by Hughes, Mary
“Weren’t you going to use your allure?” he drawled.
“I was. I still can, if I could find the bastard! Nosferatu won’t help and time is running out. Gravloth may claim my spot before I get within pheromone spitting distance. I’m reduced to chasing rumors to find him.”
A blood-curdling scream came from the ballroom.
“My dear, I think you can stop chasing.” Giuseppe snickered. “It sounds like your chance is here.”
Chapter Fifteen
Dragan grabbed my wrist and took off for the ballroom. I scrambled as best I could in his wake, but honestly if he wasn’t towing me like a water skier I’d have fallen within the first steps. Camille followed close behind, Giuseppe sauntering after with that nasty smile on his face.
As we ran, I admit I was hoping the scream was because LLAMA had started a cheese ball fight, or even that they’d brought out the nuclear pistachio fluff.
But no. The entire ballroom was staring at the stage.
A tank of a vampire dominated center stage, his four-lane back to the room. Around him, musicians leaped off the edge like grasshoppers fleeing a lawn mower. He was head and shoulders taller than the few poor souls left cowering.
The megavamp had crashed the Grand Vienna Woods Ball.
Dragan skidded to a stop. I piled into him, my heart rattling my ribs.
Even from the back Gravloth wasn’t like any of the graceful, perfectly proportioned vampires I’d seen. His fists were bigger than his head, he had a torso like a Winnebago and he stomped around the stage in boots like crash cymbals, scaring off the rest of the wildlife. He was a giant caricature of a vampire, but there was nothing funny about the sheer menace raging from him.
Heart in my throat, I scanned the area for Mom.
She was clutching Luke’s biceps in one of the hall doorways. Luke stood with dangerous ease, eyes narrowed at the vampire on the stage. Okay, she was in good hands.
Gravloth spun. My attention snapped front, my heart diving from my throat into my bowels. His skin was plated like a triceratops, his eyes red coals glowing from low-hanging brow plates. The fangs of a walrus jutted from his open mouth. Facing the frozen audience in his combat fatigue knock-offs, arms raised to show off muscles the size of trucks in his thin ribbed tank shirt, he roared until the whole room rang.
He leaped off the stage, shaking the floor when he landed.
He nearly squashed the young heiress and her escort, trembling near the foot of the stage. The megavamp’s head turned to them with a weird reptilian fluidity. I clutched Dragan’s fingers, my skin prickling.
The vampire reached for the cowering humans with his huge taloned hands. My stomach hollowed out. He grabbed the heiress by the neck and yanked her in. Her appetizers dropped from her hand with a shatter of plate followed by an alarming splut-sizzle. She’d been eating LLAMA cheese balls.
A gasp rose from the frozen crowd. The heiress whimpered.
The escort cleared his throat. “Ex-excuse me. You c-can’t do that.”
Gravloth’s head swiveled toward the young man. My palms slicked. The huge vampire roared right into the escort’s face, so hard the man’s hair streamed and shuddered with the force of it.
The young woman screamed. Her escort fainted with a whump.
There was dead silence—
Someone in the back started clapping. “Bravo.”
“Very nice,” someone else drawled.
More people clapped. The woman in front of me leaned over and murmured to her companion, “Riveting performance piece.”
The companion nodded. “Though a bit unoriginal.”
I nearly choked. They thought it was “performance art”.
In the vampire’s taloned grip, the heiress started heaving. Naturally—she’d been eating cheese balls. I couldn’t hear her erk over the polite applause.
But I saw clearly when she let loose over the monster vampire.
With an offended roar he tossed her away like dirty garbage. She stumbled, then staggered to where her mother folded her into the maternal bosom.
“My turn,” Camille murmured.
“Camille, don’t,” Dragan whispered sharply. “We haven’t got enough information on the Soul Stealer to effectively fight him—”
“No. I want this over.” She sauntered through the tables, hips swiveling seductively, the tail of her hair twitching in counterpoint.
Behind us, Giuseppe sniggered. “This should be interesting.”
Both Dragan and I glared at him. He quirked a shrug and smiled nastily.
Camille reached the front of the room where Gravloth had grabbed a handful of napkins and was wiping disgustedly at himself. His expression was easier to read since his face plate and fangs had softened and shrunk. “Hello,” she purred. “You’re new in town.”
His eyes rose to her and fired red. He jabbed out with his hand, almost too fast to follow, grabbed her throat and yanked her in.
Giuseppe tsked. “Such a one trick pony.”
“That trick is pretty effective.” Dragan’s fists balled.
Camille’s fingers plucked at the megavamp’s ringing hand, to no effect. She started making choking noises.
I gave Giuseppe the hairy eyeball. “Do something.”
“What would you suggest?”
“Rescue her. He’s choking her.”
“Oh, she’s fine. It’s not like she needs the oxygen.”
“Dammit.” I turned back to Dragan. “What are we going to do? We need to help her.”
Dragan’s gaze flicked over everything in the room as if it were an orchestra, finely assessing. “Strictly speaking, we don’t.”
Vampires. “We need to do something because after he finishes her he’ll come after everyone else.”
“Luke’s no longer here.”
“So? That means he got Mom to safety, hooray…oh.” It also meant he’d have called the cavalry. We only had to mark time until they arrived.
Sure enough, a dozen SWATed-up guards appeared in the doorway, bristling rifles, machine guns and more. “Alliance?” I whispered.
“Not in the heart of Chicago. I’d guess Eleanor’s son-in-law. I hope they’re more effective than their name.”
The stream of guards ran hunched into the room, using tables as cover. When they reached a place near the center they threw tables onto their sides and gathered behind them, weapons aimed at the vampire.
“Dragan!” I grabbed his arm. “There are people between them and Gravloth.”
“I see.” He flickered forward, vampire fast, to where, still applauding, a dozen or so men and women stood between the armed guards and the megavamp. While I wouldn’t have said no to being rich, I hoped money never made me that disconnected from reality. Dragan stopped next to the group. “Go,” he intoned.
The men and women stopped applauding. They turned to go.
“Stay.” Gravloth hissed his command like a snake.
They shivered with indecision.
“Go,” Dragan repeated. “Leave quickly.” To help them decide he swooped down on them, gathering them with his arms, and herded them for the doors.
“No!” The megavamp leaped for Dragan.
A loud hiss was followed by a whoosh of instantly expanding air, a guard shooting Gravloth full in the face with a flamethrower.
The monster roared in pain, swung a screaming Camille in front of him, and shoved her into the yellow stream.
All around me shrieking people scattered for the exits. Dragan flickered between them, shepherding them toward the nearest doors.
A click, then silence. My ears rang. The river of fire had disappeared.
Leaving the megavamp’s face red meat, hair crisped. I punched air in triumph.
But even as I watched, his skin grew back. Within seconds, hair sprouted like time-lapsed photography.
Camille wasn’t so lucky. Her skin was broken, blistered and charred black in places. Blood sweated from her exposed muscles. She moaned.
The
guards opened fire. Bullets peppered her and Gravloth. She made a horrible rattling sound and went limp.
But the megavamp held her like a shield and waded into the bullets, slapping at them as if they were flies.
A guard loaded what looked like a lipstick tube into a gun with two long barrels. He ran to one side of the vampires, took aim and fired. There was a crack of thunder. It caught Gravloth in the ribs.
His middle seemed to give as the round penetrated, then exploded. For an instant there was a plate-sized hole where his ribs had been.
With a sucking sound, his chest swirled back into being.
I wrapped arms around me, trying to stop trembling. Good grief, he was indestructible.
The megavamp tossed Camille’s broken body aside and stalked toward the security team, exchanging confused looks and no longer firing. The vampire woman lay there, vulnerable. I couldn’t tell if she was breathing.
“Dammit.” I looked around for Giuseppe, but he’d disappeared. It was up to me.
I ran for her, a plan forming in my head on the way. Dragan, on the other side of the room, shouted, “Raquel, no!”
As I passed a cart I snatched up a doily.
Gravloth saw me coming. He paused, clearly torn between me and the guards.
Then his nostrils flared and his eyes turned a lusty brick red.
He shot toward me.
The instant he got in range, I threw the doily.
The LLAMA cheese ball erupted from the white paper lace like lumpy steel shot. It hit Gravloth in the belly. He slowed, pawing at the stuff. His fingers started bubbling. His face plate dissolved to a puzzled expression. He raised his hissing, sputtering fingers to his face. One whiff and he keeled over. The snotball began to eat through shirt and skin.
I grabbed Camille and dragged her toward the doors. She left streaks of blood. I swallowed my gorge and kept tugging.
Shots rang out, rapid fire pops. I assumed the guards had gotten their mojo back.
“Raquel, we must go.” Dragan was suddenly at my side, lifting Camille in one arm, his free hand on my arm, guiding me. I glanced back at Gravloth. He’d staggered to his feet, shuddering as the bullets peppered him.
I concentrated on following Dragan. We’d almost made it to the door when the megavamp’s horrible roar rang out.
“He’s coming.” Dragan wrapped an arm under my thighs and lifted and suddenly we were flying out of the room.
Air boomed behind us. Gravloth hit us and we were thrown forward and both Camille and I sailed from Dragan’s grasp.
I automatically tumbled and came up in a fighting stance. Thank you, Mr. Miyagi.
Gravloth grabbed for me, soft, probably because I was a mere human. I flashed my arm up in an automatic outer block, knocking his hand to the side. His eyes widened in surprise. He grabbed for me again, more determined and with more strength, but still soft. I’d seen it coming and spun up a hook kick, the power of my whole body behind it. Yay for full, roomy skirts. I knocked his hand aside a second time.
The monster growled and grabbed for me with both hands, definitely not soft this time. I was about to end up a Rocky juice box.
Dragan seized me by the scruff of the neck and yanked me out of harm’s way. He swept me into his arms, spun and ran so fast the walls blurred.
Over his shoulder I saw Gravloth beat his chest like an ape and light out after us.
I clutched Dragan’s shoulders harder for every inch the monster gained on us until I’d made actual dents. “Camille?” I gasped.
“Luke.” Dragan hit a door near the elevators and started down a set of carpeted stairs. Mere seconds later the crash of cymbal-size boots came after us.
“Why is he chasing us? What does that monster want?”
Dragan was ominously silent.
Once he hit the street he set me down, then grabbed me by the shoulders and nailed me in the eyes. “Listen.” His tone was the orchestra conductor commanding immediate obedience. I riveted my eyes and ears on him. “I’m about to change. The instant I do, get on my back, wrap your arms around my throat and don’t let go. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He blew into a cloud of black dust.
The door slammed open. Feet crashed behind us.
My bowels quaked. I clutched my fingers tight, nails denting my palms, and kept my focus on Dragan’s reemerging shape.
The dust collapsed into a huge hawk.
And I mean huge. The thing’s head was as big as mine and its wingspan was as long as a car. Before my thudding heart could jump out my mouth I launched onto its back and wrapped arms around its neck.
It—or rather he, because I knew the hawk was Dragan—took off, so fast and near vertical that my stomach came out my feet. At least it felt like it.
The megavamp chased us on the ground for a good mile.
But he had to follow the city streets and dodge buildings. After what felt like hours but was probably only ten minutes, we finally lost him.
Then the Dragan hawk soared a few moments, apparently enjoying kiting in the updrafts. I didn’t relax. I’m not afraid of heights or falling but the only thing between me and a sudden pavement-assisted stop was my trembling arms. I put my mouth at the side of his head and murmured, “If you don’t land this instant I’m going to yuck up on your feathers.” I don’t know where hawks’ ears are, but Dragan made a squawk like a chuckle and headed for a tall building.
“You knew about that monster all along, didn’t you?” I called through the bathroom door. Steam curled from under it. Dragan was taking a shower. I tried not to imagine him naked, water streaming down his long black hair, dripping along the curved muscles of his chest, sheeting down each rib of his flank…yeah. “Trying not to” only made it more real.
He’d brought me to the penthouse suite of a hotel where he stayed so often they knew his preferences for black towels and red roses, both of which came within minutes of our arrival.
The romantic roses reminded me he’d said that when we made love, it would be on a bed. Surprise! Here was a bed.
I shoved the thought aside. We’d nearly lost our lives tonight.
After we’d arrived here, the first thing I’d done was call my mother. I’d tried her at home—she didn’t have a cell phone—but there was no answer.
I’d have made Dragan fly me out immediately to look for her, but he called Luke’s cell, and Luke put Mom on. She told me Luke was taking her home by a circuitous route, and they were seeing half of Chicago on the way. I could tell by her rapid delivery and frequent squeals of delight that she was having the time of her life. She told me not to worry. After I made her promise to call the instant she got home, she hung up.
Then Dragan announced he was taking a shower and I’d started my long vigil of trying not to imagine him naked.
“I told you I’m a bit of an information broker.” Dragan’s deep voice curled under the bathroom door with the steam, just as hot. Steam and voice and that damned alluring naked image of him wrapped around me, beckoning.
I nearly let myself in.
After which, I would…I would do what? What the hell did I know about seducing a sophisticated male?
Besides what said male had taught me, that was.
Which started me remembering the backseat of my car, and the strip motel…and before I spontaneously combusted I found the remote and clicked on the large television opposite the foot of the king-size bed and sat down to watch some mindless entertainment to cool off.
As I flipped through channels, I called, “Are you sure he won’t follow us? The megavamp, I mean.”
“I’m certain. We lost him visually, and there was no scent on the ground for him to track.”
“But if this is your usual hotel, won’t he be able to find that out?”
The shower turned off and I imagined him toweling himself dry, briskly rubbing his magnificent torso, his arm muscles jumping powerfully as he worked… Better than worrying about the megavamp, right?
“Soul Stealer, huh?” Figured he’d have a more elegant name for the megavamp. I went back to flicking channels.
Dragan came out of the bathroom with a cell phone at his ear, clad only in a black towel wrapped low around his lean hips.
Fresh from the shower, his hair damply curling, a few droplets of water still caressing his sleek skin, he was so attractive I wanted to run my tongue all over him. The remote dropped from my suddenly nerveless hand.
His eyes flashed to mine and flared red. His fangs slowly descended from between his lips. “I will speak with you later.” He thumbed the phone off and tossed it onto a nearby nightstand.
I rose to my feet, my arms crossed over my chest. I don’t know why I stood, maybe to run away, maybe to meet him. But he streaked and suddenly he stood before me, so close each quickened breath brushed his naked belly against me, only my thin black-and-white dress separating us.
Heat poured off his skin, damp and steamy from the shower but also from the desire shimmering between us. His eyes blazed down into mine.
“Who…who was on the phone?” My chest rose and fell rapidly, my heart pounding. This wasn’t slow, careful seduction. This was male lust, immediate and overwhelming. A fever skittered across my skin.
His arms wrapped around me and he bent over me. “Nobody.” His lips met mine and his tongue demanded entry.
I gasped and opened. Fire rushed into my mouth. His fangs slid against my lips as he kissed me, startling and exciting in their sleek, cool lengths, so foreign and forbidden. I arched into him, my crossed arms caught between us, wanting more but not sure how to ask for it.
He backed me a step into the bed. I collapsed under him, his lips roving down the side of my face. “The more I taste you, the more I want.” His tongue ran briefly over my neck. “Open to me, Raquel.”
