The Hunter's Prey

by Diane Whiteside

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  la paloma blanca a tale of don rafael perez and ethan templeton

  sweet punishment a tale of don rafael perez and ethan templeton

  champagne cocktail a tale of ethan templeton with mention of don rafael perez ...

  the great chicken roost a tale of jean-marie st. just

  the storm cellar a tale of don rafael perez

  peppermint candy a tale of jean-marie st. just

  thirtieth birthday a tale of ethan templeton

  the morning after a tale of don rafael perez, ethan templeton, and jean-marie ...

  spotlight a tale of don rafael perez

  bourbon with a splash a tale of ethan templeton

  traffic stop a tale of ethan templeton

  a pex predator a tale of don rafael perez with mention of ethan templeton

  Author’s Note

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2006 by Diane Whiteside. This book was originally published in another form and has been revised for this edition.

  All rights reserved.

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  HEAT and the HEAT design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Ellora’s Cave e-book edition / 2001

  Heat trade paperback edition / February 2006

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Whiteside, Diane.

  The hunter’s prey / by Diane Whiteside.—Heat trade pbk. ed.

  p. cm.

  eISBN : 978-0-425-21035-2

  1. Vampires—Fiction. 2. Texas—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3623.H5848H86 2006

  913’.6—dc22 2005029144

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For the three godmothers:

  Ame, the best psychiatrist ever seen by a character;

  Julie, the best friend any writer could hope to find; and

  Brynda, who wondered one day why there weren’t any vampires in Texas.

  This one’s for you.

  la paloma blanca a tale of don rafael perez and ethan templeton

  Dearest Pearl,

  Thank you so much for your letter! It seems like an eternity since we vowed eternal friendship in Concord, outside Miss Amity’s Young Ladies’ Seminary. It has taken every ounce of strength that my sister, Cordelia, and I can muster just to survive this harsh Texas summer. We hope to return soon to Boston, if only we can obtain Father’s permission. But he plans to remain here in Austin, searching for ways to help this rebel state return to the Union. I suspect he also hopes for ways to line his wallet, but he publicly speaks only of the good to be done here.

  You ask if we have met any interesting young men. Most of the young men we meet are Army officers. Alas, Father will not permit us to do more than speak to men of the sword. He extended this ban to followers of Mr. Colt so very few men in this martially inclined dust hole are acceptable. Cordelia has been known to say that if we did not meet anyone soon, she would invent someone! However, we encountered two men last Saturday night who were very intriguing. I will tell you everything that I can remember of them.

  Father had invited some acquaintances for dinner, which Cordelia and I attended as his hostesses. We were excused when the drinks were passed, a departure we both welcomed. The gentlemen here drink whisky and smoke the most appalling cigars all night long, whether or not there are ladies present! It is very distressing to both of us. In any event, Cordelia went directly upstairs to nurse her headache while I went to say a few words of thanks to the cook. (She had managed to provide a meal without beans, a most remarkable feat.)

  When I went upstairs, I could hear voices from within our bedroom. It seemed that Cordelia was moaning, a most intense sound if somewhat low-pitched. I hesitated then approached softly, reluctant to disturb her if her headache had increased. Her moans did not sound pained so I went up to the door, holding my skirts so as to make the least sound. I put my ear to the door and heard words out of Cordelia’s mouth. To my surprise, she was begging someone for more!

  I could not imagine to whom Cordelia was speaking. This is a most uncouth town and she complains frequently of the lack of presentable callers. I crouched down and peered through the keyhole.

  What should my stunned eyes behold but my sister, sitting on a man’s lap! He was a tall blond man in a threadbare rebel uniform, seated on the edge of the bed, holding her arched across his arm. His hair spilled across her generous bosom so I could not quite make out all the details. He seemed to be kissing her throat and farther down. Her language was rather incoherent, but I am certain that she wanted more of whatever he was doing.

  I observed them for some time. He had been able to unbutton the back of Cordelia’s dress so that her underthings were very evident. His mouth was most busy, although I am not certain of all his actions since she spent much time clutching at his head. I believe his name was Ethan, since she frequently repeated that word. I blush to say that my hand reached under my skirts, echoing Ethan’s movements.

  Suddenly, I was picked up in a man’s arms! I squeaked with surprise as I beheld a giant holding me as if I were as light as a feather. (Which you know, Pearl, I am not!) He stood some inches over six feet, black hair and black eyes, olive skin, heavily muscled, a Roman nose, and a very nasty scar above one eye. He had quite the look of a conquistador from the days of Cortez.

  “La paloma blanca,” he murmured. “Little white dove, perched on the gallery to watch the excitement.” He smiled at me, then kissed me. It was a very dream of a kiss, one to flutter any lady’s pulse.

  “Won’t you invite me in, mi paloma blanca?” he asked. I could only nod yes as I stared at his mouth, hoping for more of his attentions. He lowered me slightly so that I could open the door, and in we went.

  Ethan lifted his head as we came in but kept his hand busy on Cordelia. He did not seem surprised but simply lifted an eyebrow. Cordelia twiste
d her head around and glared at me. (Pearl, you at least must believe me. I was not spying on her so that I could inform Father! Cordelia has always accused me of such reprehensible behavior when, in truth, she is the one who ran to our patriarch with tales of my misdeeds. But she has not done that since this night’s adventures so I have some hope for the future.) In any event, I mouthed an apology for interrupting her frolic and Cordelia soon went back to fondling Ethan’s head.

  “Continue as you were, Ethan,” my gentleman said. “This young lady is desirous of seeing how a gentleman pleasures a woman. So make sure that you provide ample entertainment.” Was I mistaken or was there the slightest emphasis on the word gentleman?

  “As you wish, Don Rafael, but . . .” Here, Ethan hesitated as if seeking words. My gentleman fixed him with a stare that would have made even Andrew John-son behave reasonably.

  “Tonight is the first opportunity to see how well you have learned your lessons, Ethan. You know how to walk into a room and select your best prey from the adults present. You understand how to excite her passion, preferably by seduction but, if necessary, by blanketing her mind with lust. You have thus learned how to walk out of a room with any adult in it, your quarry full of carnal anticipation and more than willing to feed you. Now you must prove that you can dine discreetly, leaving your prey alive. You will not risk my family by killing, thereby making humans hunt us.”

  Ethan nodded, his eyes fixed on my gentleman, who continued the amazing lecture.

  “Remember that feeding is better on emotion than on blood alone. You will answer to me if you forget that and harm either lady.”

  Ethan flinched as if he had been struck, yet Don Rafael’s voice had been low and even. I remembered how the officers had spoken to their men at the close of the late conflict. The slightest word had been attended as well as any minister’s thundering sermon. Don Rafael’s words held a similar grip on Ethan.

  Don Rafael studied him for a moment before speaking again. “Bien. Now arrange yourself and the woman to provide the best display. My little white dove has known a man’s passion before but now she wishes to watch. Is that not true, little one?”

  I agreed, blushing hotly. How had he known of an occurrence that I had only told you, Pearl? Had he read my thoughts when I wished that drunken oaf had paid half as much attention to my rapture as Ethan was paying to Cordelia’s?

  Ethan bowed his head in acknowledgment then shifted Cordelia so she came astride him with her back against his breast, draped across his lap and her head arched back against his shoulder. He ran his hands over her and her dress slid away at his touch. He lifted her hips and soon stripped the obscuring cloth from her. My startled gaze beheld my sister’s body attired only in a chemise, stockings, and her kid boots, outlined against a fully clothed man. Cordelia smiled at me in the exact manner she uses every Christmas when she gets to open her presents first as the eldest child. Ethan began to touch her in the most intimate fashion imaginable, paying considerable attention to her bosom. Cordelia’s arms went up over her head, her eyes closed with a smirk, and she stretched, offering herself to him.

  Don Rafael carried me over to the armchair and sat down. He settled me on his lap in a similar fashion, facing my sister and her lover. This left his hands free to unbutton my garments. I could not pay much attention to this state of undress as he simultaneously fondled me in a fashion comparable to that wrought upon Cordelia. His attentions were thorough but perhaps a bit absent-minded. He seemed more intent on how well Ethan displayed his education than on me, although I had no cause for complaint.

  Ethan’s hands began to center between Cordelia’s legs. She twisted and thrashed against him in a most uninhibited manner. I could see every detail of her responses. His hands would move quickly then slowly, sometimes even more cautiously until they were still. Then an abrupt movement would bring such a gasp from her! He drove her up to the very brink of rapture and then kept her there for what seemed an eternity. (I confess that I writhed upon Don Rafael’s lap as his hands took liberties with me during this time. My hands gripped his, seeking to guide him between my legs to where I knew release could be obtained. But he retained command of my carnal appetites and did not allow me to become so desperate as to stop watching my sister’s burning desires.) I have never seen her lose all discipline as she did under Ethan’s touch. She begged him for release, crying that he was cruel, cruel for torturing her in this way. (You would wish to be tortured in such a fashion too, Pearl!)

  Ethan licked and sucked at Cordelia’s neck, showing some very sharp teeth. She went very still once and Don Rafael growled. Ethan released Cordelia’s throat immediately and then licked her. I could see a crimson drop sliding over her white breast as she sobbed again, begging him for still more.

  Pearl, I do not know how Ethan could move his hand so rapidly between Cordelia’s legs! Suddenly her entire body convulsed and she cried out. She arched against him, anchored only by his hand between her legs and his mouth on her neck. I could see him suckling at her, like a calf on a teat, as she screamed her pleasure. His body shuddered, contractions running through it in concert with the pull of his mouth on her throat.

  “Ethan.” Don Rafael’s voice was scarcely more than a whisper but it cut like a knife. Ethan’s head jerked as if slapped but he stopped pulling at Cordelia.

  Finally she lay against him, a few slow ripples passing through her body. His eyes shut and he licked her neck slowly.

  I burned to follow Cordelia over the precipice of delight. But Don Rafael had his legs firmly between mine and held my hands tightly, withholding any chance of completion from me. I was forced to sit there and study Cordelia’s sated sleep. I cursed and fought him but his strength was too great. I demanded the same ecstasy that my sister had enjoyed! Pearl, he laughed at how little effect my struggles had! Then he kissed my hair, still chuckling, and quickly sought my intimate parts. I jerked in surprise at his acquiescence to my pleas but quickly fell into delight.

  Truly, Pearl, I do not know what I was more distressed by at that moment: whether his first denial of my satisfaction or his casual and efficient provision of that pleasure!

  I sat astride his legs, panting, and tried to recollect myself. I was intensely aware of the contrast between my moistly glowing body and the rough strength of the body supporting me. He did not seem unaffected by the passion that Ethan and Cordelia had displayed. In fact, I suspected that his masculine tool was pressed hard against me in hope of similar pastimes. But his discipline over himself was as great as the control he had exerted over me. He made no further movement but simply held me still as we watched Ethan and Cordelia’s exhaustion.

  Ethan opened his green-gold eyes finally and studied me. His tongue slid out and cleaned the last drops of blood from his lips.

  “May I watch you, Don Rafael?” he asked humbly.

  Don Rafael chuckled and stroked the inside of my legs.

  “Bien, Ethan, muy bien. Yes, it is time for this paloma blanca to coo. . . .”

  Dearest Pearl, the most wonderful thing has happened! Reverend Smith has just stopped by. He is returning to Boston and will carry this letter directly to you. I know you will be intrigued by this tale, even half-written, so I must send this with him. I will send you the remainder as soon as I can write it.

  Pray convey my love to your family. I miss you desperately and will write more to you soon.

  But for now, I remain,

  Ever your truest friend,

  A—

  Dearest Pearl,

  I have found the ending of my previous letter! I will add but a few words to it so that I can send it off to you immediately.

  I believe that the summer heat here is more oppressive than in Beelzebub’s domain. Cordelia and I venture out only under protection of the evening’s cool, except for Sabbath services, of course! While we have not met any new young men since my last letter (for there are few here worth meeting), at least we encounter them during times of frivolity and friendly con
gress at the dinners and dances that Father’s friends offer. Then we retire to our room and read or dream of gallant men to bring excitement into our lives.

  I believe that my last letter ended with me seated on Don Rafael’s lap, looking at Ethan. Cordelia slumbered on the bed, so lost to dreams that she would not wake until the sun had almost finished its next day’s course.

  I am afraid to confess that I broke the silence with a question so unbelievable that even now, I blush to confess it.

  “Are you vampires?” I asked, feeling a calm that owed much to my irritation at the gentleman holding me. I felt a slight ripple of surprise go through the big body holding me. Don Rafael tilted his head to look at me.

  “We are, querida. But I give you my word: You have nothing to fear from us. We offer a simple exchange: rapture in return for a taste of blood. Our friends often find their way eased in matters outside the boudoir, as well. Your sister will awaken tomorrow, suffering only from the aftermath of pleasure and a slight lassitude. Her body will heal itself completely within a few weeks. She will remember nothing of this night.”

  Cordelia emitted a slight snore as he spoke, her usual sign of deep slumber. (As you well know, Pearl, her other sign is stealing all the covers but that is not likely to happen during a Texas summer!)

  Don Rafael continued speaking in the most melodious tones for such a deep voice. “And you, mi paloma blanca, now have to concern yourself only with your own pleasure. You will sing like a dove tonight, I promise you, low and sweet, your voice quivering with ecstasy.”

  Somehow I believed him, Pearl! It truly was amazing that I accepted the assurances of this man, a vampire by his own admission! And yet I did trust him, at least for this much.

  I must have relaxed in his hold because he slowly lowered his hand, bearing mine with it. My hands finished at my waist, grasped firmly by his strong fingers. I slanted my head back to look up at him for the first time.