Hunger

by Lillie J. Roberts

  “No problem, bro, freaked me out leaving you, though.” He grinned as he rose fluidly from the floor. The kid was learning.

  *

  The first purples of the dawn were breaking over the Eastern horizon as I fell into the dreamless sleep of the vampire. Only, this time my sleep wasn’t dreamless. Thoughts of Michela Jennings occupied me.

  She seemed to come from nowhere and at the same time, her essence surrounded me. I luxuriated in the feel of her presence, felt her fingers dance across my flesh, and though I knew this could be nothing more than some residual feeling from experiencing the woman in real life, it drew me further.

  Vampires do not dream, sleep for us is like a little bit of the death we’d escaped by becoming what we were. Never before had I experienced disturbances in my sleep, not since my mortal life ended and the vampiric began. I had forgotten how real it could feel, to dream. To hold a hand, to stroke the softness of another. Michela.

  I found myself hard and ready, throbbing with need. How was this possible? She seemed to slip across me, the feel of her flesh pressed to mine. My heart burst to life, pounding. My hands curled around her dream body, hips touching mine, and I heard the tinkling of her laugh. Suddenly, it was hard to tell if this was some dream-like experience, a wishful longing, or real.

  My fingers drifted through her auburn curls, the scent of her clung to the air, my nose tickled with it. Her lips bewitched mine with a lingering kiss, and my tongue probed the softness of her mouth. Clothes vanishing, her breasts felt heavy in my hands, her ruby tips already hardened, rolling them between my fingertips, waiting for my lips. With a groan, I captured them … but the sound brought me back to myself. My eyes opened to a darkened room. I felt deprived of my feast, her body taken away too quickly. I struggled to keep sleep from finding me again, but it was impossible. It swallowed me back into the darkness and when the dream began again, I welcomed it. Somehow, Michela Jennings and I had become connected. It was like nothing I had experienced before, but there was something different about her. Was she thinking about me while I was envisioning her?

  Vampires didn’t dream, and I didn’t have any idea what the hell was happening to me, but I was determined to enjoy it while it lasted.

  *

  The next night broke to the music of falling rain, and lightning flashed to brighten the darkness while thunder rumbled with ominous rage. Again, the night was warm and I set off to complete the task I’d promised myself to fulfill. First, I checked in on Anton Vintonie, just to make sure he was still in the land of the living. Loupgarin taking Paulie last night had shaken the would-be mobster.

  Pulling up to the still closed gate, I glanced up smirking, knowing the camera would see me as the gate swung open on well-oiled hinges, hardly any sound at all. Donny met me at the door. “Anton said to bring you back.” He held out his hand to me. “I just wanted to thank you for last night. You didn’t have to make sure we got home, but you did. You’re aces in my book.”

  “Not a problem, Donny.” I took his offered hand in my icy one. “Just doing my job. How’s Anton doing tonight?” Peering around the house turned fortress, there were new additions and fortifications.

  “He isn’t taking any chances, Mr. Draco, that’s for sure. Can’t blame him.” He tugged on his chin. “He treated Paulie like a son.” Donny led me into the house and continued toward the rear. From the looks of it, Anton planned on holding up in his home with its new improvements. When you have a lot of money, work gets done fast. Add in being a local gangster, and people fall over themselves to help. It’s nice being one of the favored.

  We made our way to the back of the house. If Anton had fortified the front of his home, the rear was even more strongly secured with bullet proof glass, bars on the exterior of the windows, coded and fingerprinted entrances, and coded exits. This was Anton’s safe house, his panic room inside his home. When I entered, he sat in one of the rear bedrooms surrounded by computer displays of most of his property. Everything he needed could be found in this one room.

  “Have you checked on Michela?” I asked what I thought was an obvious question.

  He shrugged. “She’s safe. I sent Bobby to her.” But he wouldn’t meet my eyes and I brushed against his thoughts. He knew Bobby was supposed to be with Michela, just not if he actually was. Something was up.

  “Not Bobby from yesterday, right? Don’t tell me you trust that bastard to take care of your only daughter?” Glancing up at me, Anton finally managed to meet my eyes with a sheepish grin. What I saw reviled me. “How can you trust someone else, especially Bobby, to keep her safe?” His answer astounded me.

  “Yeah, well … he’s her husband. We let him know what happened, told him to be careful. I warned him to keep her safe.” He turned away, watching his computer monitors, avoiding my eyes.

  Maybe I should have told him he’d never see Loupgarin. He or his men wouldn’t know the difference. He’d slaughter them all, lapping up their blood as they died in his embrace, but his cavalier attitude pissed me off.

  “Aw, fuck me, you really are trusting him.” Part of her mystery began to unravel. Now I understood the long sleeves, the scarf. Bobby was a mean bastard, abusive, you could see it in how he treated others. “How the hell did she get involved with him? He’ll leave her to the wolves in a heartbeat.” Why Vintonie didn’t see this was beyond me. Maybe he didn’t care, a true sociopath.

  “Give me her address, right fucking now,” I snarled while he rattled off the street, and I sped from the house. Bobby was a thug in the truest sense of the word. Cruel, malicious, vicious. A bully ready to take his anger out on the rest of the world.

  *

  Vampires are supposed to have excellent senses, but mine were off somehow. I’d have to watch and wait, uncomfortable with my inability. I hadn’t detected Loupgarin earlier, and I didn’t know why. The old vampire somehow eluded me. Was he able to mask his signature? Something I hadn’t thought possible.

  Arriving in Lake Park, I scoped out the neighborhood. Definitely not poor, but not luxurious either. I was a little surprised Anton would let his daughter live anywhere but in the lap of luxury.

  Then I spotted Michela climbing into a black Suburban, and I followed her, several cars behind. She shopped at one of the local markets, and when she finished, just as silently, I tailed her back home. As far as I could tell, she was the only one in the house. Bobby had vanished … and this was the man Anton trusted to take care of his daughter?

  Valerian had a very distinct odor. As I knocked on her door, I inhaled. Loupgarin had been near, the weed wafted faintly through the air. Fear lanced through me as I pounded on the door and finally, it cracked open.

  “Mr. Draco, what brings you here?” she asked, opening the door wider, genuinely curious and surprised. Bobby hadn’t told her there was something out there, maybe hunting her.

  “Where’s Bobby? He’s supposed to be here, making sure you’re safe.” The bastard should have his ass kicked for leaving her alone.

  “He said he had to go out, meet some of the guys from work. I assume he’s at my father’s.” She shrugged innocently. “He isn’t here, and that’s all I care about. Why? What’s up?” She leaned in the doorway.

  My beast rumbled. This was an odd turn of events, it wanted to protect her too. As long as I could remember, it loved death and destruction, and yet here it was, making me want to cover her body with my own.

  “The son-of-a-bitch wasn’t supposed to leave you alone,” I growled out. My beast was going to be looking for Bobby, the bastard was going to pay. “Come on, I’ll take you to your father’s house. At least it’s protected.” I reached out for her, but she pulled away.

  “I’m a big girl, Mr. Draco. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years.” She shook off my hand. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  “I think your father should be the one—” I started.

  “I’m not going to my father’s. I thought you understood. I want no
part of that life.” She glared at me.

  Damn, she was going to be difficult.

  “And yet you’re married to Bobby, one of his brutes. Why is that, Ms. Jennings?” My disbelieving tone caused her a moment of embarrassment, she turned slightly pink as she looked away.

  “Bobby may not look it, but his family is wealthy and legitimate, unlike my own. My mother sent me away to expensive boarding schools for my whole life. I never even used my real name. Bobby and I met at a boy-girl dance, and later he turned up at college, someone I sort of knew in a sea of strangers.” Her eyes grew reminiscent. “He was tall, good-looking, nothing like now. Daddy’s line of work seems to do that to people.”

  “With my father and his demands, I’d had enough.” She grimaced. “I thought I was being rebellious. By then, I knew what my father did for a living, saw what it did to our family, what it was doing to my mother.” She sighed. “Bobby told me he loved me, said he would do anything for me. I was stupid, young, and naïve. When I got pregnant, my father made sure Bobby proposed. We were married like the good Catholics my father pretends to be.” She shuddered, closing her eyes.

  “Bobby was a bad choice, but I wanted to get back at my father, and what better way than sleeping with someone he hadn’t chosen. He wasn’t like any of the men my father tried to foist on me, twice my age, his cronies, it felt like he was bartering me away like some prize to the highest bidder. But once we were married, Daddy took Bobby right under his wing, gave him a job.” She spoke bitingly, there was anger in her voice. “We do stupid stuff when we’re too young to know better. That’s how we came to be together, Mr. Draco. How was I to know it was what my father wanted all along? Someone to help with the family business. The worst part is now my father loves Bobby, and I loathe him. He was never the man I thought him to be.”

  “I’m sorry, I had no idea. I’m an idiot. Please, forgive me.” For some reason, when I was around this woman, I said and did absurd things. “Your father didn’t mention a grandchild. Is your child here? He could be at risk too.” My eyes darted around the interior of her home, seeing no evidence of a child.

  “There is no child, Mr. Draco. When I was four months pregnant, I slipped on the stairs and the baby miscarried, but I still got to keep Bobby.” She squinted her eyes. “You see, my father doesn’t believe in divorce either, says it goes against the church.” She sneered with her sarcasm.

  Touching her mind, I knew she spoke the truth, except for the part about the stairs. Something else had happened there. If I was as good as Lucius, I’d know the truth. “Still, Ms. Jennings, I think you should stay at your father’s.”

  “Not a chance, Mr. Draco. Now, either come in and sit down or get the hell off my porch. But, I think you should tell me what’s going on.” She crossed her arms over her chest to wait, her toe tapping.

  Taking her invitation, I explained how someone was stalking her father and his employees. He’d already kidnapped Paulie, and I didn’t have any doubt he’d come after her too. “Now do you see why I want you to stay with your father?”

  She shivered. “If this freak is so bad, why didn’t Bobby say anything?”

  Lying, I said, “He probably didn’t want to scare you.” But she peered into my eyes, letting me see she was as aware of my deceit as she was of Bobby’s preference for self-preservation. He was out there somewhere, watching out for himself, protecting his own ass, while she sat, bait for the monster.

  She narrowed her gaze, stare taking in nothing and everything, all at the same time. “It’s okay. Bobby only looks out for Bobby, survival of the fittest kind of thing. I’ll stay here. One thing I don’t need is my father brow beating me.” She lifted her delicate shoulders. “I’ve been on my own long enough to know how to take care of myself.”

  “I have no doubt.”

  How very well I understood her bitterness, but she was so young to be so pessimistic. She hadn’t my years to earn her cynicism. If I could have, I would have shielded her from the harsher realities of life. Then I realized this woman had worked her way under my skin. I wanted to protect her, keep her safe, and God help me, to make her mine, both in my dreams and in real life.

  “If you won’t go to your father’s, I’ll have someone stationed here.” Feeling like a heartless prick, I left her home, but I stayed on guard outside with the shadows drawn around me, watching. Bobby never returned. I contacted Luc and one of our new sentries joined me.

  For the next several evenings, I shielded her when I could. Eventually Bobby would come home. He and I, we needed to talk. One evening, I followed her to her favorite market, and when she returned home, Bobby sat on the steps, waiting. She sighed when she saw him, shaking her head, and opened the door.

  I stood in the shadows, drawing the night around me, closing my eyes. I focused on the small house Michela called home. His slurred voice came to my ears.

  “No. You’ve had too much to drink!” she shouted. He screamed back, something unintelligible, something that made her cry, “No!” once again.

  I flew across the street, leaning into the window. It took every ounce of my preternatural strength to stop myself from going through it.

  As I watched, his hand swung back, knocking her to the floor. My beast roared. Bobby was a dead man, he just didn’t know it. But then Michela stood, facing him, and she wiped a drop of scarlet from the corner of her mouth, laughing at him. She danced out of his reach as he blundered about, trying to grab her, and instead, falling on his face. He tumbled in a heap, and she left him where he lay, until finally he dragged himself to stand and stumbled out the door, mumbling under his breath.

  My vision narrowed down to a pinpoint following Bobby Jennings, like a heat seeking laser. My beast groaned, this was new to me. My beast in protection mode. But one thing that I did know … Bobby would meet his end, and it would come quietly and quickly. Michela would suffer at his hands no more.

  *

  Strange things happen to those who think themselves beyond the reach of others, even in this day of silent alarms and armed guards. And, that’s what happened to Bobby. When my beast set its sights on him, there was no escape. No one is beyond the reach of the vampire, as Bobby should have realized. He’d made his own bed, now he’d lay in it, his only companion—death. But he and the master of the dead were already well acquainted. Would he visit hell? Would the Devil greet him? It was my sincerest hope.

  The old rogue still occupied the majority of my thoughts, as well as the need to protect what was mine, and what I hoped to make mine. Who would be his next victim? The mobster, his daughter, someone from the streets? Or was he watching my own family, waiting, ready to strike? For the next week, everything quieted down. That should’ve been my first clue everything was going to get bad. That’s when the killings started again, bloodier than before.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Bobby didn’t come home that night, or the next, or the one after. Anton Vintonie knew about the problem, but he refused to call the police. Not all Anton’s business dealings were on the up and up. Bobby was known to take off, have wild flings lasting for weeks, then contrite upon his return, ready to make up for his sins, until Michela gave him cause to lose his temper. Not this time, not ever again.

  Finally, it was Michela who called in to report him missing, and to my knowledge, the case is still open. Vampires figured out long ago how to rid themselves of those past their use-by date.

  *

  As the next week approached, Loupgarin stayed mysteriously silent. We waited for him to make his next move, to make his presence known. Lucius came to the place where he’d made his lair, the stink of valerian still overlaying the others. It wasn’t as strong anymore, maybe he’d changed addresses? But we took care of the property anyway, buying it from the owner who hadn’t seen it in more than two years, greedily accepting the offer, happy to be free of the property. A small contained fire destroyed most of the interior. Now it stood empty, gutted, waiting for repairs.

  Between L
ucius, David, and myself, we kept an eye on the neighborhoods Loupgarin frequented. But there only so much time to devote and so few of us, and somehow, he managed to sneak back in, leaving us a message scrawled on one of the charred walls of the abandoned home. I’m coming for you written in blood, but whose blood? It was a gruesome find as we worked to see who he’d taken.

  The Council remained mysteriously silent regarding the old rogue, but that was expected. They had washed their hands of the situation that was of their own making. The only time we expected to hear from them was if we didn’t find him to end his unnatural existence. But then again, we expected to hear from them if we did find him and put him down too. Either way didn’t promise to be pleasant.

  It was on one of these evenings when I was once again contacted by Anton Vintonie. I wondered if he suspected my involvement in his son-in-law’s disappearance, not that he would do anything. Vintonie had his own agenda, and I was still trying to figure it out. In the meantime, Loupgarin had piled up six more bodies, but instead of being in one central location, they were scattered about. Again, I had to investigate and I asked Vintonie to meet me in the area.

  *

  “I hope you haven’t disposed of all the bodies. I’ll need to examine a few.” Not that I wanted to.

  Vintonie turned to me. “There’s not much left, this is worse than before. But take a look if you want. I’m more worried if this insane bastard should come to my home. What he might do once he gets there.” He shrugged. “Michela’s been to see me since Bobby didn’t come back.” It was an afterthought, maybe added for my benefit.

  “Did you know he was beating her? You know that’s what happened to the baby, regardless of what was said.”

  He backed up before meeting my eyes.

  “You didn’t know.”

  “No, I didn’t. That son-of-a-bitch … if she’d said something …”

  “And what? You’d have killed the bastard? You think that would have made it better?”