Hungers of the Heart

by Jenna Black

  “For what it’s worth,” he said in a low whisper, “I’m sorry I had to do this. It was a mistake for me to hide my nature from her for so long.”

  Faith opened her eyes, though only her right would open all the way. The expression on Armand’s face showed genuine regret, though he cert hadn’t allowed that regret to temper his punishment.

  He brushed a finger over one of the bruises given her and flashed her a sad half-smile. “You were very brave, ma petite, and I appreciate your sacrifice. I never had any intention of hurting Lily. As so as I realized what she’d done, I decided you would bear the brunt of my punishment. But we’ll keep that be­tween ourselves.”

  He bent to plant a kiss on her forehead, and Faith had to fight an urge to go for his throat. If he’d planned this all along, then at least he could have told her so and spared her the terror she’d experienced at imagining his ferocity unleashed on Lily. She stifled any number of retorts and remained lying on the cold marble floor as Armand slipped out the front door for destination nations unknown.

  Shortly after Armand left, she heard another set of Footsteps coming from the stairs above her. Already her body was beginning to heal the damage, but she hadn’t the strength or the will to raise her head to see who approached. She didn’t even open her eyes, but her nose picked up the mingled scents of leather and sandalwood soap. Having not consciously noticed the scent before, she was surprised to realize she rec­ognized it as Drake’s.

  With a little sigh, she opened her eyes to see him kneeling beside her, exactly where Armand had been moments before. She shuddered, remembering the sight of Drake’s bared fangs, remembering him throwing the Guardian across the room. For some reason, even though she’d known almost since the beginning that he was a Killer, she’d allowed herself the romantic impression that he was somehow different from all the rest. She should have known better.

  “Are you all right?” Drake asked, then laughed mirthlessly and shook his head. “Never mind. Foolish question. May I give you a hand up? I’m sure we can find somewhere more comfortable for you to recuperate.”

  “I’m fine,” she lied. She pushed herself into a sitting position, gasping at the stabbing pain in chest. Armand must have cracked one of her ribs.

  Before she’d had time to recover from the pain. Drake had scooped her up in his arms. Instinctively, she put her arms around his neck to hold on.

  Drake carried her up the stairs, then down the hall of the second floor, where she could see Charles standing guard outside Lily’s room as ordered. Faith could hear muffled tears through the closed door, her heart twisted in her chest. Charles shrugged a mouthed an apology as Drake passed by and start up the stairs to the third floor.

  Faith noted with interest that he knew which room was hers, though it had been Jezebel who had handed out the room assignments. He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently. Every faint movement jarred something that hurt, and Faith bit her lip keep from crying out.

  Drake disappeared without another word, but’ was back shortly with a handful of ice packs, a washcloth, and a bowl of steaming water. He put the ice packs on the worst, deepest bruises, then used washcloth to dab away the blood from her split and bloody nose. All without saying a word.

  She closed her eyes and let him minister to surprised at how good his touch felt. The ice be to numb some of the pain, and the minor cuts and bruises were well on their way to healing. The rib hurt worse than anything, and, naturally, would take the longest to heal.

  “At home,” she said to distract herself from the pain, “no one would dare help someone the Seigneur had just punished. They’d have left me on the floor, walking around me if I was in the way, until I was well enough to pick myself up and dust myself off.”

  “I don’t work for Armand Durant,” Drake said, his voice tight with anger, “and I’m not about to leave someone lying on the floor.”

  Her eyes blinked open once again, and she met his troubled, angry gaze. “What if your fledgling had re­fused to back down and you’d had to carry out your threat? Would you have let him lie on the floor while he healed?”

  He averted his gaze as he dunked the washcloth in the bowl of water, rinsing off the blood. “First of all,” he said, squeezing out the water before turning back to her, “Eric isn’t my fledgling. I don’t have any fledglings—never have, and never will. And no, I wouldn’t have left him there.”

  She flashed him a faint smile. “Armand would have seen that as weakness.”

  “Armand can kiss my ass.”

  The unexpected rejoinder made Faith laugh, until her rib reminded her that laughing was a very bad idea just now. Drake had concentrated on the wounds he could see, so there was no ice on the aching rib.

  “Could you put one of those ice packs here?” she asked, pointing at the source of the pain.

  He lifted a pack from the side of hen head, nodded in approval at what he saw, then laid it down very gently over her rib. The ice pack tried to slide off to the side with her first breath, so Drake held it in place. As she waited for the numbing effect, she couldn’t help notic­ing that his hand was perilously close to her breast.

  The thought of that hand sliding upward to touch her aroused a sudden tug of desire in her center. She swallowed hard, closing her eyes and telling herself that tug was just her imagination. She couldn’t possi­bly be attracted to this man. Good-looking though he might be, kind as he might seem, he was a Killer and a bully, just like Armand.

  “I wish I could have done something to help you,” Drake said.

  Once more, she opened her eyes. She could hardly blame him for staying out of it. There had been no sensible alternative.

  “Armand and Charles are both six hundred yean old. We both know what would have happened if you’d interfered.”

  “Doesn’t stop me from wishing.”

  A lump formed in her throat. Even the knowledge that he’d wanted to help was somehow comforting. For six years, she’d had no sympathetic shoulder to cry or no one who genuinely cared for her, except Lily, who spent most of the year at boarding school and who at until now hadn’t understood what Faith faced. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed companionship, hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been.

  “How did you and Lily end up, in the Seigneur’s entourage, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Not her favorite topic in the world. But at least if they had something to talk about, he would stay to listen. For reasons she didn’t want to think about too closely, she didn’t want him to leave.

  “Lily and I went on a vacation in France. Our par­ents had died in a car crash a couple years before, and I’d become Lily’s guardian. She was having a hard time adjusting.” Faith gave a self-deprecating smile. “I wasn’t having such an easy time, either. Try becoming mother to an eight-year-old when you’re barely twenty-one yourself. We both badly needed some time away from the stresses of our everyday life, and our mom had been a huge Francophile. She’d taken us both to Paris when Lily was only a baby, and when I started talking about taking a vaca­tion, Lily said she wanted to go back there now that she was old enough to enjoy it.

  “So anyway, we went, and on the first night, I went down to the hotel bar after Lily went to bed.” That had been the first of her many mistakes. “I met a man there, and I let him buy me a drink.” She smiled faintly at the memory, despite everything that had happened afterward. “It made me feel so worldly and adult, sitting at the bar sipping a martini with a hand­some Frenchman. I didn’t notice that he never actu­ally took a sip of his own drink. Either the jet-lag had killed my powers of perception, or he used glamour to make sure I didn’t notice.

  “We had a nice time, and he was a perfect gem man. I went back to the room afterward and thou that would be the end of it. But the next night, at an exhausting day of touring, I went back to the and there he was. We talked some more, and I really starting to like him.

  “He claimed he was in Paris on a business trip that his work kept him b
usy all day. But we got together every night. He even took me and Lily around the city, showing us his favorite spots. We’d always go back to the hotel and put Lily to bed afterward. Then we’d have some private time once she was asleep.

  “By the end of the first week, I had a major crush on him, and I was pretty sure he felt the same way about me. Francois and I talked about our future, but only vaguely. Until the end of the second week, when it was time for Lily and me to fly home.”

  The memory of that dreadful night seared through her, and for a long moment, -her voice stuck in her throat. Drake didn’t prod her, instead waiting patiently until she found the strength and will to continue.

  “After Lily went to bed, François and I took a moonlit walk by the Seine, and he told me he didn’t want me to go home. He told me he loved me, and that he was rich enough to support both me and Lily so I didn’t have to worry about money.” She smiled again, and she suspected her expression held an odd combination of wistfulness and bitterness. “I was so tempted. I really believed I was in love with him, and he with me, and the notion of staying with him in

  Paris was so romantic—a young girl’s dream come true.

  “But I also knew that I couldn’t do it. Lily was al­ready showing signs of getting homesick, and after all that she’d been through, I couldn’t imagine up­rooting her like that, taking her away from all her friends and family and familiar surroundings. I told François that maybe one day in the future, I’d take him up on his offer, but I couldn’t do it right then.

  “At first when I refused, it was almost like he didn’t hear me. Then, when he realized what I was saying, lie tried to persuade me that staying was the right thing to do. When I kept saying I had to go home, he got mad and started yelling at me. He was so angry I was actually kind of scared of him suddenly. I walked away, and we were in the middle of a public place so he didn’t dare try to stop me?’

  Faith heaved a sigh, noticing absently that she managed jt without pain. Either the ice was helping, or her rib had healed.

  “He came to the hotel later that night, once I’d gone to sleep. He said we were meant to be together, and he wasn’t going to let me leave him. So he bit me. Lily woke up in the middle of it and started scream­ing, but François used his glamour to make her be quiet.”

  She would never forget the sound of Lily’s screams. Nor could she ever forget that she had invited François into her life and into Lily’s. If it hadn’t been for her girlish infatuation, none of this would have happened. She and Lily both would have gone home to live as normal a life as they could with both their parents dead.

  “And how did you get from being made a vampire to being in Armand’s entourage?” Drake prompted.

  “François was barely more than a fledgling himself. Only the Maître de Paris was authorized to create new fledglings. François had some crazy idea that he could hide me, I suppose. I think in his own twisted way, he really did love me. He spirited and Lily out of Paris into the countryside and nursed me back to health as I went through the transition. And, thank God, he didn’t turn Lily or kill her.

  “He tried to explain how he’d made inc with the best of intentions, how we were meant to be together. And he told me that just because I was a vamp:

  didn’t mean I had to kill anyone or drink from “ mans.

  “Anyway, I was still too weak and dazed to do any­thing about the situation. And Lily had been seri­ously traumatized and wouldn’t let François near her unless he used his glamour. He tried to keep moving us around to stay hidden, but we just weren’t up to it.

  “Armand found us and dragged us all back to his manor house in Rouen. He was actually very kind to Lily and managed to win her over despite all the trauma. And he wasn’t unkind to me, either. He just asked me what happened, and I saw no reason not to tell him the truth.

  “He executed François. He offered to let me watch but I had no interest in seeing anyone die. He didn’t tell me so at the time, but I know now that he didn’t kill François quickly—he made an example of him.” She shuddered. “I don’t know exactly what he did, and I don’t want to. But he can be very creative in his cruelty.

  “So that’s how I came to be with him. He some­how managed to get legal custody of Lily by claim­ing to be her uncle. I’m sure there was a lot of glamour involved. Ever since then, he’s managed to keep me with him because he has Lily as a perma­nent hostage. If it weren’t for her, I’d have run away from him long ago.”

  Drake raised an eyebrow at that. “Or died trying?”

  She winced. “Yeah. Probably. It’s not that Armand is that bad, at least not compared to other Seigneurs. It could have turned out a lot worse.”

  Drake nodded. “But you deserve better.”

  She smiled at that, not entirely sure that was true. She had let her own selfish infatuation with François blind her to his every fault, until it was too late and he’d turned her life—and Lily’s—upside down. Yes, Faith had been young at the time, but she didn’t think she would ever forgive herself for bringing that Killer into their lives.

  The rib was definitely feeling better, so she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Drake moved the ice pack away from her rib, then reached out to help tier sit up, and once again the touch of his hand stirred something inside her. Her body still felt sore and stiff, but the worst of the pain was gone, and in a half hour at most, she’d be as good as new.

  “Thanks for taking care of me,” she said, and her cheeks heated with the hint of a blush. Was it or because Armand had sent her to seduce him that was suddenly finding Drake so attractive? Surely had to be the case. She had vowed to herself never again would she allow a Killer into her he not even as a friend. Because the cold, hard truth the matter was that Killers were always going to 1 out for number one first. They proved that with every kill they made, choosing to end another person’s to preserve their own.

  Faith forced a smile, deciding not to risk Ii’ victim to blind infatuation once more. Having Drake in her bedroom was dangerous. “I’m feeling much better now,” she said. “You don’t have to stay.”

  Drake blinked at her, then frowned. “Are you still trying to seduce me? Because if so you’re not doing very good job of it.”

  She couldn’t help laughing, and he laughed with her, the sound warm and strangely intimate. She got the feeling he didn’t laugh very often, at least not with any genuine humor.

  “It’s hard to feel terribly seductive when you’ve just been beaten to a pulp,” she said wryly.

  He sobered, meeting her eyes and capturing her gaze. “I’m not going to suddenly lead you to Gabriel, but if you wanted to seduce me anyway, I wouldn’t object.” His eyes darkened, and though he kept his lips closed, she Suspected his fangs had descended.

  Faith broke the stare quickly. Her heart pattered her chest, and she’d have been lying to herself if SI said she wasn’t tempted. But it was pointless to start anything with him. When this was all over, she’d be either on the run, back in France, or dead. If she gavein to temptation, she’d probably let herself get too attached, and then she’d be miserable when she had to leave.

  She smiled at him, no doubt a bit wistfully, and said nothing.

  Drake rose with a shrug. “If you change your mind, I’ m downstairs, second door on the left.” He grinned ii her, showing that his fangs had indeed descended.

  Faith’s gums tingled, and she knew if she didn’t stop the flirting this instant, hers were going to de­scend also. Letting Drake see the evidence of her attraction was a bad idea.

  “Second door on the left,” she repeated, nodding. “Got it.”

  With a wink, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles. Then he walked out, hesitating only a moment at the door in case she should change her mind and ask him to stay. She clamped her jaws shut on the request and let him leave.

  8

  LEAVING FAITH TO her recovery, Drake retired t his borrowed room in Gabriel and Jez’s house, glad to reach his destination with
out encountering either the entourage or any of the Guardians. Just as well Faith had turned him down when he’d flirted with her. While it might have been nice to drown his rows in the pleasures of the flesh, he knew the wise option was to stay as far away from her as possible Never in his whole long life had he knowingly shared a woman with another man, and he was not about start now.

  Faith hadn’t come right out and said so, but she’ made every implication that she was Armand’s mi tress, if a reluctant one. Drake had enough problems without getting himself entangled with the Seigneur’s mistress. Even if her delicate beauty tempted Even if her nobility and self-sacrifice moved him.

  With a grunt of irritation, Drake shoved the by

  Faith from his mind. He couldn’t afford to have his head fogged with lust. His nerves felt brittle, his tem­per wavering on the edges of control.

  If he let down his emotional guard, Drake kept flashing back to the look of hurt betrayal in young Harry’s eyes when Drake had threatened Eric. Eli’s Guardians would have been unruffled by Drake’s show of aggression—they’d seen it all before, had some­times knowingly provoked him—but Eli had always been there to calm things before Drake hurt anyone.

  But Eli wasn’t here now. If the youngsters mu­tinied, there was only Drake to control them. Perhaps all the years he had worked for Eli he’d been fooling himself, thinking that working for a benevolent leader bad made him a better person. Maybe even a good person.

  Drake practically slammed his bedroom door closed behind him. He was becoming maudlin, wal­lowing in self-pity. But recognizing that didn’t seem to change the direction of his thoughts.

  With a start and a shiver of unease, Drake finally realized what the increasing intensity of his emotions signaled—he was experiencing the beginnings of hunger.

  His breath left him in a whoosh, and he had to sit down. In all the flurry of activity, he hadn’t paid at­tention to his feeding schedule, but now that he actu­ally thought about it, he realized it had been more than a week since his last kill. Under normal circum­stances, he could go ten days without feeding, but stress made the hunger worse.