Not An Angel (A Poryria Vampire Novel (Book 1))

by Dawn Chartier

  Something warm brushed her arm. Her eyes flew open afraid of a roach, spider or worse, a rat. Instead, a shadow loomed over her. Jeff. Her hands pushed out, connecting with his chest. “What are you doing in here? Get out!”

  His cold stare caused the hair on her neck and arms to stand up. He waved a small paperclip in the air, and threw it on the bed. “The lock was an easy pick.” His eyes narrowed. “I saw you with him.”

  “Get out!” she screamed, then shoved him hard with her arms and sprinted for the door. Pulling it half-open before he slammed it shut in her face. She fought hard; she wouldn’t be a victim for him.

  One hand wrapped around her neck, holding something cold and sharp against it. “You listen to me, or I’ll kill you.” With her back to him, he raised her shirt and ran his hand along the rim of her pants. “I’ll be the only man touching you from now on.” He tugged the blade harder against her skin. “You hear me! I’ll wait for you no more!”

  Kira’s knees weakened. She held the whimper inside her throat. “Yes.”

  This was not happening. What the hell was wrong with him? She’d just survived a million to one chance of jumping off a bridge, and now Jeff thought he could take her life just like that. She wouldn’t allow it. She’d fight back, but she had to wait for the perfect moment.

  Jeff ground his hard-on against her backside. “Did you fuck him?”

  “Let go of me.” She couldn’t pull away because the knife would cut her. She stood as still as she could on trembling legs. “Jeff, let me go.”

  Her fingers itched to reach for her sling around her neck, but he was too close. The stone on the necklace wouldn’t do any damage at this range. Several years of practice told her he had to be numerous feet away in order for the impact to work.

  He moved the blade down to the front of her shirt. “Doesn’t look like you’re in the position to tell me what to do.” He jerked her against him. Blood trickled down her neck.

  He smiled. “Matter of fact, it’s not the position I want you in at all.” He paused. “Down on your knees.”

  When she didn’t listen he gripped her hair and pulled. “I said get the fuck down on your knees.” He leaned over and licked her neck up toward her ear. The stench of stale alcohol inched in her nose and bile crawled up her throat. She gagged.

  “Beg me to take you.” He twisted her around to face him.

  His eyes were wild. She shook her head as nausea churned in her stomach. Jeff had said and done cruel things before, but she had no idea he’d lost his mind. “Why are you doing this?”

  She slowly sank to her knees.

  His hand shot out and grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it away from skin, with the flick of his blade, her shirt was in shreds. “You’re mine. I saw you first, not Steve.” His gaze slid down, her flesh crawled as she read the sick thoughts going through his mind. “No bra. You were waiting for me, weren’t you?” He licked his lips again. “You want me. I knew it.”

  Kira regretted taking it off before she’d fallen asleep. Too late. “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t. Please stop this.”

  Pain shot through her as he gripped a hand full of her hair, and pulled her up. She rose on unsteady feet, and then he turned her, and pushed her face first on top of the bed.

  *******

  The moon lit the sky like a candle in a windowsill as the wind stirred. Dogs barked in the distance while small shadows climbed across the brick walls. Rats.

  Restless, Trace and Mike searched the sleeping city for the Vrykolakas. Not one Vry to be found. “The streets are empty. I don’t feel them.” Trace lifted his arm. No raised patterns or burning sensations on his skin. Trace relied on his external alert system (even though it hurt like hell) as much as he did his internal one.

  “I’d thought for certain at least one would be out playing tonight. The moon is full, the perfect time for them to mate or kill or both.” That was the only thing the Vry did. They’d mate, but couldn’t produce. A blessing to mortals and immortals. That didn’t stop the Vry from changing or killing humans. It’s why he still hunted them. Innocents didn’t deserve to be tortured like that.

  Trace regarded the soft glow in the sky. “Yep, perfect timing.” His thoughts traveled back to the woman whose lips he’d almost tasted. He bit the inside of his mouth drawing blood, wanting to caress her with his hands, and to feel her delicate body writhe beneath his. He glared at his cell phone-watch gadget. No missed calls. Why hadn’t she called him? Was she still on the road? He hoped not. It was late, and the highways were dangerous for a woman to travel alone. A frustrated sigh escaped him. Maybe he’d get the chance to meet her again in his dreams. Even though dreaming was not common for him.

  Normally, Poryrias only dreamed of the future. His were different.

  A shadow zoomed across an old large abandoned metal building. He didn’t have to glance at his arm to know it was on fire from the inside out. Vry.

  “Let’s go,” Mike said, running after the shadow. Trace buried the pain and followed on Mike’s heels. Mike was still too new to handle the Vry alone, but he’d give him the chance to prove himself. The ugly rogue cornered itself near a dumpster and a twelve foot fence. Once the Vry realized he was being followed, it turned hissing, baring its red and yellow stained fangs.

  “You can come quietly.” Mike paused. “Or you can come out swinging the way I like.” Mike laughed. “Swing…batter…batter…swing…”

  Trace shook his head. Something felt wrong. Rogues don’t fight, they run. Mike stood taunting the creature. Maybe this beast was an old one. One who didn’t run.

  The Vry edged out of the shadows and lunged himself into the air landing directly in front of Mike. Mike didn’t flinch. Instead he laughed. The rogue took a swing with his claws swiping the air and Mike lunged out of the way.

  “Strike one.” He removed his blade in a quick blur and buried it in the rogue’s chest. “Sorry, but that’s the only strike you get.” Mike waited for the creature to disintegrate.

  The Vry staggered. His hands gripped the knife, and inch by inch eased it from his chest. A slow smirk spread across his gruesome face. Oh hell. He should have died right on the spot. Instead the bastard peeled his black lips back, and then lunged at Mike. Mike dodged. The rogue nearly fell to the ground. Caught himself with hands extended. He swung around and snarled.

  You never warned me about this one, brother.

  Sorry, Mike. Haven’t come across this kind, but I think it’s time to end this game. Trace had enough. The sooner he got this over with the better. The only thing he looked forward to after killing the rogue was hearing Kira’s voice.

  Without warning, Trace rushed the grayish tinted creature, but before he made contact, the Vry sprung over the fence in a single leap. What the hell? Trace stood staring at nothing.

  “What the shit, man?” Mike asked almost echoing his thoughts exactly.

  Trace shrugged and his fangs receded. “I’ve no idea. He should be dead.” Once stabbed in the heart they die. At least they had until now. The council needed to know about this as soon as possible.

  Mike searched the ground. “Damn asshole took my knife,” he said then kicked a beer can into the nearby dumpster.

  Trace’s eyebrows shot up. Most Vry weren’t smart, but this one, he wasn’t so sure. “Hell. Then we have a serious problem.” His gut screamed. “Set-up”. Trace glanced at his arm. The burning symbols had disappeared. He snarled. Their failure to capture this rogue didn’t sit well with him. Something told him maybe this wasn’t the true crime scene. Maybe worse things went down elsewhere.

  He rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders. Thoughts of Kira returned. Where the hell was she? Why hadn’t she called? Deep in his bones the answer came. Trouble was ahead.

  “How serious?” Mike asked, returning him to the current problem.

  Trace blinked. He hadn’t realized he was still staring at Mike. “Depends on why the rogue kept your knife instead of using it to figh
t against you. Most rogues know one stab from the ivory Morgan’s blade and you die.”

  Trace had passed the knife to Mike when he’d begun the change. Trace wanted him to have it, because it was a part of who he was. The Morgan’s blade was the only thing the Queen had ever given to him. Ever. Now, it was gone.

  Mike threw a punch in the air. “Son of a bitch. You think that bastard will use it against me?”

  Trace stepped near the fence. His eyes followed where the rogue had leapt and then disappeared. He twisted around. “That’s exactly what I think.” But why?

  He didn’t bother to tell Mike that this rogue had more power and balls than he’d ever witnessed. Mike had already read his thoughts, and was aware Kira constantly slid her way into Trace’s mind. Not by her choice, but by his.

  He scowled at his cell phone-watch once more and silently cursed. Never in his life had he waited for phone calls. A low growl rumbled in his throat. What the hell are you doing?

  He couldn’t help it. He rubbed his palms against his jeans desperately wishing to talk to her. He should have never allowed her to leave.

  Chapter 7

  Kira’s wrists burned like fire from the white rope that bound them behind her back. Her temples throbbed from the blows to her head. As Jeff hit her, he ranted about teaching her a lesson for screwing around with another man. She winced, trying to focus on her life not being over. In order to deal with the agony, she had to bury her thoughts elsewhere. As a child, she had trained herself to center on something that took her out of the moment. Right now, that focal point was Trace.

  Watery eyes blurred her vision while thinking of him, and how she’d never see him again. She realized she’d let a piece of him slide into her heart. She hadn’t even known she had a place to let him in. I should have stayed with him. Then again, if she had Jeff might have tried to hurt Trace too. Why hadn’t she kept a close eye on the road behind her?

  Jeff yanked her to her feet from the chair. “Let’s go.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll see.” Jeff smiled. “I told you we belong together.”

  She couldn’t leave with him. She had to think of something quick. “Um. I have to go.”

  “We are.” He shoved her into the door, and pain shot through her head as soon as it made contact. She slid to the floor, and dizziness swam around in her skull. She blinked several times. “Please. I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be quick.”

  Jeff yanked her to her feet once more. “Hurry up.”

  Kira limped as quickly as she could to the bathroom and pushed the door half closed with her hip. Her gaze fell on the small window next to the toilet. It was large enough for her to squeeze through.

  “Make it fast.” He swung the door open and her purse fell from the peg.

  “I can’t go with someone watching. Please close the door.” If he thought about it, he’d realize she couldn’t pull her pants down anyway. Her hands were tied behind her. Oh God, it would probably dawn on him soon. She had to get out of there now.

  Jeff narrowed his eyes, and then closed the door leaving a small crack.

  She turned toward the window. How the hell was she going to climb up, much less open it? She choked back a sob. She couldn’t, with the ropes that tight. She sat on the toilet hoping something would come to mind.

  An odd buzz sounded in the room. The noise came from her bag on the floor. She leaned sideways, gripped the strap between her fingers and then placed the purse on the toilet lid. As she searched for the noise, she pulled out what felt like a cell phone. Slowly she placed the object on the toilet lid and turned around.

  Her heart raced. How did that get in there? It didn’t matter. She could call for help. She memorized the number buttons, then turned to clutch the phone with her bound hands.

  She hoped she’d hit the talk button and dialed what felt like 9-1-1. She eased the phone down and twisted to see what was lit on the screen. A long phone number appeared on the screen. Her brows creased. She hadn’t dialed but three numbers.

  A man’s voice came through the phone. “I see you found my surprise. You made it okay?”

  Her heart skipped at the sound of his voice. “Trace.” She slid to her knees and couldn’t breathe. “Oh God. Trace, call the police.”

  The door swung open, bouncing off the wall. She jerked forward and fell on her side hitting her head on the grimy floor. Pain sliced through her skull and she groaned.

  “What are you up to, bitch?” Jeff surged forward and gripped her hands behind her back, pulling her off the floor and firm against him.

  She screamed. “Jeff, my arms.”

  “Scream my name again and I’ll break all your fucking—” His eyes widened as he spotted the phone. “Where’d you get that from? Who did you call?” Jeff gripped the cell and placed it to his ear. “Who’s there?”

  Kira squirmed. “I didn’t call anyone. I just now opened the phone. No one is there,” she choked out, hoping Trace didn’t give himself away. She might not make it out of there if he did, and worse she couldn’t handle Trace getting hurt because of her.

  He flung her purse in the air, hitting her in the stomach and then it plopped on the floor. Then he threw the phone against the wall, scattering pieces of it, and he narrowed his eyes. “You better not be lying.”

  Bending over, he jerked her bag off the tile. “Let’s go.”

  She stumbled as he pushed her out of the bathroom. Trace had answered. Thank God. But, had he heard her? Did he hear Jeff’s name? She should have yelled the motel’s name, but it was too late now. She prayed Trace called the police.

  God only knew what would happen if Trace hadn’t heard her.

  After a shove into his truck, Jeff squeezed her arm. Someone please see what is going on. Call the police. Someone. Anyone. But there was no one.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see when we get there.” Jeff leaned over and ran his hand down her ripped blouse. Lust filled his eyes.

  Disgusted and dazed, she cringed and shifted toward the door. Panic tried taking hold, but she struggled to stay as calm as she possibly could in this situation.

  “Guess I’ll have to get you a new shirt to take you out in public. Can’t have you whoring yourself in the open for the world to see who you really are. Can we?” He lifted her chin with his finger and directed her face toward him. “Can we?”

  She shook her head. He was taking her where other people were. This was good. Maybe she’d have a chance after all. Maybe he’d untie her and she’d be able to undo her sling from around her neck, and hit him in the head with the stone. It was the only weapon of defense she had, and now that most of her senses were back, all she needed was one chance.

  *******

  Trace roared like a wild animal as he stood in the alley. His rage boiled to the surface. “Fuck!” Why’d he let her leave

  Mike ran up to him. “What happened?”

  “He’s got her.” Trace slid his hand through his hair, realizing he mentally blocked Mike from reading his emotions.

  “Who’s got who?”

  Trace bore into his brother’s eyes and opened his mind.

  Mike shook his head. “Screw that.” He scratched his chin. “Wait a minute. You said you gave her my cell phone, right?”

  “Yes. You didn’t want it remember?”

  Mike slapped Trace’s back. “Yep, because of the freakin’ GPS tracking system. Remember?”

  He blew out a breath. “Damn.” How could he have forgotten? His younger brother had been so angry, calling him overbearing and overprotective.

  Lifting the phone, he pressed the buttons to activate the search for Mike’s cell. The GPS was installed for his brother’s safety, but he’d refused it, which was insane. Maybe he’d foreseen this moment somehow.

  The cell beeped. A location found in fifteen seconds. Trace showed Mike the address.

  “Man. I know that sleazy motel. Been there once or twice. It’s at least a two hou
r drive.”

  “Let’s not drive!”

  Mike grabbed Trace’s shoulder. Since Trace hadn’t been there before, he wouldn’t have been able to transport without a picture to form in his mind. An instant later they materialized in front of the hotel. Trace spotted Kira’s small Honda in the parking lot. Directly in front of it, a hotel door stood open to one of the rooms. He rushed inside and zeroed in on her scent. His hands fisted as he caught her fear still lingering in the air. He ran into the bathroom knowing they weren’t there, but maybe he’d find a clue. Nothing other than a cell phone broken in two pieces, it was a miracle the GPS still worked. Trace’s chest shook with rage. He could only imagine how red his eyes were.

  The one woman who made him feel alive, he’d allowed to leave. Not that he could have held her captive, but when he found her, he wasn’t going to give her up without a fight. Mike ran into the bathroom, holding a bed sheet with blood stains splattered across it. An animalistic roar erupted from Trace’s throat.

  His brother stared at him in silence for a moment. “Do you know who has her?”

  “Her brother-in-law, Jeff McCoy.”

  “What are we waiting on? Let’s hunt this human.” Mike evaporated first, and Trace followed seconds later. He knew Mike would be in his office behind his desk, punching away on the computer keyboard. If anyone could track her, it would be Mike.

  A tick started in his jaw and his hands fisted at his sides. His grunts sounded beast like. He knew he would kill the bastard; it was only a matter of finding him.

  “There are two listings.” Mike pointed at the address on the computer screen and then printed maps for both. “You want to start with the closest address first?”

  “Yes. Let’s go.” Trace knew the area, but by car it would be a half hour away. There was no way he could just appear this time though. He’d need transportation to bring her back with him, unless he was willing to tell her everything. He couldn’t yet.

  If he and Mike left now, they could possibly beat them there. If Jeff hurt her, his ass would suffer long and hard. His death would be delivered with raw rage.