Fashionably Fanged: Book Eight, The Hot Damned Series

by Robyn Peterman

  The temptation was so intense that I stepped back and fisted my hands at my sides. Graphic images of my slain family blinded me to reason and I wanted to finish her. With Herculean effort, I stood as still as a statue, willing myself not to grab a weapon. My hands were as deadly as any dagger, but…

  “Help me,” she choked out through the blood gurgling in her throat. “Please.”

  She was face down and had no idea that the person she was begging for help wanted her dead more than any one else in the world. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I had a choice. Win in the moment or win in the long run. The recent memory of the expression on Gareth’s face as he realized he was happy was the only thing that kept me from taking her life. He was going to be my world and I needed the trash on the floor to ensure that I could have my happily ever after.

  So I wasn’t going to kill her yet, but being gentle and friendly was still out of the question.

  “Well, what have we here?” I said coldly as I turned her over with my foot so she could see me. I wasn’t rough, but the disrespect it showed was satisfying.

  “Oh my God,” she choked out. Her eyes grew wide and terrified with recognition. She made a feeble attempt to crawl away. Stepping on the obscenely short skirt she was wearing, I stopped her movement.

  “No, no, no,” she moaned as her body convulsed with shock and pain. “I’m dreaming.”

  “Nope. This is a living nightmare.” I squatted down and flashed my fangs. “You’re wide awake and I’m a very real monster.”

  She stared at me for a long moment and time seemed to freeze. The expression on her face chilled me to the bone—I’d seen it too many times in my human life not to place it. Claudia had the look in her eyes of a horribly abused woman—not just tonight—from centuries of abuse at the hands of others. Juliette had the very same beaten down look.

  I stood and turned away. I had no idea what her life had really been like. For all I knew, she’d been living high on the hog for centuries since her turning. She would never have my sympathy. Ever.

  The sound of the wood splintering as I punched the door in frustration was satisfying. My fury burned through my veins. The door was a poor excuse for her face, but her face had already been pummeled.

  “Just do it,” she begged. “Kill me.”

  Her voice was harsh and broken as if her undead life had been awful. I didn’t care. I hoped it had been. She deserved it.

  “Why would you think for a second that I would do anything for you that would make your existence easier?” I asked tonelessly, watching her bleed out before my eyes.

  Wait. Why wasn’t she healing? She was a Vampyre. Her wounds should be knitting together.

  “Finish it. I don’t want to live like this anymore.”

  “Tough shit,” I snapped as I bent down and scooped the bloody monstrosity into my arms then carried her into my suite. “You owe me and you’re going to agree to pay if I help you.”

  “You’re not going to kill me?”

  Claudia’s body trembled and she was even slighter than I remembered. If it was Vlad who’d done this, he’d worked her over good.

  “Not yet,” I replied tightly, trying to block all feelings of compassion for her. She’d shown none to me or my people in my human life. I’d show none to her in her undead one.

  “What happened to you?” I demanded as I put her down on the couch and backed away for her safety and my sanity.

  She said nothing—simply watched me. Her blood was staining the couch, but with the demolished state of the room the blood fit right in.

  “I asked you a question,” I snapped. “You’re in no position to defy me at the moment.”

  “Will you kill me if I do?” she asked in a hopeful voice.

  What the Hell? She was offering me my revenge on a platter and I wasn’t going to take it.

  Gareth’s face flashed in my mind—I needed her alive to keep him alive. If refraining from killing the woman I despised with every fiber of my being wasn’t love, I didn’t know the meaning of the word. Gareth was more important to me than seeking vengeance.

  “No. You think you’re in pain now? It’s nothing compared to what I’ll do to you if you don’t answer me.”

  Her wince and gut-wrenching sob made me inwardly cringe with shame. Had I gone soft? My instincts were screwed up. The truth was that I should feel nothing for the horrid woman on my couch—absolutely nothing. I’d simply been an animal to her and her husband—never a human being. I wanted to treat her the same way they’d treated me and my family, but something felt wrong. The Kev’s voice rang in my head with the cryptic message he’d spoken… Things are not always as they seem. You would be wise to take that to heart and listen to your instincts even if they don’t tell you what you want to hear.

  Damn The Kev to Hell and back. There were too many puzzle pieces coming together in one night.

  “Did Vlad do this to you?” I asked in what I hoped passed for a civil tone.

  The look of fear on her face confirmed my assumption. She nodded slowly then closed her eyes. She was still bleeding out. What exactly had he done to her? She would do me no good as a pile of ash.

  “Why?”

  “Because I wouldn’t have sex with him,” she muttered and then choked out an ugly laugh. “He told me he wouldn’t be denied next time and that this little punishment should be a warning.”

  God, he was a sick piece of shit.

  “Why aren’t you healing?”

  “Why do you care?” she shot back weakly.

  I ran my hands through my hair and considered her question. I hated her and everything she represented. I also needed her. My motives were not even close to pure. You can never get fucked for the truth according to Gareth.

  “Honestly, I don’t care. When I found out you were alive, my greatest desire was to kill you. I can’t believe I missed you all those years ago. But I need you to help me get the bastard that did this to you. And you will help me.”

  Claudia opened her eyes and tried to focus on me. She was fading fast—she needed blood.

  “You have to tell me why you’re not healing. Now,” I insisted, approaching her warily.

  “My back,” she moaned. “He carved something into my back with silver. I think there’s still silver in there.”

  “He touched silver?” I asked, surprised. Juliette was incorrect about his deadly aversion.

  “Gloves,” Claudia whispered as her body jerked in agony. “Didn’t touch it—wore gloves.”

  Gently turning her over and lifting her shirt, I gasped and felt the bile rise in my throat. She was correct there were bits of silver embedded in her skin. The sick son of a bitch had carved Vlad’s Whore into her back and the silver ensured it would probably never fade.

  “Hang on,” I said as I sprinted to the door that connected my room to Martha and Jane’s.

  Throwing it open, I stopped dead in my tracks. Both of them had slathered on thick, goopy green facemasks and they were painting each other’s toenails. The kicker was they were clad in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles nightgowns. It was beyond weird.

  “I need you now,” I said ignoring my need to ask about the nightwear. However, I remembered that Astrid had packed for them. Maybe this was her idea of a joke.

  “You want your toenails done?” Martha asked, holding up a bottle of purple polish.

  “No, pull up your sleeves. You’re about to feed the enemy.”

  “Hot damn,” Jane yelled jumping up and jogging over. “Whoa Nelly! What the hey-hey? We’re gonna be blood donors for Vlad?”

  “Absolutely not,” I said, grabbing them and sprinting back to my room. “You’re going to feed Claudia—the woman we need to help us trap Vlad.”

  “Sweet Jesus in a jockstrap.” Martha whistled as she took in the destroyed walls and furniture. “You sure got a shitty room. I’d get my money back if I were you.”

  “You said it sister.” Jane’s head bobbled in agreement then she spotted Claudia on the couch. “What
in the ever lovin’ fuck is wrong with her?” she asked, yanking up her sleeve and squatting down in front of the dying Vampyre.

  “Vlad did it. I have to remove the silver from her back while she feeds from you. As much as I’ve dreamt about her being a pile of ash, this is wrong.”

  “On it, Boss Lady,” Martha said, carefully adjusting Claudia so I could work on her back while the gals took turns feeding her.

  “Silver’s gonna burn you,” Jane told me with a shudder. “I can’t even touch the shit. Goes right through my skin.”

  “I can touch it briefly if it hasn’t been blessed,” Martha said, pressing her wrist to Claudia’s mouth. “Some of that Vampyre bull honkey from the movies is actually true.”

  “Not all of it,” Jane grunted with disgust. “Wanted to see if I would sparkle in the sun so I ran outside in my birthday suit. Damn near burned my hooters clean off my body. The Twilight movie is fucking loaded with bullshit information. Just sayin’.”

  Holy Hell, how did they know things I didn’t? Not the sparkling part—the blessed silver part… I’d been a Vampyre for over two hundred years. They’d been undead for less than two.

  “Want me to do it so I get burned instead of you?” Martha asked.

  “Your nice is showing,” I told her as she grew on me even a little more. “But no thank you. Gemma did some voodoo and I can touch silver with my right hand for a while.”

  “Roger that,” Jane said as she gently held Claudia’s head so the blood wouldn’t run out of her mouth.

  Tearing the back of her shirt open I began to meticulously remove the slivers of silver from the horrifying message written in her skin. Putting the offending material in a vase, I muttered a quick and heartfelt thanks to Gemma. Thankfully the silver came out easily, but I stiffened in shock when I noticed something else.

  Claudia had very faint scars all over her back—long and thin. Gently pulling the waistband of her skirt down a bit I saw that they covered her bottom and the upper part of her thighs. The need to scream or beat the hell out of someone boiled within me. Backing away quickly so I didn’t accidentally hurt her more than she’d already been damaged, I tried to rein in my outrage. I recognized those marks. I had them myself.

  However, I’d already beat on the man who’d left those marks on me—and I’d killed him. Now I’d bet my undead life it was the same man who left those scars on Claudia.

  The silver was gone and to my astonishment, so was my hatred of the woman. Could one horrifying revelation erase centuries of loathing? Had she suffered like I had—felt the burning lash of a whip on her skin? Like my family had?

  I knew the answer. Most of me wanted to deny the truth, but the evidence was forever branded on her skin. So many questions raced through my mind, but the words refused to leave my lips.

  “Are you Vampyres?” Claudia asked Martha and Jane in a hoarse voice.

  Her voice was stronger and the bleeding had slowed.

  “You bet your fuckin’ bippy we’re Vampyres,” Jane said, popping a fang to prove her undead status.

  “But you’re old,” Claudia said in confusion.

  “Speak for yourself,” Martha snapped, insulted. “I’m in my mother humpin’ eighties. How the Hell old are you?”

  “In my two hundreds,” Claudia admitted, gingerly sitting up and taking in her surroundings. “What happened to your room?”

  “I was bored,” I replied with a shrug, still trying to formulate my thoughts and tamp down my emotions. My room was none of her business. “I have some questions for you.”

  “I’m sure you do,” she replied. “However, before you speak I need to know something.”

  Nodding, I got up and moved to the other side of the room. I still didn’t completely trust myself with her. Seeing her brought back horrifying memories. If I was brutally honest, I had to admit that she was never part of the torture and humiliation. It was always the men—especially her husband. She was just the beautiful white woman we would see every now and then.

  “Was it you? Did you kill him?” she asked with nothing to hint at how she felt about what she was asking.

  Tilting my head and narrowing my eyes, I noticed Martha and Jane backing away. They recognized the look.

  “And if I did?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  “If you did, then I thank you,” she replied, still watching me carefully. “I wanted to do it myself, but by the time I was able to make my way back, he’d already been butchered. It was apparently so grisly I assumed it was someone undead like me.”

  “It was no less grisly than the murders of my family by your husband’s hand,” I snarled, remembering far too much. It was seeing Claudia that broke the compartmental organization in my brain. It was all coming back—things I buried hundreds of years ago—all in vivid and heart breaking color.

  Claudia lowered her head and clasped her hands together on her lap. “He deserved every second of what you did and more for all of his unspeakable atrocities. I hope the bastard is burning in the fires of Hell.”

  This was not happening at all like I’d thought it would go down when I came face to face with my foe. Was she for real or was she playing me to avoid my wrath? If it was an act, she deserved an Oscar, but the scars on her back were very real and had clearly been made by a whip.

  God help me and her if she’s lying. But my instincts were insisting she was telling the truth. I didn’t like my damn instincts at that moment, but I was going to trust them.

  “Want some more?” Jane offered her wrist to the healing Claudia. “If not, I gotta go get this mask off my face. It’s itching like a motherfucker.”

  “I’m good. Thank you,” Claudia said with a slightly bemused expression as she took in the entirety of Martha and Jane.

  “You need us, Boss Lady?” Martha asked.

  “No. Get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long one.”

  “Roger that,” Martha said as Jane saluted and they made their way back to their own suite.

  “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?” Claudia asked with a soft laugh.

  I wanted to join her, but it felt like a betrayal to my family to just jump in and be buddies. It was going to take some time for me to let go of the past—even if she wasn’t directly involved.

  “We need to talk about Vlad,” I told her, ignoring her attempt to lighten the mood. I wasn’t willing to go there with her—I might never be able to—but that had nothing to do with the here and now.

  She was a person—a person I no longer hated—but she brought back memories that my worst nightmares were made of. Yet I realized with a sickening jolt of conscience that if I hadn’t needed her to catch Vlad, I wouldn’t have even bothered to find out anything about her before I killed her. Looking to the Heavens, I said a silent thank you to God for all of his blessings. The lesson sitting on the sofa was not lost on me.

  “Yes, we need to discuss Vlad,” she said as her eyes went slightly unfocused with fear. “We do. What did he carve into my back?”

  Should I tell her? Shit, would she freak?

  “Vlad’s Whore,” I said quietly. I’d want to know and there was no way to sugar coat it.

  She was silent as she took it in. I was unsure if she realized it was probably always going to be there since he’d used silver. Her face held no hint of her feelings. I didn’t see anger, embarrassment or fury. There was nothing. It was the same way my mother looked after she’d been inhumanly punished for no reason other than the color of her skin.

  “You okay?” I asked quietly. My instinct was to comfort her, but my body wouldn’t agree yet.

  “I suppose we’re all whores in on way or another,” she said flatly. “I’ll just wear it on my skin now.”

  “You sound like Tiara,” I said.

  She glanced up sharply. Her face immediately filled with pain and something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. The fact that she was branded by a monster elicited nothing, but the mention of Tiara brought on a maelstrom of emotion.

&n
bsp; “She can’t know this happened to me,” Claudia insisted frantically. “She’ll go after him. He’ll kill her. Oh God, oh God, oh God.” She began to pace the room while wringing her hands in agitation. “Please swear not to tell her and I’ll do anything you want me to.”

  She was in love with Tiara. I recognized it because I was in love too. I’d die for Gareth and it was very apparent that Claudia would do the same for Tiara.

  “Why’d you leave her if you still love her?” I asked.

  Claudia stopped, shook her head and smiled. “I see you’ve met her and she talked your ear off.”

  “You could say that,” I replied, making no mention of Tiara’s voice from Hell or the fact that she’d hit on me.

  “It’s better this way—for her. I’m not a prize. I carry horrible baggage and…”

  “Shouldn’t that be her decision to make?” I demanded getting annoyed at having just had a very similar conversation. “You love her?”

  “Yes, but love isn’t always enough.”

  “I call bullshit, but that’s your problem, not mine. Who turned you?” I asked, hoping to Hell and back she wasn’t about to tell me it was a beautiful man with green eyes.

  “My lover—a woman. She died over a hundred years ago. She was a good person.”

  “You’ve always been gay?” I asked surprised. It wasn’t common back when we were human or at least I wasn’t aware of it.

  “Have you always been black?” she asked making her point of my insensitivity very clear.

  “I apologize,” I said, duly and correctly chastised. “But you were married to him. I just thought…”

  “In those days, it’s what a woman did. My parents basically sold me to him for land. A good daughter married. She had children. She was the property of the man she married. She never complained and always did what she was told,” Claudia said sounding more robot than human.

  “Children?”

  “No, thank God. I never conceived. It would have been a child born of rape if I had. He thought I was frigid. I let him believe the lie because it meant I could keep my true nature a secret. He hated me and let me know in many ways.