“I have a five o’clock appointment.” Confusion clouded her expression. “Did you forget?”
“I don’t forget, you don’t have an appointment.” Vivienne pulled her lips to the side.
Rook took her calendar out of her bag, “Someone named Cara Lysle, past life regression.”
“Rook, you can’t keep meeting clients here,” Vivienne’s scolded with her Cajun accent.
“When did this happen? I thought we had an arrangement.” Rook dropped her bag on a table in the corner. “I provide a service, you get a cut of the fee. Simple.”
“Yes, but you’re getting a little too tangled up in The Directive for my comfort, not to mention pissing off vampires is unwise.”
Rook inhaled a contemplative breath. “Please, are you really afraid of the vamps or The Directive?”
“Yes. I’ve survived here for this long by keeping a low profile. You’re drawing attention, not the good kind.”
“Okay, okay.” Rook tried not to show much concern for now having to figure out where she was going to go to feel safe. “What about staying here? Can I still sleep in the back?”
“You’ve got tonight and that’s it.” Vivienne set a sage smudge on fire. Her expression darkened as she waved the smoking herbs around the shop. “There’s a darkness surrounding you. I think you’re getting far too deep in this, bad things are coming. You should leave New Orleans.”
Rook was taken aback by the fear in Vivienne’s tone. “Did you have a vision . . . about me?”
“It’s just a feeling and not a good one. I care about you and I want you to be safe, but I can’t protect you.”
“Can’t you just cast some of your voodoo?” Rook pleaded, pushing back the fear tickling the edge of her nerves. She’s wasn’t sure whether Vivienne was being dramatic or if it’s real.
“No, dear, I can’t. There are some things in this world that can only be avoided by action, not magic.” Vivienne cast her stare downward to hide the shame in her eyes. “I’ve seen many young human girls just like you think they would be safe from this world, but you aren’t. You’re playing with the kind of fire I can’t put out.”
“So, what do I do? Just leave? Run away?” Anger pushed her voice to an upper register, the very thought of running away and leaving the vamps to continue their blood slave trade made her sick to her stomach.
“Go back home, go to where you came from. You don’t belong here.” Vivienne threw the curtain aside and headed for the back room.
Rook sat hard in the chair, mulling Vivienne’s words in her mind. Anger continued to flare at the suggestion that she’s just a human girl. There was more to her than that. She could feel it and knew it from her dreams. She got up from the table and went to the back room. “Vivienne, you and I both know I’m not just a human girl. I’m different and I do belong here.”
“You have a talent for past life regressions, but that’s about it, dear. That’s not going to keep you alive and neither can I.”
“I’m not asking for your protection, just for a place to work and sleep,” she pleaded, but her hope diminished watching as Vivienne shook her head.
“You’re young and intrepid.” Vivienne smiled kindly and cupped Rook’s cheek in her hand. “Trust me, I’m doing you a favor by sending you home, Iris.”
Rook sucked in a sharp breath, stepping away from her touch. “What did you call me?”
“Iris, your real name.” Vivienne pressed her lips into a tight line. “You’ve forgotten who you are, that’s proof enough that it’s time to go.” Vivienne took Rook’s hand into hers, placing her other hand over it. “You’re in danger here.”
“So many are, and no one wants to do anything, except maybe Samuel. How can you just sit by and watch as all of this happens, while people are being kidnapped and sold like cattle? This isn’t okay.” Rook’s temper was getting the best of her, she tried to control it before she said something she’d regret.
She spun on her heel and headed to the front to get her backpack, ignoring Vivienne’s calling after her. She stormed out the door, slamming it for effect before stalking across the cemetery, muttering to herself.
Vivienne watched her march across the cemetery, shaking her head. “Go home, child, before it’s too late for you.”
Rook’s thoughts wandered back home, where she was miserable. She never fit in there, she wasn’t made for that life. But was she made for this one?
Chapter 3
“Hunter?” Camille called his name softly to not startle him.
Hunter leaned up from the microscope. “I’m close, I can feel it.”
“You need to take a break,” she warned. “Come on, let’s go for a walk or just get outside. It’s a beautiful night.”
Hunter flashed her a dubious glance. “Are you suggesting I need some fresh air?”
“I’m insisting.” Camille took him by the wrist.
“If you want to go home, that’s fine. I’m sure Sophie would like to spend some time with you.” Hunter smiled.
“She’s worried about you, too.” Camille spun him around on the stool to face her. “Sophie said you haven’t left the lab in days.”
“Sophie should mind her own business.” Hunter turned back to the microscope. “These RNA strands from the last samples are reacting as expected, but much slower than I hoped.”
“Really?” Camille’s excited tone told Hunter his diversion worked. “Pull it up on the screen.”
Hunter turned on the computer monitor to display the microscopic cells and their movement. They watched intently as the movement quickened. “Hunter, what’s happening?”
“I don't know, it looks like the RNA is mutating again, this should not be happening.” Hunter peered into the microscope. “No, no, no.”
Camille watched with disappointment as the antigen cells are taken over and mutated by the RNA.
Hunter growled, pushing himself away from the desk. “I was so close!”
“You need to take a break,” Camille said with warning, watching as Hunter’s temper flared. “When was the last time you fed?”
“I don’t need to feed, I need to find the answer.” He blew out a breath, pacing across the lab.
“Listen, you’ve made so many breakthroughs already.” She tried to comfort him. “The simple fact that you’ve been able to prove that vampirism behaves like a virus is huge.”
“But now I must cure it,” he snapped.
Camille’s dainty face twisted with sadness. “It’s going to take time, and you have plenty of it. But you need to clear your head. Come back to it with a fresh eye.”
Hunter pinned her with an angry look. “You will never understand.”
“I, of all people, understand how important this is to you.”
“How can you? You have Sophia, you’re spending eternity with your true love.” The pain in Hunter’s eyes affected her. “I haven’t felt the touch of my one true love in thousands of years. The fact that I may find a cure so that I can die a proper death and go to Valhalla to be with her is the only thing that has kept my spirit from dying completely.”
Camille gave him a moment to calm himself. “Hunter,” she said softly, “I do understand. Since the moment you saved me in Paris, I’ve lived with your pain. The despair of her loss ebbs from your being every moment. For hundreds of years I’ve watched the loneliness eat away at you . . .” A tear formed in the corner of her eye. “I want you to find the cure, which is why I’m asking you to take a break.”
Hunter hung his head. “I’m sorry. I truly am.” He took Camille into an embrace. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“Oh, and maybe by your place so you can get a shower.” She chuckled.
“I’ve been showering here,” he said defensively.
“Which explains why you smell of antibacterial hand soap.” She smiled, taking him by the hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
Hunter took his lab coat off and hung it on the rack by the door. He turned around, surveying the lab with a look
of determination.
“It’s not going anywhere.” Camille tugged at his hand.
When they reached the street, Hunter stopped and looked up at the stars. “She’s waiting for me, you know.”
“I know she is.”
“You don’t believe me?” he said, starting down the sidewalk.
“I do, I just can’t imagine having that kind of love.” She bowed her head.
“You and Sophie have that.” Hunter rattled her hand.
“I don’t think either of us would go thousands of years seeking each other the way you’ve been trying to get back to Runa.” Her smile warmed her tone. “It’s a one-of-a-kind of love.”
Hunter’s expression darkened, and he remained silent.
“What is it?” Camille detected a new kind of defeat in his being.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt her presence,” he admitted.
“It happens, you went eighty years once without feeling her.” Camille glanced up at the sky, “You know she’s there, she’s just preparing Valhalla for you.”
“I can only hope.” Hunter’s wistful tone was heartbreaking.
“So, let’s get you fed and home so you can rest. We’ve got a new shipment of samples coming in the morning. We can start fresh then,” Camille encouraged.
“You know I don’t need rest.” Hunter raised his brow.
“I know you don’t, but you need a bit of distance from all of this and I need some rest,” she said, realizing the fatigue tugging at her.
“Then I’ll walk you home.” Hunter wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
“Only if you’ll promise you won’t go into the lab until morning,” Camille bargained with him.
“I promise.”
“And you’ll feed?” she added.
“I have some blood at home,” he said.
“How old is it?” Camille pinned him with a knowing look. “Go by the club, feed on some warm blood.”
Hunter grazed her with a judgmental look and inhaled to speak. She cut him off before he could start the lecture. “I know, you don’t approve–”
“I’m not going to say how you should or shouldn’t eat and I ask you do the same.” He raised a brow. “It’s been over a thousand years since I’ve fed from a live donor and I prefer it that way. It keeps the bloodthirsty Viking at bay.”
“That’s not who you are anymore, you haven’t been that man for a long time.” Camille looped her hand around his elbow.
“And I don’t ever want to be again,” he said as though it was final.
They came to a stop in front of a brownstone. “Go home, feed, shower, and no lab until morning?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Hunter said tongue in cheek, turning to go up the stairs.
Camille’s gaze filled with sadness. “Goodnight.”
Hunter saw her reaction and came back down the steps, sliding his finger under her chin. “What’s wrong?”
Camille shook her head, forcing a smile. “It’s just . . .” She hesitated.
“What?” he probed.
“When you do find the cure . . .” She gazed up at him with tears welling in her eyes, “I’ll miss you.”
Hunter pulled her into an embrace. “Camille.” He searched for the perfect words to put her mind at ease. He led her to the stepped and sat with her. “You always tell the story of when I found you in Paris, you say that I saved you.”
“You did. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through that first year without you,” she said, her tears spilling over.
“Do you want to know the truth?” He smiled. “You saved me. I was in such a dark place, I had nothing to live for. You gave me a reason to stay alive, you helped me discover my humanity . . . again.” His insistence was genuine.
“You are one of the kindest men I know.” Camille wiped a tear from her eye.
“I doubt that, but the point is . . .” He inhaled a breath, “You have Sophie. You’re older, wiser, and you’re going to be fine without me.”
“I know I’ll be fine, it doesn’t mean I won’t miss you,” she said.
“If I make it to Valhalla, you’ll know, and you’ll have a part of me with you forever,” he said, standing up.
“I will always have our memories.” Her eyes gleamed. “You’re one-of-a-kind, Hunter, and I’m glad we saved each other.”
“Indeed, I’m going to feed and watch some TV or something. Will that make you happy?” Sarcasm ruled his tone.
“Yes.” She nodded affirmatively. “We’ll start–”
Hunter held his hand up, halting her speech. “Do you hear that?”
“No.” Camille looked in the same direction listening, she turned to speak to Hunter and he was already gone.
Hunter darted across the street through the park toward the sound of a woman struggling. He came upon a scene of a woman pulling to get away from a man, her attacker ripping her sleeve. Her cries for help shot through Hunter like a hot knife.
He grabbed the attacker by the neck, lifting him off his feet. “You like picking on those who are weaker than you?” he growled, trying to suppress his fangs from erupting out of anger.
The man kicked his feet, trying to get away from Hunter, and terror crossed his features at seeing Hunter’s massive size. He was unable to speak; his windpipe was being crushed.
The woman was still screaming as Camille arrived, rolling her eyes. “Really, Hunter? Another damsel in distress?”
Hunter didn’t acknowledge her, bringing the attacker closer to his face. “I asked you a fucking question. Do you like having power over those weaker than you?”
The man frantically shook his head no, mouthing the words, “I’m sorry.” He clawed at Hunter’s hands, trying to free himself.
“Listen to me, you piece of shit,” Hunter ground out through his teeth, struggling with the desire to snap his neck and be done with him. “I can smell the feral wolf all over you, you’re fair game and no one will blink twice if I end you right now.”
“Hunter,” a warm, creamy voice called out with an edge of warning. “Put the mugger down.”
Hunter’s eyes were red with fury, he didn’t want to release the rogue wolf. He wanted to break him in half.
“Hunter!” Camille snapped while trying to comfort the young woman. “Maxwell said to put him down.”
Hunter blinked rapidly, trying to bring himself back from his rage. The sound of Camille’s voice brought him closer to his humanity.
“Hunter, it’s okay, she’s all right. You should let him go,” she said calmly, wrapping her sweater around the woman’s shoulders before approaching Hunter. “Maxwell is here, he can handle this.”
Hunter restricted the wolf’s airflow to keep him from shifting to wolf form. The attacker’s struggling had calmed, and he was about to lose consciousness.
“Hunter, please,” Camille pleaded. “Come back to me.”
Hunter’s grip on the man loosened until he crumpled to the ground in a heap. He fully retracted his fangs and turned to the woman. “Are you okay?”
She shied away from him, nodding, but terror in her eyes betrayed her.
“Are you sure?” Camille wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulder. She turned, flashing an angry look at Hunter. “Because you seem a bit shaken.”
“No, I’m okay.” Her eyes never faltered from Hunter’s form.
“What happened?” Maxwell asked cautiously.
“Are you the police?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” Maxwell turned away from her, facing Hunter as he shook his head. “I’m going to take your statement and make sure you get home safely.”
“Did he hurt you?” Hunter asked, taking a few steps closer to the woman.
She looked down at her arms at the patches of red from where the wolf had grabbed her. “I’m okay, really.” She squinted, looking for the fangs she thought she saw.
“Let’s get you home, miss,” Maxwell said, leading her away from the scene.
&nbs
p; Her eyes went blank as her gaze fell to the ground. “Yes, I’d like to go home.” Camille released her to Maxwell’s care, and she followed as though in a trance.
Maxwell turned to Hunter, “We’ll discuss this later.”
“I’m sure we will.” Hunter looked at the attacker passed out on the ground.
“And leave him intact.” Maxwell ticked his head toward the bushes. “Landry has it from here. Go home.”
A large wolf let out a low growl from behind the bushes. Hunter knew he was going to get a lot of shit for this and he didn’t care.
He was tired of wolves having the run of the city, being allowed to do whatever they wanted. Terrorizing humans, claiming territory in the middle of a city like Toronto. It really chapped his ass and he was tired of it.
He fixed his gaze on the wolf and took a step toward him. Another growl from the bushes reminded him he was being watched.
“Let’s go.” Camille tugged at his sleeve. “You were about to go feed and rest, no more vigilante vampire for you tonight.”
Hunter reluctantly followed Camille. More for her than himself. He was never afraid of The Directive or their retribution. He still believed it would be an honor to die in battle, and on a night like this he really didn’t care who the enemy was.
Rage coursed through his veins as they made their way back to his brownstone. “You know that’s a bunch of shit. They aren’t going to do anything about this. This is the third time this week and it’s unacceptable.”
“You can’t save every woman getting mugged in the park,” Camille said, patting him on the back. “I know you mean well, but you’re going to end up getting yourself killed or worse, locked up in one of The Directive’s cells. You’re lucky Maxwell understands.”
“Maxwell is an asshole. He should grow a pair and stand up the wolves here. I can’t imagine The Directive is okay with how they are allowed to run the city.” His arms flailed wildly as he went on a rant. “Those fucking dogs are always up to no good. What the hell kind of vampire is Maxwell anyway? Fucking idiot.” His jaw popped with tension.
Camille let him continue to babble on to let his frustration out. This wasn’t just about the werewolves. “Hunter, I know things are hard right now, but you’ve got to rein in your anger. Maybe you need more than a night to rest and get away.”
A Vampire's Thirst Page 2
