Hunger

by Jacquelyn Frank

  “How long since you ate last?” he asked her.

  “Two days,” she said through a mouthful of potatoes. Then suddenly she stopped chewing. “What if it’s poisoned?” she asked.

  “It’s not,” he said without thinking. He could tell it wasn’t. Vampire sensibilities were very sensitive to all kinds of poisons anywhere. The food wasn’t organic, but it wasn’t poisoned.

  “How do you know that?” she asked after a swallow.

  Damn it, that had been stupid. “Because it doesn’t make sense,” he said. “Why go through all this trouble just to poison us?”

  “They are poisoning me,” she said softly, looking down at her plate.

  “True,” he agreed bluntly. “But they aren’t trying to kill you; otherwise they would have overdosed you.”

  “I don’t understand. Why give me heroin or whatever drug they used?”

  Again he answered with confidence and without thinking. “It was heroin. And I don’t know what they are thinking. I guess we’ll find out eventually.”

  Half of that was a lie. He did suspect why they were poisoning her. It was because of him. They were trying to starve him out or turn him or something. She was just a hapless victim, a random stranger taken off the street.

  Or so it appeared. He couldn’t be sure she was random. Why not use an actual heroin addict? That would have been easier. Easier than ruining a woman’s life and destroying her pure body. There had to be more to it than just randomness.

  “How are you so sure it’s heroin?” she asked him. “It could have been any number of things. You are so certain, as if you know something about this whole situation…”

  She stood up suddenly, crossed her arms protectively over her chest, and backed away from him. “How do I know you’re not one of them? How do I know this isn’t a trick? You say things with such confidence. Only someone on their side would know things like that.”

  “Felice, sit back down and finish eating,” he said quietly, trying not to sound menacing as he controlled his temper. “I am not one of them. As I said before, I have seen heroin before on people.”

  “There are other drugs that mimic heroin,” she said, still backing away from him.

  “True. I could be wrong.” But he wasn’t. “Listen, I’m a confident ass. I figure if I say something with confidence then I’ve figured out the mystery—or part of the mystery—of the world around me in general. I don’t like to be out of control and that’s what this whole situation has done to me—taken away my control of my world. When I give up control I want it to be of my choosing. Not theirs.” He beckoned to her and she shook her head fiercely. His temper spiked.

  “Look, I’m not gonna sit here and try to convince you I’m on your side. I’m too fucking tired. If you want someone to hold your hand and coddle you and tell you everything is going to be all right, then you’ve got the wrong man. I’m an asshole and I’m pretty proud of it. Even if I was on the other side you still have to eat if you want to fight the effects of the heroin or whatever drug it was,” he said with a beleaguered sigh when her eyes narrowed.

  He then turned his attention back to his meal and continued to eat. He did so in silence, letting the food coax her closer rather than trying to do it himself. It worked. She slowly returned to the table. She cut up all of her meat first thing so she could then cross an arm over her chest and eat one-handed. He noticed she ate with her right hand. It was one of those things he always did. Note which hand someone used. Usually so he knew how to fight them. But he wasn’t looking to fight with her. She was no threat as far as he could tell.

  It did occur to him that she could be a trap. A ploy. That she was in on the whole thing and they were using her as a way of manipulating him. Maybe she volunteered for this. Anything was possible.

  Yet she seemed genuine enough. He was pretty good at picking out a liar and she just didn’t fit the bill. She’d have to be a damn good actress to fool him. Besides, what would they hope to achieve?

  What was their endgame anyway? He couldn’t figure it out. Then it occurred to him that there was a slim possibility this wasn’t about him at all. Maybe it was about her?

  “Tell me why you think you’ve been chosen for this…whatever this is,” he said to her between bites. He came off calm and matter-of-fact. Two things he didn’t really feel. What he was really feeling was irritated and frustrated. This whole situation sucked and he wasn’t the type to use his brainpower for anything other than the hunt. Any other time he just switched off and enjoyed himself. These people were interrupting his hedonistic lifestyle and it was pissing him off.

  Also, he was on the hunt for a guy named Roth, who had up until very recently been among the vampire queen’s personal circle of advisors. A few weeks ago Roth had descended into sycophanthropy. Roth, it appeared from Halo’s reconnaissance, had fully shifted to the other side. He had betrayed them all for the promise of a quick fix and who knew what else. Now, instead of working for Queen Simone, he was working with Draz, the sycophant mastermind who managed almost all of the sycophants on the entire Eastern Seaboard.

  Why anyone would give up a cushy job and healthy lifestyle at the side of a queen in order to work for a lowlife with a tendency to kill those around him was beyond his understanding. Sure, Halo was a hedonist, and sure, that lifestyle flirted with the other side, but he would never willingly cross that line. How anyone could stand feeling soiled and tainted and sick with addiction was something he would never understand.

  If he wasn’t careful, however, he was going to get a front-row seat to How to Cross into Addiction.

  “My ex. He’s been stalking me for the better part of a year. He can’t seem to get it through his head that it’s over between us. He’s convinced all I need is a little coaxing and his brand of ‘love’ and we’ll be all right again.” She air-quoted “love.” “He’s sick. Demented. The cops have a file on him a mile long. He’s even been arrested twice, and I have an order of protection out on him. They warned me that once he realized he was never going to get what he wanted he might turn on me. Might do something drastic. They told me I should be very careful. Apparently I wasn’t careful enough.”

  “Does he have the wherewithal to do all of this? I mean, this is pretty complex, and it takes money to set something up like this.”

  “Oh, he has money. That’s how he keeps getting off when they arrest him. High-priced lawyers can get you out of anything, it seems. I wish I’d never met him. I can’t believe I used to love him. What an idiot I was.” She looked incredibly sad as she poked at her steak. She dropped her fork. “I’m not hungry anymore,” she said.

  “It doesn’t really make sense that a man who is obsessed with you would leave you naked with another man. This is more likely something to do with me than with you,” he told her, hoping to comfort her in some way.

  “Why you? What’s so special about you?”

  “I’m…I’m a bounty hunter. I’ve made a lot of enemies in my line of work. There are a lot of people out there that’d be real happy to hold me prisoner and try to torture me a little. Or a lot. Depends on who it is.”

  “You’d have to be a real pain in the ass to inspire something like this,” she said with a small smile.

  “I am definitely a pain in the ass,” he said. “I’m beyond a pain in the ass. I’m very good at what I do. I have something of a perfect track record. No one gets away from me. Which makes me think this might be the work of my latest target. If he found out I’m the one after him, he might’ve taken steps to counteract that.”

  “But then why me? Why am I here?”

  “I hate to say it but you could be random.”

  “That makes no sense. What can they hope to gain by locking you up with a total stranger?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they’re trying to appeal to the good guy in me. Maybe they want to use you to get me to behave.” He didn’t go into details as to how all of that made sense and he could tell she wasn’t convinced.

&n
bsp; “Are you that good of a guy that you’d protect me at all costs?”

  “I…” No he wasn’t, he thought. And anyone who knew him knew that. He was a selfish bastard. He cared very little for the human women around him—unless he was trying to get in their pants. “I’m no saint,” was all he said to her. Then he stood up and began to pace.

  He wished he could make sense of all of this. If he had a clear idea of what his captors wanted, then maybe he could plan a course of action. But he was definitely hog-tied by being in there with an innocent victim. The more he thought about it, the more he thought they were going to use her to modify his behavior.

  She stood up as well, but moved to the recliners, took a seat, and curled up, drawing her knees to her chin and effectively finding a way to hide her nakedness from anyone watching. It was ridiculous. He’d already seen all of her and so had anyone else watching. But whatever made her feel better, he supposed.

  “What if it’s neither you nor me? What if this is just some random psycho?” she asked.

  He doubted that. Some random psycho would have no reason to poison her before putting her in with him. No. This was all about him.

  “That’s not very likely now, is it?” he said irritably. “That’s kind of a stupid thing to say.”

  “This whole situation is stupid!” she snapped. “I don’t belong here!”

  “And I do?” he returned harshly.

  She bit her lip and he could see tears welling in her eyes.

  “Damn it, don’t start crying now. It’s not going to help,” he said with exasperation.

  “Well, excuse me for having emotions! Excuse me for feeling fear and frustration! Not everyone can be a robotic asshole like you!”

  Well, he’d been called an asshole before but the robotic part was new. He supposed it was accurate though. He didn’t have all that much in the way of emotions. He did kind of go through his life on autopilot. Hunt. Eat. Play. Those were his three criteria for having a good life. As long as he could do those three things he was a happy man. All the rest kind of faded away and had no place in his existence.

  “Yeah well, I’d rather be a robotic asshole than an emotional mess. So sue me.”

  “I’m not an emotional mess!”

  “I didn’t say you were! I meant in general. Geez, don’t be so damn touchy.”

  “You’re a jerk. I can’t believe I’m stuck in here naked with a jerk.”

  He crossed over to her quickly and she flinched. That kind of kicked him in the gut. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. He wasn’t the one she needed to watch out for.

  Still, he reached out and grabbed her chin and lowered his face until they were only a nose distance apart.

  “You haven’t even begun to see the kind of asshole that I am,” he warned her. “Don’t push me, sister.”

  “You don’t scare me,” she lied with pretty convincing bravado. He knew he scared her. The whole situation scared her. He would know that even if she hadn’t already confessed as much.

  “That’s because you don’t fully appreciate the man you’re dealing with.” He scoffed and let go of her, returning to his pacing.

  “I think I have a pretty good idea,” she tossed back. “Will you please sit still? You’re making me dizzy. And I’m already dizzy enough,” she added, dropping her head back and closing her eyes. She swayed in her seat, clearly indulging in her high. He didn’t hold it against her. There was a reason why heroin was such a potently addictive drug…and she was experiencing it firsthand.

  “I’m too wound up to sit still. I have to think of a way to get us out of this mess.”

  “It would take some superhuman powers to get us out of this mess. Which you don’t have!”

  Actually he did, but he couldn’t tell her that. And now, if they did come in there while he was conscious, could he fight them and risk exposing himself as an energy vampire? He would have to. Then he would have to use hypno on her to make her forget what she had seen. Hell, he might do that anyway. She didn’t need to remember all of this. He could at least do her that kindness. Unless, of course, forgetting would put her in danger. Then he couldn’t do it. However, he could still alter some of her memories. Make her think things had unfolded in a different way from how they actually did. Provided she was an easy hypno. Some humans had such strong wills that hypno only worked to a certain degree.

  “You’d be surprised what I can do,” he said before thinking better of it.

  “Great. Now he thinks he’s Superman,” she muttered.

  “Just do me a favor…when the shit hits the fan around here, you duck and hide and wait for it all to be over with.”

  She scoffed. “You really do believe you’re going to strong-arm your way out of here.”

  “Do you have any better ideas?” he snapped.

  “No! But I’m not going to sit here and delude myself either.”

  “Look, just worry about yourself. Let me worry about me.”

  “Gladly,” she said with a sniff. She burrowed her face against her knees and sniffed again. It didn’t take long for him to figure out she was crying. Uncomfortable, he slowed his pacing and kept glancing at her, wondering to himself what he should do.

  Just let her cry, a part of him said. Let her get it out of her system. However, another part of him floated out the idea of somehow comforting her. But what could he do? His bag of tricks with women extended to how to talk them into sleeping with him, which didn’t usually take much because his target audience was desperate, sad, and lonely women looking for comfort however they could get it. This would take infinitely more finesse than that.

  In the end Halo went with his first instinct and just let her cry.

  Chapter 3

  Felice didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to look weak and pathetic but she couldn’t help herself. She was so frustrated and frightened, and her partner in captivity wasn’t helping matters at all. Of all the people she could have been stuck with, she had to get stuck with a guy with a terminal case of assholitis.

  On the plus side, he seemed like he could take care of himself. He was built like a locomotive, iron strong and big and intimidating. From what he told her, he was used to handling himself in rough situations. However, if she was in this mess because of him—if this was truly random on her part—well, she was going to be mighty pissed, and all the strength in the world wouldn’t save him from her wrath.

  Or at least that’s what she wanted to think. She knew she was no match for him. But maybe if she wasn’t a match for him then their captors wouldn’t be either.

  “Have you faced off with our kidnappers yet?” she asked him with a sniffle.

  “No, damn it, they knocked me out. That’s how you got in here. That’s how they were able to bring all this food in.”

  She watched him run a hand through his hair in frustration. He kept his soot black hair long, and braided down his back. Or maybe “raven’s wing” was a better descriptor because it was so glossy and shiny. He wasn’t what she would call classically handsome, but he definitely had a rugged appeal. Felice could easily imagine women throwing themselves at him. He had muscular definition all along his body that was the stuff of women’s dreams. The other thing she noticed was the size of his…hands. They were very large. Intimidatingly so. And what they said about a man’s hands definitely translated to other parts of his anatomy. That was intimidating too. She hoped all the women who threw themselves at him knew what they were getting into.

  Then again, if a woman was willing to put up with such an asshole, then maybe she got what she deserved.

  She knew he was her ticket out of this mess, however. There was no way she could launch an escape by herself. First of all, she was naked. Where could she go naked? It was bad enough her jiggly bits were on display for him, she didn’t want to run out in the world showing her jiggly bits to everyone else.

  That was a stupid thing to worry about, she told herself sternly. What did it matter if she was naked? Getting
out was the most important thing. Hell, she should be willing to show herself to the entire world if it meant regaining her freedom.

  “Do you have a plan to get us out of here?” she asked him. “I mean, you seem to know what you’re doing.”

  “Any plans I have require them coming in here without knocking me out first. And I’m not about to discuss my plans where they can hear me,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  “Well, excuse me,” she said snappishly. “Excuse me for wanting to be of some help.”

  “The best help you can be is to get out of the way when the time comes. I can’t be saddled with worrying about you if an opportunity presents itself.”

  She grumbled under her breath about arrogant assholes and he heard her.

  “Look. You want me to be nice to you or do you want someone who can be a pain in the ass to whoever has us? Frankly, I’d want the pain in the ass. The more grief I can give them, the better it will be for us.” He hesitated. “I don’t know how to be all sensitive and touchy-feely. So I’m probably going to rub you the wrong way. Hell, I get paid to rub people the wrong way. It’s what I live for.”

  “It must make for a very lonely life,” she said, feeling honest sympathy for him. “Pushing people away can only leave you standing there alone.”

  “So what? I’m the only one I can depend on. Don’t need anyone else.”

  “That’s very sad,” she said. “I suddenly feel very sorry for you.”

  “I don’t need your sympathy. I like my life just fine,” he snapped. “I have work when I need it and company when I need it. I eat when I’m hungry and sleep when I’m tired. I don’t want much more than that.”

  “What about connection? Love? Emotion?”

  “I don’t need it. It weighs you down. It’s all drama, stuff we make up so we’ll feel better about our lives. I feel just fine about my life the way it is. I don’t need to imagine connections and feelings to make it better.”

  “Now I really feel sorry for you,” she said softly.