A cool hand grips under my chin, the vampire’s long nails digging painfully into the skin below my jaw. She tilts my head to the side and leans in to lick the blood off my chin. The rasp of her tongue against my stubble brings a fresh rush of goose bumps to my arms. What would have been an intimacy gladly shared with my wife has become a gross, manhandled version with Cora, reducing me to the status of food and nothing else.
“Come now, Cora.” Lucas says. “This is no time to play.”
A low rumble of pleasure comes from the bloodsucking bitch as she leans back from her task. “On the contrary. Haven’t you ever wondered what makes him so special to attract Dria?”
My eyes dart to Lucas, grateful to see disgust in his expression. Cora twists around to her cohort. “What? If they’re over twenty and heavily muscled you’re not interested?”
Lucas sniffs and pulls himself up straight. “To each their own, Cora. And besides, I’m not hungry.”
Cora returns her attention to me and runs her hands slowly over the defined planes of my chest. “Oh, but Lucas...” She leans closer and trails her pointed tongue down my neck. Her breath fans my deltoid as her mouth hesitates over my shoulder. “It isn’t always about feeding…” She nips my flesh, making me involuntarily shift in my seat.
She takes my discomfort for interest and bites harder, stopping shy of puncturing my skin. “I think he might enjoy some alone time with me—wouldn’t you, Rafe?” She presses her will out with her question, revealing her desires to me with that simple push of compulsion.
“Not in here,” I say casually, hoping to steer her toward taking me someplace else within the underground lair. I need to get my bearings and figure a way out. “And certainly not with an audience.” I run a hand down her back, just one, to convince her my words are spoken from the heart, not with guile.
She smiles, a self-satisfied expression, showing she got the reaction she’d hoped for. She climbs off my lap and can’t resist looking down, eager to see if she stirred a response in my body. I can’t fake an erection, so I look docilely ahead of me and let her think the compulsion is still in effect.
The next hit comes as a complete surprise, ringing my ears and flushing my face with anger. The backhanded blow was delivered with a closed fist that time, aiming for more pain. “I like to do my own sort of tenderizing to my meal ahead of time, dearie.” The grin twisting her face looks cruel, triggering a flicker of doubt across my mind. If she plans to beat me before attempting to feed there is only so much cooperation I’ll be able to fake before self-preservation kicks in.
The last memory of Dria being pummeled with the mace enters my mind, and I steel myself for the next punch. Cora’s color runs high, and I have a feeling she may be one of the old ones who feeds off pain or fear, as well. A cold quiet washes through me as I brace for her fist. I can put up with anything, for as long as it takes, to save my wife from a situation worse than death. And I have no doubt that whatever they are planning, it is much worse than dying a vampire’s true death.
Lucas approaches, pushing the sleeve of his right arm back. “Now, this is the kind of interrogation I prefer. Let me have a shot at him and then we’ll continue the questions.”
The two of them kept up their tag team beating for an hour before growing bored with my repetitive answers. There wasn’t much I could say about the existence of other manipulators or their plans when I honestly didn’t have any information to give them. The two of them so thoroughly believe there is some kind of conspiracy going on among manipulators that I fear what they have in store for Dria.
When I sagged my head forward in a not entirely feigned display of exhaustion, they left. I have no doubt they will be back.
Clearly, without some knowledge on my end to impart, I have become a very useless hostage at the moment. They won’t reveal my presence to Dria until they deem her belief of my death is no longer useful to them. Holding back and taking the two vampires’ abuse was harder than I anticipated. It would have been easier if I were tied up. Sitting here pretending to be helpless burned in my gut, but I knew if I revealed I wasn’t controlled by Cora’s vamp whammy I’d be in deep shit.
I drag myself to the bare cot in the corner and drop onto the stained fabric. The cold radiates off the wall and I debate on pushing the cot a few inches away just so I don’t have to feel the chill coming off the stones. I’ll wait a few minutes and let the cuts and swelling on my face go down first.
After the mental control exerted to not defend myself against two very powerful vampires at once, I need a moment to lie here and do nothing. A glance at my watch reveals it’s almost three in the afternoon. Drew and Paul will be rising from their restorative sleep soon. Assuming the older of the two, Drew, would have waited up for my call this morning, they should be worried at not hearing from either of us.
If Drew follows procedure he and Paul will be on their way here once the sun goes down. Worry swells within me. The two won’t have any idea of what they’re walking into and I doubt their presence will be very helpful. It’s times like this I think these fail-safe procedures aren’t so freakin fail-safe.
A wizard working with Coraline? Could he be the one who crafted the charmed brooch she wore to Alaska this past January? Diana seemed sure it was the work of an experienced witch and I haven’t heard of wizards stooping to such “parlor tricks”, as they call them.
He looked competent and sure of himself, at least until the two vampires resorted to violence. What the hell did he think getting involved with a bunch of power hungry vampires would be like? A freakin’ walk in the park? If I read his expression right, he could be a compassionate link I might be able to exploit further.
A sound in the corridor breaks into my musings. The heavy steel door swings open, and I roll over to see who is next to interrogate me. The lanky form of the wizard stands in the doorway, the brighter light from the hall casting his face in deep shadows.
With the flick of wrist, he tosses a wrapped bundle into the room. “Here. The stones make this place pretty cold.” Without another word he leaves, drawing the door shut and locking me once more inside.
I wait until his footsteps retreat down the hall before getting up to investigate. I unwrap the long sleeves of a familiar shirt, to see a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, socks, a pair of shoes, some protein bars and a bottle of water. Justin brought my clothes from our suite. He didn’t have to. He could have let me sit here in the cold.
As I get dressed, my mind races. Who is he, and why does he care? I sit on the cot and tear into the food and water, all too aware another captor could take them away if they so desired. The nutrition will not only help my body heal, it will keep me strong when I make a break for it.
Whoever that guy is, maybe I won’t kill him when I get loose. Perhaps he doesn’t deserve to die like the others. Unless, of course, that is exactly what I’m supposed to think.
Chapter Twenty
Asa
It’s mid-morning, close to ten a.m. The wolves are awake, clustered once again down in the basement around the small conference table. A few of the Weres suggested meeting upstairs, but there’s too much exposed glass for my comfort—and not just because of the sunlight. We’d all make excellent targets for a sniper if we presented them such an easy opportunity.
The hurricane shutters installed throughout the resort are in the guest rooms primarily, not in all the major living areas. The metal was intended to protect guests from sun in their rooms, not make the hotel virtually unsusceptible to siege from an enemy.
Cy has proven to be an interesting addition to the mix. His slick, charismatic personality easily smoothed the raised hackles of the nervous werewolves. Reassuring them that he and I would be helpful during this difficult time. Although, all Romeo and Elsa had to hear was he was an offspring of Vivian and they settled right down.
The shocked conversation and angry accusations surrounding Spike’s revelation to be a woman were far more distracting to the group, and probably helped
keep the focus off Cy more than anything else. The expressions flashing across Jon’s face the past couple of hours, especially when a few of the ex-cheerleader Weres started yelling, were classic. Apparently Candy had some fun with quite a few of the ladies in the pack, much to Jon, Eric, and Pat’s amusement.
Eric leans over and whispers to me while shouts of “Hell, no!” once again rip from the fiery Naomi. “I think the funniest thing is most of the ladies ‘Spike’ played around with turned Pat down flat. But damn, at least he was a real guy.”
I don’t think the situation is quite as funny as the two of them do. If anything, it should indicate how crappy he came across in his attempts—and maybe hit home the fact that his pick-up skills need some major work. I clear my throat and whisper back, “Or, you two could recognize that a woman knows how to come on to another woman better than you two nobs do.”
Candy looks my way and smiles. I freeze for a moment, unaware she was listening to our conversation. That’ll teach me not to try and say anything in a room full of dogs. I nod back and drop my eyes to the table, searching for a pen to give me something to do. I never spoke to her while in her ‘Spike’ form and haven’t much since she came out as a woman, either.
Her long reddish-brown hair spills past her shoulders in a sheet of silky, wavy fibers. She has a heart-shaped face with a dimple in her left cheek and the most interesting shade of light brown eyes I’ve ever seen. Her slim form is hidden by the big, baggie clothes she wore as a man, and I can’t get a read on if she has any curves or not. Based on the glare I just got from Jon, I’m guessing I should stop studying her outright.
It’s a fascinating ability she has to shift to any form desired. I’d love to ask her about it sometime. Jon reaches across the distance between their two hands on the table and squeezes hers reassuringly. My eyebrows creep up my forehead at his display. I wonder how this new development is going to fly when Vivian returns.
Cy leans against a wall in the corner behind Jon. Every now and then he looks like he’s about to burst out laughing. He quickly brings his coffee mug up to his face and hides behind it until he can smooth his face back out. Too bad our Aunt Cali wasn’t with him in Seattle. It would’ve been nice for her and Eric to hook up again after all these years. Then again, this dangerous situation isn’t exactly ideal for catching up.
Romeo has finally had enough of the bickering women and stands up. “Alight, if you’re all done bitching for the moment…”
Pat snickers and earns some nasty glares from the women.
The Alpha continues, “Maybe we can get down to business and form some search teams to go out and find the hunters.”
A few Weres raise their hands to indicate they’d like to volunteer. Jon frowns, “You all still have no idea which one of you could have led the hunters here.” He looks around the assembled faces, checking for signs of guilt. “No one let it slip where they were going?” He shakes his head and locks gazes with the alpha pair across the table.
“Why focus on this now, Jon?” Elsa asks. “What difference can it make on how they found us?”
Jon stands, matching Romeo and the tension in the room increases. “It might not be hugely important right now. But it may help when we catch them.” At the blank looks on the pack’s faces he continues. “Could it be a scorned lover?” He cuts his eyes to the wife of one of the Were’s who was shot. “Or a relative who went off the deep end when they discovered someone’s new affliction?”
His gaze goes back to the Alphas. “A neighboring pack who wants to seize control of your territory?” A negative reply leaps from Romeo’s lips before Jon can even get the rest of his sentence out. Jon raises a hand to cut off the older man’s further protestations. “Okay. How about another route—how many people do you all work with day in and day out who could have guessed your secret? Have you all been able to hide it as well as you think?”
Elsa looks around the room, taking in the expressions of uncertainty on the faces of their pack. “How can we possibly know the answer? And what good will come of knowing it? No matter what, we need to protect the pack first.”
“Look, I know we talked about a lot of this earlier—but it matters. I’m bringing it up again because those are real people out there,” Jon says in a quiet, controlled voice. “Before we all head out there to track them we need to keep the possibilities firmly in our mind. These might not be some cold-blooded killers, but a jealous lover, grieving family member…. Who knows?”
Nods from the assembled wolves leave me wanting to shake my head and scream. Jon can pretty it up all he wants, but the buggers loose on the resort took the first shot and have killed a woman. They aren’t here out of some misguided angst, they’re here to destroy. The sooner this group gets that through their furry heads the better off they’ll be.
I glance over at Cy in the corner, his whipcord lean body and wide chest not moving as he contemplates the agitated wolves around him. He meets my eye and nods. Perhaps he’s thinking the same thing I am. We’ll have to wait ‘til the wolves file out to converse.
Jon organizes small parties numbering three and the wolves head up into the daylight. They’re going outside as humans on the off chance the hunters might not shoot if they think the person could be entirely human. Smart ploy and for their sakes, I hope it works. Cy and I are stuck down here until dark, unable to do more than monitor the cameras in the command center.
After the boisterous group leaves the basement I reach for the carafe of bloodcoffee. “Want some more?” I ask my old master.
“Sure,” he answers while holding out his cup. He takes a seat two chairs from me and sips his drink.
The combined coffee and nutritional jolt helps my fatigue, but I’m running on fumes and will need to take a nap if I’m going to be any help to Jon later.
Cy takes a sip of his drink and stares at me. I feel his heavy gaze weighing on me as I shift in my chair, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. I’ve known him for two years and can’t help but wonder at the intensity he’s aiming toward me.
“I’m going to bed soon,” I say. “You’ll be in the room down the hall I showed you. Kotsana, the one whose wife was killed, has been moved upstairs for now, drugged and sleeping.”
Cy nods, his stare not flinching. “What can you tell me about Vivian?”
My brow furrows in confusion and I feel the beginnings of an ache behind my eyes. That’s odd. I’ve never had a headache since becoming a vampire. “What’s that now? You’re asking about Vivian?”
“Yes. What have you learned about your new master since coming here last fall?” I feel a push against my mind and recognize a force trying to work its way in. “We haven’t had the chance for a nice heart-to-heart over the phone—have we?”
Before I work out completely what I’m doing I draw my Smith and Wesson 500, loaded with silver, and aim it at Cy’s skull. “Dude—are you fucking with my head?”
Cy’s eye glitters with an edge for a moment and then the pressure inside my brain dissipates. “It was just a question, Asa.”
“Why are you asking me about Vivian?”
The older vampire settles back in his chair, acting like nothing just happened and I’m not holding a gun on him. “No reason. Relax.”
“Relax? Are you fucking kidding me? I felt you trying to get into my mind!”
“And how would you know what that feels like?” He leans forward, eagerness on his face. “Has it happened before? Has Vivian done it to you?”
Answering him might reveal more than I’d like. I know Vivian has been inside my head more than once—the last time being when I shot Joanna. I’ve worked my ass off to build mental barriers since then to ensure I’ll have some type of warning if she ever attempts it again. But her touch was much lighter, I’m sure of it. Actually, I wasn’t even aware she did it until she told me later. Hindsight made me think I recognized a light sensation, although I could have easily been wrong.
The fear that gripped me, knowing she could get in my
brain anytime she wanted and play marbles with my mind, freaked me out for days. I realized then why manipulators were deemed too powerful to live. Hell, the forest illusion she cast in this conference room was a cheap magic trick compared to the violation of physically altering a man’s mind at will.
A cold shudder races down my back at the thought that perhaps Cy has a little of the same gift as Vivian. Maybe he doesn’t know what she truly is. Could he be trying to dig up information from me because he’s just as clueless as Paul is regarding his powers?
“Dude, you ever try to get in my brain again I’ll blow your head off.” I release the trigger-retracted hammer block and ease the weapon down to my side. “Are we clear?”
Cy’s cold, black gaze watches the gun with fascination. “Crystal clear.”
No longer comfortable with the man I thought I knew, I leave, taking the bloodcoffee with me. I venture to my underground bedroom and lock the door, well aware Cy could break it down and come in when I’m sleeping.
Should I call Aunt Cali? I’d need to venture upstairs near a window to get any reception. Would she be honest with me and tell me what Cy is capable of? Does she know? Why is he asking me questions about Vivian, and does it mean I can’t trust the slick bastard?
The pull of sleep rides me hard as the sun climbs in the sky. Making a snap decision, I gather an old sleeping bag and my satellite phone. Eric and Pat will be manning the command center while I sleep and all three of the seethe’s wolves have my number—not that I’ll know immediately if they do call, but having it with me gives me a small sense of reassurance.
I walk down the corridor and through a wood door, into the unfinished portion of the basement. After a few yards, I turn down the section under the north wing of the inn and keep going ‘til I reach the hidden submarine-like door that leads into one branch of the tunnels. Each of the three wings of the hotel has an escape door, and all have a coded lock on them—all with different numbers. Codes I didn’t give Cy when we came through one earlier today from the hangar.
Big Game (The V V Inn, Book 3) Page 18
