Hunted (A Cyn & Raphael Novella)

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Hunted (A Cyn & Raphael Novella) Page 6

by D. B. Reynolds

Raphael eyed Aden for a long moment before answering. “What do you know of it?”

  Aden glanced across at Lucas and said a single name. “Magda.”

  Lucas shot him a look of disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Lucas, you know me. I don’t kid about such things.”

  “Fuck me. What’s that bitch up to?”

  “Magda blames Kathryn for her disgrace,” Lucas’s lieutenant, Nicholas, interjected urgently as he circled the couch and took the other chair. “Maybe Cyn’s right about Kathryn being the target this afternoon.”

  “I thought you and Magda were close,” Raphael commented.

  “We were,” Lucas agreed. “Unfortunately, during the conflict with Klemens, she put her ego ahead of the safety of this household, and I reassigned her.”

  “When I spoke with her very recently,” Aden said, “she had a real hard-on for you, Lucas. A woman scorned, unless I miss my mark.”

  Lucas rolled his eyes. “She was jealous of Kathryn.”

  “Well, she’s got it in her head that she can replace you as Lord of the Plains.”

  Raphael grunted softly in disagreement. “I’ve met Magda. She wouldn’t make it a day without challenge, and she wouldn’t survive that.”

  “No, she doesn’t have the juice,” Lucas agreed thoughtfully. “Doesn’t mean she’ll admit it, or that she won’t give it a try. Magda’s always had an inflated sense of self-worth. Is she acting alone?” he asked Aden.

  “There were others with her, though none with real power. I wouldn’t hesitate to meet any of them in challenge, singly or, for that matter, altogether. And that includes Magda. You could leave this to me, my lords. I could eliminate all of them easily and count it as part of the competition.”

  Raphael shook his head. “Kathryn may have been the target, but my Cyn could have been killed. Whether they intended to or not, they’ve challenged me, and I will not let it stand. In any event, I doubt they’ll wait until Chicago. They seem determined to eliminate one or both of us before then.”

  “But why?” Lucas asked. “Me, okay, I get it. Magda’s pissed and not thinking straight. She thinks if I’m dead, she’ll be able to hold my territory. But why would she risk challenging Raphael?”

  “Because she’s stupid and vindictive,” Aden growled. “You never should have fucked her. I warned you she was trouble.”

  “You think all women are trouble,” Lucas replied. “Besides, it’s been decades since I took her to bed. And you’re wrong, she’s not stupid. I kept her on precisely because she’s damn smart.”

  “Smart’s even worse. She thinks she can outwit you. She may be right,” he muttered.

  “Thanks for that, asshole.”

  “Gentlemen,” Raphael said with forced patience. “Whoever is behind these attacks will be dealt with, whether it’s Magda or someone else. But we have other business to discuss tonight.”

  “Of course, my lord,” Aden said.

  “Lucas believes you can take and hold the Midwest, Aden. What do you think?”

  “The territory is mine, my lord. The challenge is simply a formality. I know my competition, and I will prevail.”

  “Assuming you’re correct, and the territory becomes yours, Klemens ran a corrupt empire,” Raphael said. “Most, if not all, of his income came from illegal sources, which forced him to do business with untrustworthy humans of criminal repute. That made him weak, and I cannot afford to have a weak lord ruling the Midwest.”

  He watched Aden closely, waiting to see how the other vampire would react to the implied threat. To see if Aden understood that he was being offered a place in an alliance—an alliance very much controlled by Raphael—and if he would agree to be a part of it. Or if he was stupid enough to challenge Raphael, which meant he would die here tonight.

  “You don’t know me, my lord,” Aden said solemnly. “You don’t know my history. But I’ll tell you this much. I don’t consort with criminals, or with anyone whose purpose in life is to take advantage of others.”

  Raphael nodded. “I had heard as much, but I needed to hear you say it. And don’t worry about Magda. Lucas and I can handle her.”

  “Piece of cake,” Lucas chimed in. “She hasn’t broken the bond between us for some reason. Probably coasting on my protection for now. But it means I can find her.”

  “And she will lead us to the others before she dies. It will make your path smoother,” Raphael told Aden. “There will be no need for you to expend your energy on what my Cyn would call low-hanging fruit.”

  Aden laughed. “An apt description, my lord. I would be happy to assist in Magda’s demise, however. I always enjoy a good hunt, and vampires are much wilier prey than humans.”

  “The hunt is mine,” Lucas said. “Or ours,” he amended, catching Raphael’s chilling glance. “Now, I say we enjoy this very fine Irish—”

  All three vampires were suddenly on their feet and heading for the door as the sound of gunfire cut through the night.

  Chapter Seven

  “There are times when I wish I smoked,” Cyn said as she leaned against the fading warmth of the SUV’s front end.

  “I know what you mean,” Kathryn agreed, zipping her jacket. “It looks so satisfying in the movies. So cool. Smoke drifting in the cold air, dramatic pauses to suck in a new lungful of tar and nicotine.”

  “Until the stuff kills them, anyway. They don’t show that in the movies.”

  “There is that. I wonder if vamps can smoke. You know any who do?”

  Cyn thought about it. “I may have met one or two. But Raphael’s people are fairly fanatic about security, and so they tend to be health nuts, working out all the time, and forcing me to work out with them. Kidding,” she added, when Kathryn gave her a sideways look. “About the forcing, not the working out part.”

  “I haven’t met that many of Lucas’s vampires yet,” Kathryn said. “I’ve seen them in battle, though, and they’re certainly serious about that. Maybe they’re health nuts, too. I’d meet more of his people if I traveled with him. He’d like me to, but the FBI prefers that its agents show up for work most days.” She smiled to show it was her turn to be joking, but Cyn sensed there was more to it than that.

  “It’s difficult,” Cyn commented. “The vampire lords’ life style … it’s all-consuming.”

  “And Lucas is used to getting what he wants.”

  “They all are. I’ve made it my personal mission to make sure Raphael doesn’t always get his way.”

  “How’s that working out for you?”

  Cyn chuckled. “Not so well, but it’s fun trying. And it drives him nuts, so the effort is well worth it.” She smiled, thinking about Raphael’s usual reaction to what he considered her stubbornness.

  “Good times,” Kathryn agreed, and they both snickered.

  “You know, the air’s really fresh out here,” Cyn said.

  “Yeah, it is. Bracing.”

  “What do you say we sit in the truck instead?”

  “Fuck, yeah. Who needs fresh air? I’m freezing.”

  Cyn laughed and opened the driver’s side door, sliding behind the wheel. She snagged the extra keys from their hiding place and turned on the engine, then made sure the heater was set to human warmth.

  Kathryn turned as she settled into the passenger seat. “So … this Mates Club … There are other women like you and me?”

  Cyn smiled. “I prefer to think of myself as one of a kind, but if you mean mated to vampire lords, then, yes, we are not alone. And we’re not all women, either. The vampire lord up in Canada is female. Her name is Sophia, and yes, she’s still called a vampire lord. Chauvinistic bastards. Anyway, her mate is a former Navy SEAL and all around badass named Colin Murphy. We went through some really heavy shit together a few months ago, and survived. He’s a friend.”

  “And the rest?”

  “There’s Sara, whose story is hers to tell, not mine. She’s a survivor, though, and also a friend. I’m actually the one who introduced her to
Rajmund—he’s Lord of the Northeast. They did the traditional marriage thing not long ago, big wedding, the whole bit. Beautiful dress.”

  “You and Raphael aren’t married?”

  She shook her head. “We’re mated, which is the vamp way, and enough for us. I don’t know how much Lucas has told you, but it involves—surprise, surprise—an exchange of blood.”

  Kathryn shook her head. “Lucas has hinted around about the mating ritual and what it would mean for us, but I can tell he doesn’t want to push too hard, too soon. It sounds a lot like being married.”

  “It is, I guess. There are definitely advantages, though. The blood link means Raphael can find me anywhere in the world, pretty much. And the longer we’re together, the stronger the link. That’s why I had to race back to the house this afternoon. Our link is strong enough that he can follow me even in daytime, especially if something traumatic or emotional happens.” She huffed a laugh. “Like if somebody was shooting at us. I wanted to be there as soon as he woke up, so he could see I was fine. If I do get hurt, though, the blood link lets me heal a lot faster than normal.” She turned to stare out the windshield, thinking about Washington and how close she’d come to dying. “That shit I told you Colin and I went through together? I would have died if it hadn’t been for Raphael and the blood we share.”

  Cyn grew silent, remembering, and realized how very quiet it was out here. No distant hum of traffic, no planes, no drift of music, no people. There were only her and Kathryn, and two vampires—Lucas’s second bodyguard, a big vampire named Mason, and Sebastien, who’d come with Aden. The two of them seemed to have reached agreement on how to guard the shack, er, homestead, as long as the honchos were convening inside. Mason was currently standing guard at the opposite corner of the house from where Cyn and Kathryn sat in one of the trucks, while Sebastien had disappeared around back a few minutes ago.

  “Any other law enforcement in the club?” Kathryn asked, breaking the silence.

  Cyn shook her head. “The closest is Emma, but she’s a lawyer, and a political one at that. She’s mated to Duncan in D.C. She—” Cyn stopped talking to stare straight ahead.

  Kathryn followed her gaze. “What is it?”

  Cyn didn’t say anything, just opened the truck door and stepped outside, listening hard. “Mason,” she called softly, “do you hear anything?”

  He stared at her unblinking, then his head swiveled and his attention focused on the unpaved road leading to the house. His whole body seemed to lean forward intently, and then Cyn stopped watching him because her own senses were telling her that she’d been right all along. A truck was speeding toward the house, and with no lights. It was the dust cloud she’d seen first, caught in a chance flicker of moonlight at just the right angle to be visible for a few seconds. But she could hear the transmission whining with effort now, as the unknown driver pushed it past its limits, either unable or unwilling to shift gears. Another glint of moonlight, this one off metal, and then Cyn was pulling her gun and thanking the instinct that had warned her to load her so-called vampire killer rounds tonight. She didn’t know who was driving that truck, but the special ammo would work as well on a truck as a vampire.

  “Kathryn!” she called, as the truck came into view, no more than sixty yards away and closing the distance fast. She felt more than saw Kathryn pull her weapon, felt her take up a shooter’s stance. The truck roared into the cleared area in front of the house. It was a big pickup, its diesel engine rumbling like a freight train. She could make out one person in the cab, the driver, his hands gripping the steering wheel and his unwavering gaze focused straight ahead. There was no hesitation, no lessening of speed as he drew closer, no indication that he doubted what he was about to do.

  The sound of a sub-machine gun on full auto thundered in from Mason’s position, and then Cyn and Kathryn were both firing, not knowing what the driver had in mind, only that they had to stop him.

  Cyn lifted her aim from the truck’s engine compartment and trained it on the driver instead. She saw the windshield crack, saw the driver slump over the wheel as if his strings had been cut. Saw someone big in the corner of her eye, and then a pair of strong arms was grabbing her, and before she knew it, she was inside the house and the door was being slammed with only seconds to spare before an ear shattering explosion rocked the homestead on its ancient foundation.

  Chapter Eight

  “Cyn?” Raphael stroked her face softly. She wasn’t hurt. He’d know if she’d sustained any physical injury. It was most likely the concussive shock of the explosion, which had rocked Lucas’s fortified house like a child’s toy and stolen her consciousness briefly.

  Her eyes opened, green and a little confused. He watched puzzlement turn to wide-eyed alarm before her gaze cleared and she reached up to touch his cheek.

  “Is everyone okay?” she asked. “Mason was outside, and Sebastien, and … the house?” She looked around, struggling to sit up.

  “Everyone is well, lubimaya,” he said as he helped her sit up. “I told you, Lucas’s shack is far more than it seems. He often spends the daylight hours here and has no desire to be interrupted or attacked while he sleeps.”

  “It must be a fortress,” she said softly. “Impressive. So what the hell happened?”

  “Obviously, the truck was filled with explosives.”

  “Will you help me up?”

  Raphael stood easily, then held out his hand. Cyn grabbed it, and he pulled her to her feet and into his embrace, whispering against her ear. “One too many times, my Cyn. This has to end.”

  She pulled back to frown at him. “The only way to end this is to figure out who’s behind it, and take them out. You big bad bloodsuckers have any ideas on that?”

  “One or two. Lucas?” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Replacement vehicles are on the way, Sire. We should remain inside—”

  “Fuck that,” Cyn snapped. “We need to recover whatever we can of that damn truck. The driver’s dead, but if we can figure out where the vehicle came from, we can—”

  “How do you know the driver’s dead?” a deep voice said from behind her.

  Cyn spun around, one hand on her Glock before it registered that Raphael never would have permitted a threat to come up behind her. She left her hand there anyway, and Raphael knew it was because it was Aden who’d spoken and she didn’t know him. The knowledge that Raphael and Lucas considered him an erstwhile ally would count in his favor, but even that wouldn’t be enough to make her trust a vampire she didn’t know.

  “Because I killed him,” she said flatly, answering Aden’s question. “And if my bullets didn’t do it, then that explosion surely did. Raphael, I need to get out there before any more evidence is destroyed.”

  “My lord,” Aden said, addressing Raphael. “I’m not certain the females should be involved in this.” He lowered his gaze to regard Cyn coolly. “I’ve spoken to Mason, and it was the two women who drew first, possibly in something of a panic upon realizing their own danger. I also find it curious that Ms. Leighton somehow knew the truck was coming before either of the vampires on guard. Perhaps we should check it ourselves first, rather than permit her—”

  He didn’t get any further than that.

  Cyn went ballistic. She pulled her weapon, her movement faster than a human should have been capable of. But Raphael was faster yet. He grabbed her from behind, wrapping her in his arms and holding her hand in place before the gun cleared her holster.

  “Gently, my Cyn,” he whispered against her ear.

  But there was nothing gentle about the rage burning in his chest, making his blood seem to boil in his veins. He was furious at the insult to Cyn, to her honor, and his blood link with her only made it worse. His fury leaked through to Cyn, combined with her own rage, and then pulsed back at him the same way, creating a closed circuit of his anger, stoking it higher and higher until it was a living, breathing thing. Until every other vampire in the room froze, wondering if they
would survive the next few minutes.

  “Jared, clear the room,” Raphael ordered.

  “My lord,” Jared murmured, and hustled over to the front door where Nicholas was already inputting a code on the keypad, releasing the security shutters. The steel plates retracted with a heavy grinding noise that made him suspect at least one of them had been damaged in the explosion. But no one commented on it. They simply waited in silence until Jared was able to pull the door open, and then one by one the lesser vampires vacated the room.

  Jared was the last to go, meeting Raphael’s eyes with a nod, before pulling the door closed behind him, leaving only Aden, Raphael and Lucas, along with Kathryn—who’d refused to leave—and Cyn. Raphael hadn’t moved an inch while he waited. His arms still encircled Cyn, holding her tightly, preventing her from taking any action, still worried about what her anger might drive her to do. Or perhaps it was his own anger that worried him and Cyn both, because she freed a hand enough to rest it on his where it gripped her upper arm, and he felt a rush of warmth through their shared link.

  There was no warmth when he spoke to Aden, however.

  “I am hundreds of years older than you are,” he said in a voice that frosted the air around them. “I come from a time when women were chattel to be traded away for economic or social gain. But even I am not so backward that I continue to discount the integrity of women, not to mention their courage and intelligence. Lucas has told me you have issues with females. That is your history, your prerogative, your foolish prejudice. But when you let that prejudice interfere with serious affairs, with matters of life and death, that is ignorance and stupidity. My mate is worth a thousand of you. If she were a vampire, you would be calling her Lord of the South. Remember that before you think to insult her again, or the next time I’ll let her go ahead and kill you.”

  Aden’s eyes had come alive as he listened to Raphael, as his avid gaze shifted to stare at Cyn. “So, the rumors are true,” he said softly. “It was you who killed Jabril.”

 

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