Stephen fed on her blood, and she fed on this—a bite, something that brought her ecstasy and then wore off.
Any vampire could give her such a bite if they wished.
Beaten by the realization, he rose and went about his business.
That was all there could be for him—business.
After donning dark trousers and an equally black shirt that he left untucked, he bound his hair into its usual queue and strolled out of his sleeping crevice. In the common room, his brothers congregated near the Roman mural, discussing the contents of some papers spread before them.
“Look what the night dragged in,” said Roger, his dark hair curled at his nape. Back in his human days, he had been quite the rake, on the run from an unhappy father who sought payback for the deflowering of his daughter. Fegan had found Roger very agreeable to disappearing and embarking upon a new life around the same time Stephen had done so.
Another vampire, Rupert, spoke from his lounging sprawl against the rock wall. A former pirate, he had been with Fegan longer than any of them, since his fellow crew members had emptied his pockets in New Providence and then left him for dead. From there, he had managed his way to England, keeping his dark beard and swagger intact, even after meeting Fegan and being recruited.
“Sam’s been wanking on that Internet,” Rupert said, “and he’s found a thing or two.”
Little Sam, who had been no more than a boy when he had joined the gang near the turn of the 19th century in New York, stuck a computer printout into the air. “Steve, this Van Helsing League is likely to be on to us soon. A girl named KimberlyWight writes about a vampire who sounds an awful lot like you. Most of those entries aren’t that recent but—”
“Rubbish,” Roger said from his corner. “She never mentions a name, and I cannot even begin to tell you how many ‘hot’ vampires are about.”
The younger vampire didn’t lose steam. “I saw this column during my own research last night while Steve was out, and it sounds like him.”
At Kimberly’s apartment, Stephen had wiped out her current article, but it clearly had not affected the rest of her Internet site. It was time to master the newest technology if they were going to fight back in this day and age. And, here, Stephen had just ironed out his speech patterns to fit the era. Staying caught up was taxing.
“And,” Sam added, motioning toward Henry, an original gang member who was currently plugged into an iPod, “this League has a radio show, too. Henry’s listening to a podcast from a couple of nights ago about Kimberly Wight’s most recent vampire sighting.”
Roger seemed amused. Fegan had, no doubt, made a fool of Stephen and his second biting of this victim while Stephen was out of the shelter.
“This is the same woman, the ‘accident’?” Roger asked. “This Kimberly?”
Stephen crossed his arms over his chest and grinned right back, though he didn’t feel any lightness. “One and the same, though I am satisfied she will not be divulging any damaging details. Trust me on that.”
“Oh, ho!” Roger slapped his thigh. “Listen to our Casanova. He can command with a heated whisper.”
“Actually,” Stephen said, raising a brow, “I can.”
His brothers looked satisfied at that, clearly believing that Stephen had used his powers of mind control to stop Kimberly from revealing the gang. Little did they know that he had done no such thing.
He hadn’t needed to.
Certainly, he didn’t understand the reason she would be so adamant about hunting only to stay silent after finding him. It was something to monitor closely. Yet, it had occurred to him that, perhaps, her cooperation had something to do with wanting that bite she was always pursuing. Perhaps she thought that, by exposing him, he would no longer be available to please her.
If that were the case, then he was existing on borrowed time. How long would it be before she grew tired of this game?
A sense of horror engulfed him. In a short time, he had grown too intrigued by her. The night was far more interesting when she was wandering through it, far more filled with color and scent. He took more notice of that which had always been around him, and, without her there to bring out the details, he had forgotten…
“You’re all not thinking straight.” Little Sam assessed his brothers, his dark gaze dwelling on each one of them. He looked young, with his blond hair spiky and his eyes unlined by the coming of wrinkles, but he was the wisest of them all, really.
Roger looked unconcerned while Rupert gave a belly laugh, flinging away one of Sam’s papers.
The youngest male vampire got to his feet and left the rest of the group, muttering, “They’re getting too close is all I’m saying.”
Stephen watched Little Sam’s retreat, trying to read him, yet unable to do so.
As his gaze followed the other vampire out of the room, he noticed Fegan and Gisele newly arrived from their slumber crevices and doing their own watching from the other side of the cavern. There, Fegan leaned against a faded carousel horse stolen from a French prince’s private amusement area; their creator had taken great pride and joy in privately torturing the park’s guards, just for the fun of it. Gisele was sitting atop another one of the figures, a white steed, while still garbed in her pale, sheer nightdress.
Even from that distance, Fegan’s low voice was clear. “Looks like you’ve got more to worry about than just a rogue. I wonder if you need help out there.”
“I have everything in hand.” If Fegan were to send more gang members, Stephen would never hear the end of it. It would be a lacerating blow, just another swipe at the black sheep of the family.
And, though Stephen enjoyed the title, doing right by his brood really was everything.
At least, that is what he had always believed.
Gisele tussled Fegan’s dark hair in a calming gesture. The creator glanced up at her, looking less devilish with her near to balance him.
“I’m not willing to hurt my children just because of your failings, Stephen,” he said, “or to give up this life of ours. Maybe it’s lost charm for you, but not everyone here feels the same.”
Behind Stephen, footsteps signaled that at least a couple of his brother vampires had walked away. Without even turning, Stephen guessed them to be Roger and Rupert. Perhaps even Henry, as well. They had lost other brothers to hopelessness, and it was because Fegan just couldn’t understand the monotony or the ensuing philosophical questioning.
Roger, especially, understood all of it too well since one of the fallen gang members had been a good friend. And, when Fegan had threatened that brother with a gruesome termination if they should ever cross paths again, both Roger and Stephen had lost that much more respect for their creator.
Fegan interrupted. “Are you becoming distracted out there, son?”
Stephen refrained from answering, yet his body shouted, almost betraying him.
Kimberly.
Gisele clutched the carousel steed’s pole, her light brown eyes holding a hint of concern, or maybe there was fear there, as well. “Fegan, if he should fail—”
“Oh,” their creator said, eyes gleaming, “if he should fail, we’ll find ample opportunity to practice any surgical skills we’ve been dying to hone.”
Unintimidated, Stephen turned his back and walked away. “Save your sadism.” Bloody bastard. “Consider the rogue caught and think no more of it.”
Their lack of confidence in his abilities angered him, hardened him. Nathan had not believed in him, either, and Stephen would not fail to provide this time. He was so blinded by frustration that he did not even stop to think if Fegan deserved his loyalties.
With that, he entered the dark tunnel leading to the world, his mind finally where it always should have been.
On his core mission.
“MY FRIEND already checked herself out?” Kim asked the receptionist at the hospital desk.
“That’s what the records say.” The Hispanic woman shrugged in sympathy. “She made a quick recovery. An
amazing one, to tell you the truth.”
It wasn’t that Kim doubted that—with the help of the IVs and sleep, all of the draining victims had recovered. But Darlene had undergone Stephen’s healing touch, so that, no doubt, had accelerated things.
No, the problem was that her friend hadn’t bothered to call anyone to tell them she’d left the hospital, and that was strange.
Kim thanked the receptionist and opened her cell on the way to the exit. Troy answered on the second ring.
“Hey,” she said, “did you know Darlene went home already?”
“We just found out.” She could hear someone—probably Jeremy—futzing around with equipment in the background at headquarters. “She was still sleeping when I’d left in the late morning when her parents had come. I’d given them privacy but not before I’d put a crucifix around Dar’s neck for some protection.”
“So her parents probably took her home and she’s sleeping it off there.” It sounded reassuring, but a pit of worry sat heavily in her stomach. Maybe that was because she was ticked at herself for oversleeping, though. Kim had meant to be at the hospital much earlier, after taking just a catnap. But when her alarm hadn’t gone off, her plans had been shot.
The sun had been setting by the time she’d gotten out of bed, and she still felt groggy. Not a big surprise, though, since last night had been kind of strenuous.
In many ways.
Blood surged, making her heart pound and reducing her to a rubber idiot. She leaned against a wall near the glass doors for support.
“Dar’s probably too tired to be squawking on the phone right now,” Kim added, hoping Troy would agree. “Maybe if I stopped by her place just to say hi…”
She only wanted to make sure Darlene was okay, that she wouldn’t be another Lori.
On the other end of the line, Troy muttered to someone else and, before Kim knew it, Powder was talking, as hyper as usual.
“Kim? I tried to call Dar a few minutes ago, but her mom answered and said she wasn’t up to having visitors. She’s not even socializing with her own parents. She’s knocked out, so I’d nix the house call until she gives the okay.”
“But—”
“But, I know you’re worried, and we are, too. We just want to have her back here, you know, spouting off her annoying stories about what happened at preschool today and all that. Speaking of which, when’re you coming into headquarters?”
Hell, since she couldn’t visit Darlene, maybe hanging out with the boys would provide some solace. From Troy’s house, she could do some computer work, since she had no idea how to get hold of Stephen.
Wait. What if last night was the final time she’d see him? He hadn’t made any promises to come back to her.
She felt as if she’d dropped something important and hadn’t realized it was gone until she’d searched her purse for it. She backtracked, tracing over last night.
He’d left on a subdued note—not a good sign. What if he was gone for good?
“I’m on my way,” she said, voice scratched.
As Powder said goodbye, she disconnected, stuffing her phone into her big bag, next to her hunting tools—items to repel a vampire.
But what if she didn’t want to turn away a certain one? Or what if she’d done a good job of already doing it?
As she entered the deepening twilight and headed toward her car, she kept a hand on her crucifix. The rogue was also out here somewhere; no doubt, looking for another victim.
So when the air stirred, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, she yanked the crucifix out of the bag, hoping she’d be repelling the right vampire.
11
KIM TURNED AROUND, brandishing the crucifix as a dusk-darkened breeze blew the hair from her face.
But all she saw was a streetlight blinking over a parking lot filled with cars.
Swallowing, she kept hold of the silver holy item and quickened her pace toward the Chevy. Maybe Darlene’s health had improved, but that didn’t mean Kim felt any better about what had happened to her friend.
As she jumped into her car and then locked herself inside, she realized that the last thing she wanted to do was go to League headquarters. What good would she do there? No, Kim knew exactly where she should be—Mystique, contacting the manager and trying to ask the early arriving employees questions about anything they might have seen.
And maybe Stephen would—
Nope. That wasn’t why she was choosing to be out of headquarters and in a place where her vampire would have an easier time getting to her. Not at all.
Wasting no time, she started the car and donned her phone’s headset, contacting Troy. As she aimed the Chevy toward the exit, she laid her intentions out to her boss.
When he decided that he and Powder would be coming with her, Kim had no problem with that. The boys would try to contact the manager on their drive over, then meet Kim at the inside club entrance.
Soon after disconnecting, she pulled into the Marrakech parking structure and alighted from her car, hand cupped over her bag-bound crucifix as she rushed toward the elevators.
But she never made it.
Someone stepped out from behind a pillar, arms crossed over his chest, his long coat lending him an imposing air.
Her heart seized, but her fear immediately turned into a bolt of yearning.
Stephen.
Cold to hot, her skin prickled, then seemed to melt. Her bones seemed to follow, all but pooling into themselves.
She was too overcome to move. Blood pounded, sending an inarticulate message to a brain that was no longer working quite right.
“Hi,” she managed.
Stephen merely shook his head.
It took her a few moments to recover, so he took the opportunity to lecture her yet again.
“You seem to have learned nothing from last night’s attack. If you were prudent, you would be inside your headquarters, not wandering the darkness.”
“I’ve got…” She started to show him the crucifix, but realized that warding him off was the last thing she wanted to do. “Well, let’s say I’m prepared. You had to know that I wouldn’t give up this hunt.”
“True, yet I didn’t expect you to be tracking on your own.” His gaze softened ever so slightly. “What are you doing here by yourself, Kimberly?”
Chug-a-chug, went her pulse. And it wasn’t just because he was in lusting range, either. She liked that he felt protective, even if she would never admit that out loud.
“You mean, what is a sweet little helpless human like me doing at the site of my friend’s attack?” She’d switched to a mocking Southern-belle-accented voice. “Why ev-ah would I want to find the creature who hurt a loved one?”
“Kimberly…” he began.
“Hey, I wasn’t about to go back to my place and wait for you to show up or not show up. I’m not going to wait around period, Stephen. Besides, I’m meeting Troy and Powder inside and we’re going to sniff around as a group.”
From the look on his face, she could tell that she’d hit the nail on the head. He hadn’t been planning to include her in his search for the rogue tonight. She could understand his reasoning, too. After all, the other vampire had bitten her and Stephen hadn’t been able to give chase. She didn’t like knowing that her own ineptitude had kept the rogue free, but she wasn’t planning to be caught off guard again.
“The last thing you need to do is worry about me,” she said. “I mean it. I’ll do my thing and you do yours.”
Hold up. Shouldn’t she be luring him into biting her right about now? Wasn’t that how it was supposed to go?
Dumb question. Darlene’s attack had changed everything. Still, someone needed to send her body that memo, because it was sure doing a good job of pursuing its own agenda. With every passing second, heat was rushing to her belly, sharpening to a point between her legs. She wanted to get closer to Stephen, to whisper for him to relieve the welcome anguish, to make her happy again.
Dammit, all sh
e had to do was look at him—hell, think of him—and she went into a dither.
Just sidle a little closer, she told herself. Put a hand against his chest and play with one of those shirt buttons to see what he might do next.
The click of heels against concrete signaled a group’s approach and effectively put an end to Kim’s building fantasy. Three women dressed to impress passed by, spending a little too much time checking Stephen out. Kim sent them a back-off glare.
A slight smile quirked Stephen’s lips, proof that he caught the look, then disappeared.
Misguided hope jerked inside of her, starting up a growl of heat through her veins.
“So,” she said, “you gonna let me by and into the casino or what?”
Stephen held her gaze a moment too long. She thought she might’ve stopped breathing, too, because, seconds later, she sucked in a stream of air.
Why was she standing so far away from him again?
As if responding to her out-of-control pheromones, Stephen took his own step closer to her. “You know I can’t let you near Mystique on your own, Kimberly. I would not be able to live with myself should the rogue get to you.”
“I have another stake handy. And I pull a mean crucifix in a showdown.”
“This is not a time to joke.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. Remember last night, how I almost got him?”
“Your stake inflicted a minor wound that has probably healed by now. He did far more damage to you.”
At the reminder of the price they’d had to pay—letting the rogue go—Kim held her tongue. Maybe he was right—she shouldn’t be here. But she wasn’t a coward. She would rather end her life facing up to everything that dogged her than hide.
“Obviously,” she said, “I’m on the right track if you’re waiting for the rogue here, too.”
He drilled a stare at her, eyes a brilliant green that hinted at an escalating craving. “Frankly, I would rather be at that construction site to see if our rogue returns, but I caught your scent.”
The Ultimate Bite Page 14
