Craved: A Vampire Syndicate Paranormal Romance (The Vampire Syndicate Book 2)

by Rebecca Rivard

  Two damn years, and I still wanted the woman—and gods, I hated her for it.

  I moved closer, toyed with a lock of her hair, deliberately imitating Étan.

  She brought her arms back to her sides and stilled, her face an expressionless mask that I longed to rip off just to see if there was still a real woman beneath.

  “Étan put his hand on you. Here.” I touched the hollow of her throat. “He was claiming you. He might as well have put a blood-bond bracelet on you.”

  I’d wanted to break every finger in the lieutenant’s hand. Slowly. Painfully.

  “And I know you didn’t want him touching you,” I added, “which makes me wonder why the hell you let him.”

  Zoe’s mask broke. She hissed and showed her fangs.

  I was making her edgy.

  Good. Anything was better than that expressionless façade.

  “Tell me you’re not going to mate with that asshole. The man treats you like you’re a brainless doll.”

  During the negotiations for the joint venture, Zoe had represented the Tremblays, but Étan had come to every meeting and proceeded to interrupt her and correct her statements until I hadn’t known who was really in charge.

  “Get. Away. From. Me.” She shoved me back a step. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

  I raised my hands, palms out. “Okay, okay.”

  Focus, Rafe. You’re not here to sex Zoe’s brains out—or even to rescue her from Étan and her viper of a mother. You’re here for Zaq.

  Zoe’s irises were rimmed vampire blue. At her sides, her fingers curved into claws. “My mating has nothing to do with you. Nothing, do you hear?”

  And that was the problem, wasn’t it? Her mating had nothing to do with me.

  I dragged a hand down my face. “You’re right, it doesn’t.”

  “Now for the last time,” she said between her teeth, “why are you here?”

  Charm her, you ass.

  But instead, I found myself speaking the simple truth. “I need your help.”

  Zoe shook her head and started to turn away.

  “Not for me,” I hurried to add. “For my brother—Zaquiel.”

  “I see.” Her shoulders slumped, as if I’d disappointed her somehow.

  “He’s been kidnapped by the slayers.”

  “Which doesn’t explain what you want from me.”

  “Hear me out. Last we knew, Zaq was in Paris. We think he was captured and held there by the slayers. You know Moreau.” Philippe Moreau was a high-level Paris enforcer, but more importantly, he was Victorine’s sire and sometime lover. “There’s no way in hell he wouldn’t know if a cell of slayers was operating in his city.”

  She moved a shoulder in a shrug. “So ask Philippe, not me. Or take it up with Slayers, Inc. Sounds like a rogue—let them handle it. Or your father for that matter. You’re not telling me Karoly Kral can’t take out a rogue slayer?”

  “Listen to me, damn it.” I took a breath, then continued more calmly, “It’s not just the slayers. Zaq’s neck showed bite marks. A vampire’s been feeding on him—maybe more than one.”

  Zoe made a shocked sound. “You’re sure?”

  Only another vampire could understand the shame of being fed from against your will. It wasn’t simply the loss of blood, it was the humiliation of someone taking it without permission, of a vampire touching that no-go zone. To us, it was a form of rape.

  “Yes,” I said grimly.

  “But why do you think SI is involved? That’s not their style. They don’t take prisoners. When they target you, you don’t end up in a cell. You end up with a stake through your heart.”

  “Exactly. Which is why we think a vampire is involved—like Moreau.”

  She pursed her lips. “I don’t know. It doesn’t sound like Philippe, either.”

  “Look.” I jerked a phone from my tux jacket, downloaded the photo of Zaq from a secret, triple-protected cloud server, and thrust it at her. “See for yourself.”

  She took the phone. Swallowed. She was silent for a few seconds, then she handed the phone back to me.

  “That’s not proof Philippe’s involved. It’s not even proof your brother was kidnapped. It could be photoshopped, a story you made up to cover why you’re really here.”

  My hand tightened on the plastic case. What had I done to make Zoe so suspicious of me? She was the one who’d come to my hotel room, allowing me to do everything but fuck her, and then left.

  While I’d stayed to face down Victorine, Étan, and two enforcers bent on breaking every major bone in my body.

  “It’s the truth, damn it. Zaq disappeared in Paris and no one’s heard from him since. Hell, look at his fucking neck.” I jabbed a finger at the screen. “A vampire fed on him. They chained my brother with silver and let a vampire drink his blood.”

  “All right,” she said. “Say it’s true and your brother’s been kidnapped by Philippe or the slayers or both. Why come to me? Why not take this up with the Paris Primus?”

  “Leo? Moreau is one of his top enforcers. You really think he’s going to admit Moreau has Karoly Kral’s son? They’d stake Zaq for sure.”

  “But what can I do?”

  She was going to make me say it.

  I shoved the phone back into my pocket. I’d had days to decide what to tell her, but this was still hard. I had some trust issues of my own.

  Still, one of us had to give, and from Zoe’s stony expression, it would have to be me. It was time to lay it all out there.

  “We believe Victorine’s behind it. That Philippe Moreau is the front. He’s involved—he has to be—but he’s doing it for her. Or maybe they’re in it together. And they’re both hiding behind Slayers, Inc.”

  Her definite black brows snapped down. “So that’s why you’re here? To accuse my mother of kidnapping your brother?”

  “You can’t tell me she wouldn’t like to send me and my brothers to the final grave—especially me. Hell, she told me so herself.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re saying my mother broke the treaty?”

  “Not exactly,” I said carefully. “But she could be honoring the letter of the treaty, not its spirit.”

  It was genius, actually—and very Victorine. Get Slayers, Inc. to eliminate me, Zaq and Gabriel, and Zoe’s mother would have her revenge on my father without having to dirty her own hands.

  “No.” Zoe set her jaw. “She signed that treaty in good faith.”

  I spread my hands. “Think about it. Take out me and my brothers, and my father loses his heirs. The succession would be in doubt. A power vacuum would open up, and while my father regrouped, Victorine could make her move, claim our territory for your syndicate.”

  And no one in the vampire world would stop her. That’s how things worked. Either a primus or prima was strong enough to hold their territory, or they lost it.

  “You’re wrong,” Zoe said. “My mother wants peace as much as your father does.”

  “I’m not so sure of that.”

  “Well, I am—and I would know. Victorine’s training me to become her lieutenant. I’ve been shadowing her for the last year. I’ve been at all the important meetings.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t want you to know. Because of us.”

  “There is no ‘us,’ and she knows that.”

  “Please, Zoe. I’m just asking you to look into it for me.”

  “No. I’m sorry about your brother, but I can’t help you.” Zoe’s mask was firmly in place again. “You’re asking too much. Even if I believed my mother was involved, I wouldn’t help you. You’d just take anything I told you back to your father.”

  I stared at her. “You saw that photo of Zaq and you can still ask why you should help?”

  Her throat worked. But she shook her head.

  I shoved my hands into my pockets, mind churning. Desperately searching for the right words, the ones that would convince her to help me.

  “What if I swear that any information you give me, I’
ll follow it up myself? That no one but us two will know you helped me?”

  “There’s no information to find,” she said between gritted teeth. “Your father’s wrong. Go back to New York and tell him that Victorine’s not the one behind your brother’s kidnapping.”

  “Okay.” I switched gears. “Say you’re right, and Victorine’s hands are clean. What about Étan? Maybe he’s doing this to suck up to your mother.” Or to seal the deal for Zoe, but I didn’t say that aloud.

  “Étan doesn’t need to suck up,” Zoe said flatly. “She already treats him like a son.”

  The son she’d never have, because a vampire-vampire mating produced just one spawn. Zoe was it for Victorine.

  An unwelcome sympathy for Zoe twisted through me. My brothers and I might be the half-bloods, the dhampirs whose father had had to fight to have accepted as his heirs, but being Victorine’s only spawn had to be worse. Karoly Kral might be a ruthless S.O.B., but I’d always known he’d loved me.

  “Suppose it was Étan?” I asked. “How would you go about finding out?”

  She moved a shoulder. “He’s smart—he’d cover his tracks. The best way would be to fly to Paris and see for myself what’s up.”

  “You’d do that?”

  She held up a hand. “Hold it right there. That was a hypothetical answer to a hypothetical question. I am not going to Paris.”

  I fisted my hands in my pockets. Out of arguments, but unable to make myself leave.

  I’d learned enough in the past week to believe Father might be right. Something about Zaq’s abduction smelled fishy, including the fake messages to me.

  Zoe was my only way in. Victorine trusted her. No one else close to the Tremblay Prima would help me, that was for damn sure.

  “Please,” I said. “We both know what your mother is capable of. She was forced to sign that treaty. My father gave your mother an ultimatum. Either she signed the treaty, or he’d keep coming after you.”

  Her mouth turned down. “Sounds like Karoly.”

  I set my teeth. “It goes both ways. Victorine sent assassins after me and my brothers, too—multiple times. But that’s not the point. The point is, forming an alliance with Slayers, Inc. would be the perfect way for Victorine to eliminate me and my brothers without appearing to break the treaty.”

  Zoe blew out a breath. “Rafe. I can’t.”

  “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  “Can’t and won’t. I’m a Tremblay, Rafe. And you’re a Kral. In the end, that’s all that matters.”

  We stared at each other. She looked away first.

  Disappointment hollowed out my chest. This was it, my last chance to find out something that could help Zaq. I’d have to return to New York emptyhanded.

  Like hell.

  I moved closer. Words hadn’t worked. I might as well try seduction. What did I have to lose?

  “Are you sure?” I wrapped my hand around her nape and brushed my lips over hers.

  It was manipulative as fuck. But my cock still stirred and began to harden.

  A tremor went over her. Her mouth softened, clung to mine.

  Triumph shafted through me. “You still want me.”

  Her throat worked. “Yes. No.”

  I kissed her again, hot and slow. “Which is it?”

  Her chest heaved. She set a hand on my tux and pulled back to meet my eyes. “So that’s the deal? I help you, and in return, I get your gorgeous body?” She tried to sneer but couldn’t quite pull it off.

  “Is it working?”

  “No.” But her hand stayed on my chest.

  I nibbled her earlobe. “I’m only asking you to do a little investigating. Zaq might not have much time left.”

  She shook her head and tried to push away, but I tightened my grip. “Please, Zoe.”

  “Let me go,” she said wearily.

  I growled and lifted my head. My hunger was rising again, and my edginess had returned in full force.

  “You owe me,” I gritted. “I trusted you, and you left me to get worked over by those bastards.”

  Her mask cracked. “The hell I do. What about you? I know why you pretended to be so interested in me. Karoly sent you instead of your brother Gabriel for a reason. Get Zoe hot and bothered so you could stick it to us in the negotiations.”

  I reared back. “What the fuck are you talking about? I was interested in you because you’re you.”

  “I saw the texts, Rafe. The one you sent Karoly. I’ve got her so hot for me, she can’t think straight.” Her voice faltered. “Victorine said you were going to blackmail her into sweetening the deal.”

  “What texts?”

  “The ones you sent your father—on your own phone.”

  “Who showed you, Étan? The prick took my phone before they worked me over. He could’ve had a tech hack into it and add whatever he wanted..”

  Her neck muscles tensed beneath my hand.

  I swore. “It was him, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you believed it.” I shook my head and moved away. “I didn’t tell my father a fucking thing about us. You think I wanted him to know? That casino was my chance to prove myself. I knew damn well I was risking the joint venture by meeting you in secret like that.”

  “Maybe you thought having sex with me would make things easier for you.”

  “Like hell. You sure didn’t seem like a woman who’d let sex get between her and business. And I definitely wasn’t planning on blackmailing you—or Victorine, for that matter.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because I didn’t send those texts. Is it so hard to believe I wanted you for yourself?”

  “But Victorine said—”

  I growled. “I know she’s your mom, but this is Victorine, right? The woman who made sure you were never alone with me, because the gods forbid a dhampir touch her precious pureblood daughter? Whatever she told you about me was a lie. What happened between you and me had nothing to do with the joint venture—that was business. What happened between us was personal.”

  Zoe’s brows scrunched together. Vampires can’t read each other’s emotions like we can a human’s. She had no way to tell if I was telling the truth, or vice versa.

  Indecision flickered across her face. “But—”

  “Wake up, Princess. Your mother didn’t just want me gone. She wanted you to hate my guts.”

  She swallowed and shook her head. “I—just go. I have to get back before they miss me.”

  “Wait.” I grabbed her arm. “Tell me one thing. You owe me that much, at least.”

  I’d lost. I knew that.

  But I was damned if I’d let her go without answering the question that had burned in me for two years.

  “Why humiliate me like that? I thought we were friends at least. I understand why you didn’t fight your mother. But the rest? I didn’t deserve that.”

  “No.” Her gaze slid from mine. “You didn’t. But I couldn’t stop them from beating you. If I’d tried, it would’ve only made things worse.”

  “Damn it, Zoe.” Suddenly, I couldn’t bear to touch her any longer. I released her and stepped back. “I’m not saying you could’ve stopped the ass-kicking. Victorine was out for my blood. But you acted like I was nothing to you except the pretty boy you picked to punch your V-card.”

  “I’m sorry.” She heaved a breath. “I—that was wrong. I could tell you I was trying to make it convincing, that they’d have hurt you worse if I’d acted like you mattered. But I did it for me, too. To save face.”

  I curled my lip. “I hope it worked.”

  “No,” she said flatly. “It just made me feel like crap.”

  I expelled a breath. “So that’s it. You’re sorry. And you’re not going to help me find Zaq.”

  “Rafe, I—” She wrapped her arms around herself. It was clear her mind was made up. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  So much for my famous charm. I’d have to go back to New York with nothing.

/>   No information that could help Zaq. No closure with Zoe. Hell, I hadn’t even gotten to dance with her at her goddamn ball.

  “The hell with your apologies,” I said, low and bitter. “But you know what? I’m sorry, too—that you’re so blinded by your mother’s lies that you can’t see you’re just a pawn to her. She pushes you around like a piece on a chessboard. The woman won’t even let you choose your own mate.”

  I stalked back into the bedroom and leapt onto the windowsill.

  “Oh, and by the way”—I arranged my mouth in a mocking smile because that’s what Rafe Kral did when things went south—“happy birthday, Princess.”

  9

  ZOE

  Rafe crouched on the windowsill, a sleek black wolf in a tux.

  Let him go.

  I’d known he hadn’t returned to Montreal to see me. But my heart had hoped I was wrong, that he’d come back for me. That second chances actually existed.

  I should’ve called security on him the moment I found him in my rooms. But I couldn’t think straight when he was around.

  Let him go.

  Rafe Kral was a weakness—a craving—I couldn’t afford, especially now.

  I was this close to having the one thing I’d always wanted. Power.

  Real power.

  The kind where no one would ever again brush me or my ideas aside because I was too young and “soft”—or leave me on an island for months at a time with just Jean-Michel, the servants and a couple of thralls to make sure I was fed.

  Rafe’s body grayed-out, losing color and blurring at the edges as he entered the shadow dimension.

  And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let him go.

  I’d tried to forget the man for two years, and it hadn’t worked. I was damned if he'd crash my party, get me all churned up, and leave.

  “Prove it.” I shot forward and snagged his wrist, anchoring him in the physical dimension. “You say my mother and Étan lied about those texts? Then prove it.”

  He twisted his arm, forcing me to release him, and clamped his fingers around my wrist instead. Dark eyes scorched into mine. “How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”