Vampire Elite

by Irina Argo

  Her hands reached for Oberon’s shaft and she squeezed it, hard, sliding her hands back and forth. Oberon’s legs buckled and his head sagged, his hands clutching at his chains to steady himself.

  “You made me wait. Now suffer.” She laughed, whipping him into a frenzy, and then abruptly released her hand.

  “Sim ... have mercy on me,” Oberon moaned. “Please, don’t stop.”

  She laughed again and stabbed his hip with her fangs, sucking in a mouthful of hot, euphoric blood, reveling in having him vulnerable to her every whim. Then, leaving the blood to flow, she moved back to his cock, circling her tongue across the tender skin, attuned to every nuance of Oberon’s reaction, every shift of his mood. It was easy for her; he was her blood-bond.

  When she sensed he was on the verge of climax, hoarsely calling out her name, she shifted her mouth from his cock to the vein in his groin and jabbed her fangs into it. Spasms of rapture rippled through Oberon’s body and blood shot into Simone’s mouth like molten lava. Her orgasm hit her like a truck, knocking the wind out of her. She felt her head falling away from Oberon’s flesh, her body sinking to the floor ...

  Opening her eyes, she found herself prostrate in the pool of blood that had formed under Oberon, who was still hanging from his chains above her, fighting to stay conscious. She turned on her side and pushed herself up to lick her way up his body, sealing his wounds with her tongue. When she released him from his chains, Oberon sank to the floor, propped himself against the wall, and sat with his eyes closed, his head lolling on his shoulder.

  Simone fondled him, snuggling herself under his arm. These moments with him were usually utterly peaceful—but she wasn’t feeling it today. Something was out of whack with her blood-bond; he was obviously distracted.

  She lifted her head to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

  Without any preamble, Oberon said, “The Order has issued a warrant for your execution.”

  “What?”

  “They want to kill you, Sim. They want to turn the Key, and they don’t think you’ll ever support their cause because you are a vampire.”

  So that was it. Simone had known that it was only a matter of time; she was the Keeper who stood in the way of the Order’s goals. She’d been repressing the idea, pushing it out of her awareness, but it was time to face facts. Now that the decision had been made, they’d stop at nothing to destroy her.

  “So, what do we do now? I can’t go back to the research station; that would just make me a sitting duck, right?”

  “Right. Especially if the guy assigned to be your executioner is me.”

  Simone searched Oberon’s face, trying to read him. The blood-bond gave him absolute power over her life or death. If he decided she must die, she would die. She was completely defenseless against the blood-bond.

  “Are you going to kill me?” Her hands were fisted so tightly that she was piercing her skin with her fingernails.

  “Of course not.” He pulled her back to him and pressed her head under his chin. “You’ll be okay. You’re not going to die at the hands of the Order.”

  Simone felt his warmth, his appreciation of her. She believed him even though he was holding her prisoner. She refused to consider the possibility that she could be in love with him. No, actually, she could consider it: she wasn’t in love with him. He’d used her as a lab rat for a year; she’d never forgive that. But she did have deep feelings for him. The problem was that they were equal parts affection and anger.

  “Then let me go. Right now. I’ll buy a ticket and fly to Nice.”

  “You’ll be dead before you get on the plane. The Order knows I’m going to free you, so they sent Avengers to finish what I can’t.”

  “Avengers?”

  “Assassins. Real pros. They’ll have no trouble killing you, believe me.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “I have a plan, but you need to follow it strictly, to the letter. No deviation whatsoever. Understood?”

  Simone nodded.

  Oberon leaned over and pulled his cell phone from the pocket of what was left of his pants. “Call someone from your pride, whoever you’re most confident can protect you. We’ll meet that person—alone—at the Temple of Hathor in Dendera, in Egypt, tonight at midnight.”

  Once she reunited with her pride, he explained, she was to go immediately to Arianna and surrender her powers as Keeper. As soon as the Queen accepted her resignation, so to speak, Simone would be free. Once she was no longer a Keeper, the Order would lose interest in her.

  “What if I don’t want to surrender my powers?”

  “You have no choice, Sim. The Order will hunt you down; they’re not going to give up until they get what they want. Please do what I ask of you.”

  Simone nodded in agreement, but told herself no way. She wasn’t an idiot; giving away her powers as a Keeper meant returning those powers to the Amiti. “Will I see you again?”

  Oberon didn’t answer, and Simone realized that he was telling her goodbye. Her chest constricting, she lifted her face and caught his lips, devouring them. Then she broke the contact and demanded, “Promise me that I’ll see you again.”

  “Make the call, Sim.”

  “I want an answer,” she insisted. “Tell me. Will you come to me if I need you?”

  “I will,” he finally said. “Now call.”

  She reached out through the blood-bond, trying to determine if he was telling the truth, but got nothing. What could she do but accept the words he spoke?

  “What about Odji? Will you let him go too?”

  “No, only you. Odji is our only leverage now that you’re leaving.”

  “But—”

  “Simone, this is not negotiable. You’ll be the only one leaving.”

  Of course he wouldn’t let Odji go. Why should he? She’d figure out a way to free Odji later; Goddess knew she wasn’t helping him from behind her locked door at the research station.

  Okay, who should she call? Who could protect her from the Avengers?

  The answer was obvious. She dialed Anock.

  Chapter 62

  Anock reached out to silence the ringing phone without taking his eyes off the computer screen, totally absorbed in his task: searching through the Guardian’s database, studying what little information he’d managed to find on Cara.

  It had been a month since he had brought her to his apartment, a truly blissful month for him. All his problems seemed to have been resolved: he had an incredible lover in his bed and his own personal blood source. But the most remarkable wonder of all was that he felt loved every time he took Cara’s blood. For the first time in his life he was thriving on blood that was voluntarily given by someone who cared about him.

  Anock was aware that the longer he continued to take Cara’s blood, the harder he had to fight against the pull of the blood-bond. He knew that the day would come when he no longer would be able to deny its power, and he’d give in. He needed to find out everything he could about the woman he was going to surrender his life to.

  He pulled up Cara’s file and reviewed the information in it again. Hunters had captured her in the small town in Arizona where Cara was living with her foster family. There was no information about her biological parents, just a mention that her mother was a young, unmarried female who had abandoned Cara in a hospital after her birth. Anock guessed that her mother had also been captured by the bloodstock hunters. And then, as she’d said, Cara had been kidnapped when she was twenty-two. She’d been sold to the Royal pride almost immediately thereafter. Theores had purchased her because she was intrigued by the taste of Cara’s blood.

  Knowing that Cara had only belonged to his pride, had never been shared with others, comforted Anock. It meant that no one else had fed on her blood. Actually, it was a good deal more than comfort; Anock couldn’t bear the thought of someone else feeding on his female. It was hard enough knowing that members of his own pride had done so.


  He checked again for possible connections to the Order. Nothing. She was clean, another comfort. Even though she’d been here, with him, ever since he’d first checked her file, a small part of him always worried that new intelligence would emerge.

  The phone rang again, and this time he checked the caller ID on his phone, seeing a number he didn’t recognize. Well, the outside world was calling; he couldn’t keep ignoring it. He answered—and almost dropped it when he heard Simone’s voice.

  Five minutes later, Anock sat transfixed, the phone still in his hand. As if it was still going through the Guardians’ database, his mind was in search mode, scrolling through the mental records he’d stashed in years as a Guardian, finding everything he’d learned about kidnappings, hostage and prisoner exchanges—all the myriad ways in which captives ended up back home.

  Experience told him that the risk of walking into a trap were high. In their very brief exchange, he hadn’t been able to read Simone’s voice, but that didn’t matter; she might be spoiled, but her loyalty was indisputable. If there was a trap, it wouldn’t originate with her. Then who?

  Oberon. He’d bet his life on it.

  So tonight, at midnight, Anock would have the honor of personally meeting the most powerful of all the Keepers and the leader of the Order. It was the chance of a lifetime, one Anock could not afford to lose. He closed his laptop and hurried to find Tor.

  Half an hour later they’d come up with a plan and Anock called Crian. “ I have some business I need your help with, my friend. What would you say if I told you that we have a very good chance of capturing Oberon?”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Can you shield Oberon’s powers?”

  “No, not alone. He’s too powerful. But if I recruit my mother and a few of her relatives on the sorcerer side of the family, we should be able to. What’s the plan?” Then after discussing the details he added, “There is one more thing I want in return, Anock, as a price for my services. I need Oberon alive.”

  “What for?”

  “He knows something that’s very important to me.”

  “He won’t tell you anything.”

  “I know how to make him talk.”

  “You must have some pretty strong leverage against him. I’m sure that no matter what kind of torture you come up with, he won’t cooperate.”

  “Oh yes, he will. I won’t even have to torture him. What I have is far more effective. Do you give me your word that you won’t kill him before I talk to him?”

  Of course Anock did. As a matter of fact, he'd be keeping Oberon alive for a while; he had far better use for the bastard.

  What Anock learned in the helicopter only confirmed that conviction. Ken and Shak had everything under control up front, so Anock took his seat across from Etain and asked her for a reading.

  Etain’s Tarot cards confirmed that it would indeed be Oberon with Simone at the Temple of Hathor at midnight.

  “But there is more information that I need to tap into,” she said as she wrapped the cards lovingly in their velvet cloth and returned the deck to its intricately carved olive box. “I’m feeling that it’s critical, something you need to know.”

  “Please, Mother, what is it?” Crian’s voice was tender. Something about Crian being both Alpha of the Hunter pride and doting son just didn’t compute in Anock’s brain. But it was obvious: the guy totally adored his mother. “She has access to the Akashic Records, a universal database,” Crian explained pompously.

  “I know what it is.” Anock stifled the urge to roll his eyes at Crian, then turned to Etain, eager to hear what she had to say. “Please Etain, do a reading. Your knowledge is invaluable to us.”

  Etain leaned back and closed her eyes, her facial muscles visibly relaxing, and slipped into a trance. She began to speak in a slow monotone. “The Keepers are very close to succeeding with their ultimate plan. The Key will be turned unless drastic action is taken.”

  It was the second time Etain had warned them, but this time it was more urgent, more final. Everyone was quiet, their eyes riveted on Etain.

  “It can’t be inevitable. Is there a way to prevent it?”

  “All of the Keepers must be destroyed. As long as one Keeper lives, the powers of the Keepers will always be redistributed. If you want to save your race, the Keepers must be eliminated.” She paused, her eyelids fluttering.

  “Simone is a Keeper, but we can’t kill her. She’s one of us. Is there a way to get rid of the Keeper without killing Simone?”

  Etain was silent for a moment, her brows furrowing, and then her eyelashes flew open and her clear emerald eyes focused sadly on Anock’s. “That’s all of it. The information we seek is hidden. I can’t go any further. I must be respectful of the Field. If I’m too intrusive, I can be forever denied access to the Records.”

  “It’s very helpful nonetheless. Thank you, Etain.” And at least it’s something, thought Anock. If this operation went as planned, they could use Oberon to locate the remaining Keepers; meanwhile he’d find a way to save Simone. Anock did not believe in dead ends. There was always a way out; he just had to look harder.

  He was still thinking about how things would go down when Ken announced that they were about to land and Anock turned his attention to the terrain below him. The location couldn’t have been more appropriate. The Temple of Hathor occupied a secluded area about two miles from the city of Dendera. At this hour—around eleven, an hour before the scheduled meeting time—the area was completely deserted. The sorcerers wouldn’t even have to erect an invisibility shield around the helicopter.

  The helicopter touched down and Shakir and Anock got out to check out the area before gesturing for the five sorcerers to join them.

  “Let’s get to work, my friends” Etain began, clasping her hands. The five sorcerers came together in a huddle, then took two steps backward, forming a small circle. For a moment, they stood completely still as if reading the atmosphere, then all of them simultaneously relaxed.

  “This will work just fine,” Etain said. The other sorcerers nodded and then turned to fan out around the perimeter of the temple.

  Anock caught up with Crian. “What are you doing?”

  “We’ll be forming a pentagram around the temple, creating an energy field that will incapacitate Oberon’s powers,” explained Crian. “We’ll use Celtic magic, Sekhmet forgive us. It should be stronger because Celtic magic isn’t recognized here, and since it’s not local, no defenses have been established against it. My mother’s very smart, isn’t she?” Crian’s eyes glowed in the darkness like a cat’s. “Oberon will be immobilized the instant his feet touch the ground inside the field. Then you can do whatever you want with him—as long as you leave him alive, of course. Good luck, my friend.”

  Once the sorcerers had dissolved into the black, moonless night, Anock took several tentative steps toward the temple. He’d known, of course, that this millennia-old monument was dedicated to the Amiti’s Goddess, Hathor, but actually being here was more intimidating than he’d anticipated. He reached the stone wall and stroked it with his fingertips. What he was going to do was wrong. There would be retribution. Would the Goddess kill him right now?

  He raised his head, feeling Hathor’s eyes on him. Each of the columns towering above him was carved with an image of Hathor’s face. No, She didn’t look alive; it was only stone. And yet he could feel Her presence settling onto his skin as if it was carried on the fine particles of the mist surrounding the temple.

  “Please, Great Goddess, forgive me. Forgive me that I am a vampire and that I must protect my race from yours,” Anock whispered. “I don’t want to hurt your children, but we are in a deadlock. I don’t see any other solution. But if there is one, please show it to me now.”

  He stood motionless, staring at the columns, hoping she would answer him, but the silence around him was absolute. Hathor was ignoring him—or maybe the Goddess wanted Anock to find the answer on his own?<
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  “Anock.”

  The voice crashed through the silence so unexpectedly that his mind first registered it as Hathor’s. Anock jerked around, his heart leaping in his chest.

  “Simone.” The illusion was shattered instantly when he saw Simone standing between the columns, veiled in a dark haze.

  “Are you alone?”

  Anock nodded, and the haze dissipated somewhat, revealing an exquisitely handsome male with long blond hair standing behind her, his hands gently holding her upper arms. As if she’s a lover, not a captive.

  “Oberon,” Anock exhaled forcibly, facing his nemesis for the first time.

  “Go on, Simone,” Oberon urged, ignoring Anock.

  Why isn’t he losing consciousness? He should at least be paralyzed by now. Anock’s mind worked feverishly.

  Wait, he needs to enter the sorcerers’ energy field.

  “Go.” Oberon repeated, releasing Simone’s arms. Simone stepped away and walked toward Anock, holding Oberon’s gaze for a long time, an emotion in her eyes that looked to Anock like longing, or maybe even love. For a moment, Anock thought that she might change her mind, but she finally turned to face him and stood by his side.

  “Thank you, Oberon.” Anock extended his hand, offering it to Oberon, and took a step toward him. Meet me halfway. Step forward.

  Oberon ignored the gesture. The mist grew denser around him.

  Anock had only a split second to react. With blinding speed he leaped at Oberon. Oberon deflected Anock’s charge with an Aikido maneuver, and Anock missed him entirely. But Anock had accomplished his goal: Oberon stepped onto the stone floor and collapsed.

  “Oberon!” Simone cried, falling to her knees beside him. She lifted his head, his blood smearing her fingers. “Oberon!”

  “Don’t worry. He’s not dead, just unconscious.”

  “You bastard!” Simone shrieked, lashing out at Anock with her fists.

  “Easy, easy, my princess. You need to calm down.” Anock pointed at her and released an energy blast. He caught her as she fell, then called Ken and Shakir to help load Simone and Oberon into the helicopter.