Hunting Season (Aurora Sky

by Nikki Jefford

  Mason wasn’t the smiling type. He was more like an ox who could knock a person down in two seconds flat if he wanted.

  “Let’s go,” Mason said to me.

  “What kind of name is Levi, anyway?” I heard Jared ask behind us. “Is your mamma valley trash or something?”

  “Why you asking about my mamma?” Levi responded in a phony yokel accent.

  “I sucked her last weekend,” Jared said.

  “She taste any good?”

  “Lot better than your nasty ass blood.”

  I stormed off the porch, Mason on my heels.

  “How can you work with those two?” I asked.

  Mason’s eyebrows knit. “What do you mean?”

  I sighed in exasperation. If he had to ask, it wasn’t worth trying to explain. “Never mind.”

  I shook my head and walked toward the Hummer parked in the driveway. And I thought the Jeep was big. What kind of missions did Melcher send this guy on? Up mountain passes? Across the tundra?

  Or maybe it made Mason feel like a badass brute, not that he needed a Hummer for that.

  A light went off inside a house across the street. Further down, a car started up. My neighbors were turning in or headed out for the night, going about their business. Here I was, smack dab in the middle of suburbia, but my life was nothing like theirs. I was off to hunt vampires. I was a vampire. A freak of nature. Destined by blood to live forever.

  Levi’s laughter hit my back. The high-pitched raucous made me glower even when I wasn’t looking at him.

  I hoisted myself into the Hummer, quickly slamming the door over Levi’s chuckling voice.

  Mason got in and started the beast up. He waited for Jared to pull into the road behind us before leading the two vehicle convey to the hillside.

  11

  Vamp Bait

  The Hummer gripped the dirt road once we reached the hillside and zigzagged up the mountain. The corners of Mason’s lips lifted ever so slightly. Guys and their machines. Behind us Jared kept pace. Maybe if I envisioned his car plunging off the cliff’s edge enough times, it would come true. Poetic justice. Giselle would simply have to accept his mangled body and move on. It wouldn’t be my fault if he had an accident.

  All too soon, the stone pillars marking the drive of the lodge appeared behind the Hummer’s headlights. Oh, joy.

  Our small convey drove in.

  Mason came to a stop behind a Mercedes-Benz. A man in his mid-thirties, dressed in a black suit, stepped out and handed his keys to the valet before proceeding to the front door. When the car pulled away, Mason took its spot and waited wordlessly.

  The valet appeared three minutes later, striding up the drive towards Mason’s door. Before he reached it, Mason stepped out. He left his door open. I listened for the valet to ask his name, but before he could say anything, Mason reached for the old man’s head and twisted it so fast not one word was ever exchanged.

  My breath caught in my throat. I knew it was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier to witness.

  The valet fell out of my line of view, and all I could do is stare at the space he’d occupied seconds before.

  Jared cut off his engine behind us. A door, followed by another, quickly opened and closed.

  Jared walked up to Mason and said, “Good work.”

  Mason made no expression. His lips puffed out, neither in a smile nor frown. “Help me move him,” he said to Levi.

  The two of them bent down, straightening slowly. Together they walked sideways toward the bushes lining the driveway, just beyond the glow of the lighted entry. As they receded, I was able to make out the limp body of the valet.

  I faced forward and shook my head slowly from side to side. I’d just witnessed the murder of a human. There wasn’t a thing I could do for him or the butler.

  My door opened, and I gave a little start. I hadn’t noticed Jared come around to my side.

  “My lady,” he said, sweeping into a mock bow. “Allow me the honor of escorting you into the party.” He held his hand out.

  I was too sick to glare at him. I stepped down numbly, ignoring his outstretched arm.

  “The big guy did him a favor,” Jared said. “The old man was on his last legs, anyway.”

  I made no response. Reason was lost on Jared. Saying anything was a waste of breath.

  Mason and Levi strode over to rejoin us once their hands were empty.

  “Nice little workout before the main event,” Levi said.

  Mason looked between us before resuming his way up the cold, stone steps. The red wine couldn’t come close to numbing me from what he was about to do. He moved ahead of us. Jared held me back as I followed.

  “Let Mason clear the way first,” he said.

  Mason pounded on the front door. When it opened, I shut my eyes. I couldn’t watch. Nausea gripped me. In high school I’d been one of the few students who turned and walked away from the crowds that gathered around hall fights. I hated violence. It made my insides ill. And here I was in the thick of it. Blood on my hands. Fighting. Killing. Watching innocent people die.

  “I think I’m going to throw up,” I said, turning suddenly to the edge of the stairway.

  As I curled over, Jared gripped me by my upper arms and straightened me up, scowl on his lips.

  “Don’t you dare,” he said. “I don’t want your barf breath turning our targets off.”

  This time, I managed to glare at him. “You make me sick.”

  “Just so long as you keep it inside,” he said.

  I pulled out of his grasp.

  “Clear,” Mason called out.

  Jared gave me a pointed stare. “After you.”

  I climbed the last of the stairs and walked into the lodge. There was no sign of the butler inside the entry. Mason was as quick as he was ruthless. And Levi got an obvious kick out of anything deranged. Quite the dream team Jared had here.

  The living room was empty, thank god.

  We passed the staircase leading downstairs. Soft chatter and music drifted from below. The four of us passed by in silence. We circled around and came across a wider open staircase leading up. A burgundy carpet runner ran up the middle of the dark wooden stairs.

  As we ascended, I willed my body and mind to go numb. I needed to get through tonight unscathed.

  At the top of the stairs, we entered a wide hallway lined with windows. The lights of downtown Anchorage glowed in the distance below. The hallway led into a high-ceilinged open area with an antique rug centered in front of a leather sofa and chairs.

  A young man in a suit sat on one of the chairs, one leg crossed over the other, a brown leather book in his lap. A thin set of printed sheets were stacked on an oak coffee table.

  “Good evening and welcome,” he said in a voice that sounded like it belonged to someone much older. “May I have your names, please?” He opened the book as he spoke.

  “The von Trapps,” Levi said with a grin. “Party of four.”

  The guy stared down at his book, forehead wrinkling a moment later. “I don’t see any of those. Did you register under different names?”

  His head was still bent as Mason approached. The guy didn’t look up until Mason stood directly in front of him. He reached his hands forward. I closed my eyes in the nick of time, but couldn’t block out the sickening crack that followed.

  If I was going to walk out of there tonight with my sanity in check, I couldn’t have the image of Mason snapping necks left and right festering inside my brain.

  I wondered if the guy had been human or vampire. A weird mix of horror and relief rushed over me. Despite screwing our plan up, I was relieved Jared had come to the lodge rather than the palace. If he or one of his partners had gotten his hands anywhere near Fane’s neck, I didn’t know how I would have continued to live. And for me, living could end up being a very long time… or short, depending on how the evening went.

  There was movement. I kept my eyes tightly closed until Jared said, “Haul his carcass
out of sight.”

  While Jared’s sidekicks disappeared down the hall with the body, I moved to the coffee table to read the printout. It was a list of wine types by room number. Or, more to the point, human wine girls by room number.

  When the guys returned, Jared said, “Time to rock and roll.”

  Levi chuckled. “I’m ready to rock if you’re ready to roll.”

  Jared handed the thin leather book to Levi. He pointed to where the now dead guy had been sitting. “Take his place,” he said to Levi, “and see to it that all our esteemed guests don’t leave before visiting room eight.”

  Levi’s smile drooped for a second, before lifting back up. “Aye aye captain.”

  “Now let’s get setup,” Jared said to Mason and me. He led the way into a second hallway off the small open living area. The whole hallway was lined with doors. Each had a brass number nailed to it at eye-level. Some were closed, and some were ajar. From Melcher's comment earlier, closed meant occupied and ajar meant unoccupied. No silver bats in this joint.

  Jared marched down to the last room, number eight. It was open about half a foot. Jared held the door open while Mason and I went in. He followed behind us and closed the door.

  A young brunette woman in a short red dress with spaghetti straps lay on top of a queen-sized four poster bed. The satin bedspread was black—probably to help mask any blood splotches. There was an antique ceramic washbasin and stack of small neatly folded towels on top of an oak stand. Beside the stand, a wicker hamper had several bloodied towels tossed in.

  The room had been dimmed. A lamp on either side of the bed glowed over the woman. Her eyes were closed as though she were asleep or passed out. There was an open wound on her neck and wrist. Jared walked to the edge of the bed and studied the woman. He turned and stared at me. The way he looked from my neck to my arm put me instantly on edge. He didn’t have to say anything for me to know he’d have to cut me the same way as the wine girl. At least it was better than being bitten. A cut was much cleaner than teeth.

  Jared turned back to the woman and snapped his fingers twice in front of her face. She didn’t respond. “This one’s juiced.”

  “They’re all juiced,” I said. “They’re wine girls.”

  Jared looked me up and down. “Yeah, and you’re not juiced enough.”

  I lifted my nose. “There isn’t enough wine in the world to make your company tolerable.”

  Jared’s eyes narrowed. “Enjoy taunting me while you can, Raven. One of these days I’m going to rip your wings right off.”

  Was that his cryptic way of saying my arms? I shuttered. At least Melcher’s informant had come through and knocked out the girls. I wouldn’t want to see Mason’s hands on their necks even if they were selling their bodies and blood to vamps.

  Jared turned to Mason. “Take the girl to another room and close the door. Close the door on any room that’s not in use.”

  Mason pulled the unconscious woman off the bed and hoisted her over his broad shoulder.

  Jared pointed at me. “You, on the bed. Keep your mouth shut and let the animals feed. Once they’re convulsing, I’ll kill them. Hold up,” Jared said to Mason. “After I’ve made the kill, you’ll drag the bodies out and stash them in an empty room. I’ll signal you when we’re ready.”

  Mason nodded before heading out of the room with the woman.

  “One last thing,” Jared said, pulling out a pocketknife. He flicked open a blade and smiled as he approached me. “Try not to scream.”

  As if I’d give him the pleasure. I turned my chin sideways to give him access to my neck.

  “Just don’t slit my throat,” I said.

  I tried not to flinch as Jared looked over my skin. The jerk was taking his sweet time—probably trying to make me more nervous than I already was. I was almost relieved when he made the first cut in my neck.

  I cried out, despite myself. The cool blade sliced through my skin with an ease that sent sick chills through my body.

  I met Jared’s eye. “Aren’t you going to cut my arm?”

  Jared glanced at my arm briefly. “The neck is enough.”

  I sighed heavily before walking over to the bed. There was room behind the lamp on the nightstand to set my clutch. Having the switchblade within reach was a small comfort.

  I lowered myself onto the edge of the bed first, scooted into the middle and lay down. My neck ached as I lifted my head to keep an eye on Jared’s movements.

  “Good,” he said. “Now follow the example of the wine girl. Eyes closed. Mouth shut.”

  “Got it,” I said, not masking my irritation.

  Jared hid himself inside the bathroom. Luckily he kept his trap shut after that, too. I laid my head back, waiting.

  All you have to do is lie here, I told myself. What we were doing was hideous, and I hated it, but it was easy. Focus on easy. I stared at the ceiling, unable to close my eyes. Easy didn’t equal relaxing. My stomach was tied into knots as if I was waiting for the gynecologist to walk in. Hmm, this actually didn’t seem as bad as that. My little joke cheered me for half a heartbeat.

  Time ticked by slowly. I looked around, but there were no clocks. I was starting to feel bored when footsteps entered the room. A young man in his late twenties sauntered in holding a glass of red wine by the stem. He wore a fitted suit and held himself up as though he were someone of great importance.

  Get over yourself, guy. I’d help him with that in about three minutes, give or take.

  “Well, hello there,” he said, noticing me staring at him.

  “Hi.”

  He came around the bed, stopping a couple feet away, and stared at me. His eyes didn’t go anywhere else, even when he lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip.

  Okay, was he just going to stand there sipping wine, watching me? No, not creepy or annoying in the least bit.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Would you care for a sip?” he asked.

  “No, thanks.” What the hell? He was supposed to do the sipping, not me.

  “Oh, right,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re not supposed to mix wines. My apologies.” He pulled his eyes off me to glance around the room, after which he set his glass on top of a dresser. He turned back to me, stopping two feet away. “Do you taste as good as you look?”

  I lifted my head. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

  He grinned. “You’re a lot spunkier than the girl in room five.”

  “Not everyone can hold their liquor,” I said.

  The guy’s grin widened. “I happen to enjoy a little conversation over drinks.”

  “Lucky you.”

  He took a step closer. My body tensed.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked.

  I turned my head sideways to look him in the eyes. “Actually, I’m bored.”

  The man’s chest rose. His lips twitched as though unsure of whether to smile or frown. Finally he smiled and said, “Allow me to alleviate your boredom.”

  With that, he eased onto the bed and leaned into my neck. I waited for his wet tongue to touch my skin, but he took his sweet time breathing me in. At least he was well-groomed and hygienic opposed to some of the less savory characters I’d had to deal with.

  While I was waiting for him to suck on my skin, I didn’t notice his hand at my side until he ran it over my breast. I immediately sat up and slapped his hand. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  He smiled and shrugged. “You’re a beautiful woman. Can you blame me?”

  Was this how he treated all wine girls? I wanted to spew. Suddenly I didn’t mind killing this pervert.

  “You’re here to taste, not touch,” I snapped.

  He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Beg your pardon, darling. I thought you might enjoy a more personal connection.”

  Yetch! Was that the fancy term for groping? I despised this guy more with every passing second.

  “Think again.”

  The guy looked side to s
ide and leaned in, whispering as though conspiring with me. “Let’s not mention this little misunderstanding to Diederick. I swear I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ve never felt drawn to a woman until I saw you. There’s this magnetism surrounding you that’s nearly impossible to resist.”

  Someone hand me my switchblade! I was ready to stab this sucker myself convulsions be damned. My jaw ached as I ground my teeth together.

  The man cleared his throat dramatically. “Let’s start over, shall we?”

  “Better yet, why don’t you shut up and suck my blood already,” I said, turning my neck for emphasis.

  “I like talking.”

  “This is a tasting.”

  Asshole.

  His face lit up like this was all a fun game or some kind of foreplay in his sick mind. I was ready to end it.

  I scooted closer to him and flashed my first smile before leaning in. “Suck my blood, and I might let you touch the other one.”

  When I pulled back, his grin stretched wide.

  “I knew I liked you best,” he said.

  He wouldn’t feel that way in a few seconds. He leaned forward. No more chit-chat. He pressed his tongue against my wound roughly, licked, and swallowed.

  His eyebrows jumped. That was the last time he smiled. His body shuddered and jerked from his waist up, as though the poison hadn’t worked its way down to his legs quite yet.

  He tried reaching for me, but I scooted back as his fingers narrowly missed my leg. Instead, his fingers slid over the satin sheets as he tumbled off the side of the bed onto the floor.

  I swung my legs to the ground. Once standing, I folded my arms as I watched him shake on the floor.

  My heart held no sympathy for a groper who took advantage of drunk women. I wondered if this was how lives of crime began—this slippery slope of justification.

  “You can come out now,” I called, not taking my eyes off my victim.