocity of his kisses. She could feel his fingers tracing her lips, hear his hooting laughter as they scrambled up and down the jungle gym, chasing each other. The look in his eyes, so vulnerable and afraid when he revealed his gorilla side to her. The joy that had lit his face when she hadn't run screaming from him. She may not have been with him very long, but that didn't mean that she didn't know him.

  "I know him enough to know how I feel for him. To know how he feels for me."

  "Honey—"

  "I know him, Mom. And I'm not leaving him alone again."

  ***

  Several weeks later, Mack turned off her rental car and stared at the mansion, her heart in her throat. What if she couldn't find him? She had spent the last few weeks telling herself that she would find him and all would be
well, but what if she couldn't?

  The SWAT team had dismantled all of Oliver's traps, but Mack was still cautious and entered the mansion through the window in the atrium. Everything was in terrible condition. There was shattered glass everywhere, chunks of wood that bullets had torn free all over the floor, and plants that had been torn up and kicked around.

  Mack checked the hidden trapdoor first. The frozen foods had thawed, in some cases going moldy. Her heart sank. Even though she had told the marshals about this place, she had foolishly hoped that they hadn't passed it along to the search and rescue team and that Oliver would be inside, nursing some injuries, but very much on the road to recovery.

  The house was empty and eerily still. Mack shivered as she moved from room to room, calling Oliver's name. But he was nowhere to be found, and her heart sank further with every step she took. She was glad that she hadn't let her family come out here with her–they would be encouraging her to give up, and as the dull ache of her still-healing wound turned into a persistent throb, it would be all too easy to give in.

  She was sobbing by the time she climbed the ladder to the bedrooms. He wasn't here. Would she ever see him again?

  Blinded by tears, she went to his room and curled up on the bed, pushing her face into his pillow to breathe in his musky, manly scent. She wasn't certain how long she lay there, crying, but when her face shone with sweat and her throat was dry and sticky, she rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling.

  How long could she hold onto hope? Her mother was right–if search and rescue couldn’t find Oliver, then how could she? If she tried to go out into the swamp looking for him, would she end up lost and dead? Was that what he would have wanted?

  But how could she just give up on him? He had defended her to his last, and it was only because of her stupidity, trusting Tom Meyer instead of waiting for Oliver to get her, that they were separated like they were.

  Moving as if she was in a dream, Mack wiped her tears and headed for her room. While she was here, she might as well pick up the books she had left behind. And maybe take a cold shower while she was at it. Her temples throbbed from the heat.