Hungers of the Heart

by Jenna Black

  his own eight-hundred-year-old mother and her flock of fledglings. But with his power as spotty as it was now, there was no guarantee.

  “Secondly,” Gabriel continued, “even if you suc­ceeded in killing me, Brigitte would tear your guts out at her leisure without breaking a sweat.”

  The Seigneur held himself even more stiffly up­right. “We are not newly created fledglings, Charles and I. Brigitte is half our age, and—”

  “And a born vampire. From what I’ve heard, she’s run circles around you from the beginning. I can help you capture her.”

  The Seigneur raised an eyebrow. “Why should I believe you’d want to? Your second led me to believe you were imprisoned, and now I find that is a lie. Your credibility is not high.”

  “I was imprisoned,” Gabriel said, talking with ex­aggerated care. “The reason I can help you capture Brigitte is that she doesn’t know I’ve escaped. She’ll know you’re coming, but she won’t sense me. Sur­prise can be a powerful tool.”

  Drake cleared his throat. He was only halfway paying attention to the conversation, instead keeping most of his concentration on the vampire they’d been following. The vampire who was now moving in their direction.

  “Uh, I think Henri is wondering why we’ve stopped,” Drake said, and the three older vampires immediately took the point and started moving for­ward again, more slowly than before. Perhaps it wasn’t unreasonable for them to have slowed down, considering they would have to be complete morons not to recognize this as a trap.

  “If you’ll give me one of your tranq guns,” Gabriel said as they walked, “I’ll take a shot as soon as we catch up with them, wherever they’re leading us.”

  The Seigneur laughed. “I don’t see myself handing a gun to you. We may at the moment have a mutual enemy, but that does not make us friends.”

  “No, it doesn’t. However, Brigitte will have harder time overcoming me with her glamour than she will you.” -

  “Oh? If that’s difficult for her, then how did she manage to imprison you?”

  Gabriel gave him a disdainful look. “A tranq gun of course. And the element of surprise.”

  The Seigneur seemed to believe that explanation but he didn’t hand over his gun. With a shrug, Gabriel accepted the verdict and dropped back, allowing Ar­mand and Charles to take the lead. He fell into beside Drake as they continued to follow the elusive psychic presence that continually darted around corners and changed directions, leading them on a merry chase.

  Eventually, the distance between them and the supposedly fleeing vampire closed. And then the vampire came to a stop. Drake exchanged a concerned with Gabriel, but since they already knew they walking into a trap, he supposed there was no reason not to keep going-forward.

  The vampire they all assumed to be Henri was now little more than a block ahead of them, around the corner. Assuming Brigitte was on the lookout somewhere, she probably knew by now that Gabriel was with them. But Henri was nevertheless holding still, waiting for them to catch up.

  They approached the mouth of what looked to be a narrow alley. Henri had led them to a commercial district, where most buildings were shut up for the night, so there were few people to see them. Charles and Armand held their guns at the ready, but waited for Drake and Gabriel to close the distance between them before they all turned the corner together.

  ***

  FAITH HAD AT one time doubted her ability to kill another living being. That doubt was now thoroughly extinguished.

  Hogtied, she lay in the darkened luggage compart­ment of La Vieille’s private jet and knew she would sink her teeth into the throat of Charles or any of his cronies without the slightest hesitation. She squirmed, trying without success to find a more comfortable position. She doubted she’d been tied for more than fifteen minutes, but already the strain was turning to agony.

  “Lily?” she called into the darkness, her voice echoing against the metal walls.

  Lily’s only answer was a soft groan. The sound caused Faith’s fangs to descend, and she struggled against her bonds despite the pain. When Charles’s accomplices had tied Faith, Lily had unwisely protested. One of them had backhanded Lily hard enough to knock the poor girl out.

  Tears blurred Faith’s vision as her mind frantically sought an escape. But she and Lily were tied an-sealed in this compartment, and outside lurked two vampires and two mortals, all of whom were loyal to La Vieille.

  She suppressed a scream of frustration. She didn’t care how many people guarded the plane, or how un­likely an escape might be. She would fight with every breath that remained in her body, and if she found a way to get Lily out, she’d take it, whatever the cost to herself.

  Lily groaned again, and Faith slowly, painfully started wriggling in that direction. Every inch was a battle, but she would get to her sister’s side if it killed her.

  After what felt like an hour, her body was drenched in sweat and the muscles in both her arms and legs were cramping viciously, but she’d reached Lily.

  “Faith?” Lily whimpered, the fear in her voice more than Faith could bear.

  “It’ll be all right, sweetie,” she said, no matter how much she doubted her own words. “We’re going to get out of this.”

  “How?” Lily asked, and the word was just short of a wail. Faith could smell her terror in the air. Once upon a time, she’d thought she hated Armand. Her anger at him had been but the palest shadow of what she felt now for Charles.

  More pain lanced through Faith’s strained muscles as she shifted position and tried to find the knots that bound Lily’s wrists. Lily tried to help, but let out a muffled shriek as soon as she moved, her mortal body reacting even more strongly to the bondage than Faith’s.

  “Just hold still, sweetie,” Faith urged through grit­ted teeth. “Let me do the work.”

  Lily obeyed, and eventually Faith found a knot her fingers could pry at. The extreme awkwardness of her position made it almost impossible to get a se­cure grip on the rope, but Faith’s vampire strength helped her begin to loosen the knot.

  A jolt of adrenaline shot through her at this tiny success, but she reminded herself how far they still had to go. Even if she managed to get both of them free, they still had to get out of this compartment and escape their guards. And she had no idea how long it would be before someone felt the need to check on them.

  Trying not to panic, Faith told herself to take one problem at a time as she continued working on the stubborn knot.

  17

  NEITHER DRAKE NOR his companions were sur­prised to see Brigitte and Henri, arm in arm, waiting for them at the back of what turned out to be a dead-end alley. What did surprise them was that neither vampire made a hostile move.

  Without speaking, Armand fired at Brigitte, but she merely laughed as her telekinesis stopped the dart in midair. Charles was standing in a shooter’s stance, but he didn’t fire. Brigitte’s eyes widened just a bit when she caught sight of Gabriel, but she recov­ered almost immediately.

  Suddenly, the dart that had been hovering turned around and hurled itself into Gabriel’s shoulder. Drake could see the effort Gabriel expended trying to stop it, but though he seemed to slow the dart’s tra­jectory, its point still pierced his leather jacket. With a curse and a growl, he went down.

  The gun that Charles failed to fire wrenched its way out of his fingers and flew to Brigitte’s hand. Drake, ignored by everyone, saw Henri’s eyes start to glaze over as if he were succumbing to the Seigneur’s glamour—Charles looked far too un­nerved and indecisive to be the source—but Brigitte fired the gun she’d snatched, and within seconds of the dart lodging itself in the Seigneur’s chest, Henri’s eyes cleared.

  Brigitte laughed again. “Would anyone else like a shot?” she asked. “I have some spare darts right here.” She patted the pocket of her jacket.

  Gabriel and Armand were both in too much pain to respond, and neither Drake nor Charles seemed up to a convincing quip.

  “No?” Brigitte asked, s
ticking her lip out in an ex­aggerated pout. “What a shame. It’s so much fun to shoot. And I never miss.”

  No, not when she could use her powers to guide the dart if it went astray. -

  “So what happens now?” Drake asked, because Charles seemed too dumbfounded to talk.

  Brigitte sauntered forward, Henri at her heels like the faithful dog he was. “I’ve grown exceedingly bored with this game,” she said, smirking at Armand. “Do you know that I sent Henri into that house twice, and no one so much as noticed he was there, much less laid a finger on him?” Her nose wrinkled. “I love to play games, but I like there to be at least some challenge.”

  Drake frowned. “Henri was in the house twice?”

  “Yes. He took care of that strumpet Armand was so enamored of. And then he finished off the cannon fodder. Er, that is, the mortals.” She smiled brightly. “I’ll have you know, Gabriel, that I forbade Henri to hurt the mortal child. I thought you might appreciate my restraint.”

  Gabriel said something unintelligible that didn’t’ sound in the least appreciative.

  The explanation didn’t make sense to Drake. “How could Henri kill the mortals when he was busy attacking us and killing Jacques?”

  “Henri couldn’t have killed those mortals,” Charles agreed, and Drake’s nostrils flared at the stink of fear he emitted. A sheen of sweat coated his brow.

  “He can’t?” Brigitte asked innocently. -

  “No! One vampire couldn’t drain four mortals dry all by himself.”

  A look of cunning entered Brigitte’s eyes as she ­smiled once again. “Now did I say he was all by himself?” I don’t remember saying any such thing. And no, it wasn’t Henri who killed your friend Jacques. Perhaps it will begin to enter your minds now that Henri and I might not be alone?”

  Now it was Drake’s turn to curse. “Padraig!” he spat. He was a fool not to have realized it earlier. He knew Padraig was Brigitte’s ally, and that he Si hoped to win Drake to his side. The note and phone call hadn’t worked, so he’d decided to try in-person approach. “He’s about the same age Henri. Their auras would look the same.” Although Padraig’s glamour shouldn’t have been strong enough to hold Charles, Drake, and Eric spellbound while he killed Jacques.

  But he stopped questioning the idea when some in­stinct prompted him to do another psychic sweep. Slowly, dread rising from his toes and sweeping up his body, he turned to look behind him.

  Padraig was almost close enough to touch. He had done away with the dramatic handlebar mustache that had once adorned his face, and his coarse red hair was longer and far less greasy than when Drake had last seen him, but the jaunty, friendly grin that hid the heart of a Killer remained exactly the same. Behind him stood five more vampires, four men and a woman, none of whom Drake recognized.

  “Happy to see me, Johnnie-boy?” Padraig asked, and Drake could only scowl at him. The vampires be­hind him pressed a little closer, one of them staring at Gabriel with bared fangs.

  Brigitte made a tskirig sound, and the hostile vam­pire looked toward her. “Now, now, Luke. We’ve talked about this. Gabriel is under my protection.”

  It took a moment for Drake to make the connec­tion, but he finally remembered that the Master of Washington was named Luke. He very much doubted it was a coincidence.

  Brigitte continued. “These are the Masters of Rich­mond, Boston, Trenton, and Toronto. You already know the Master of New York, and Gabriel is well acquainted with the Master of Washington.”

  The last thing Drake wanted was to have Padraig at his back, but he forced himself to turn to face Brigitte. Armand and Gabriel were incapable speech, and Charles apparently had nothing to say.

  “What do you want?” Drake asked, speaking for all of them. -

  “To be left alone,” she answered. “I knew my de~ mother would be sending people after me. Gabriel still being difficult, but I thought some of the other masters in the area might be more. . . amenable to strategic alliance.

  “I am declaring myself the Seigneur of the Eastern Seaboard,” Brigitte said, affecting a haughty pose. “And now, it is time for a quick phone call to Mama.” She pulled out a cell phone, her eyes almost glow~ with pleasure. The voice that answered was too by for Drake to hear.

  “Bonjour Maman,” Brigitte said, before switching to English, for her audience’s sake. “I hope I didn’t’ wake you. But I thought you’d like to know that your dear Armand is curled into a whimpering ball at my feet, and that Charles appears to have misplaced his tongue.”

  Drake couldn’t understand the voice on the other end of the line, but he could hear the fury in it.

  Brigitte laughed. “You’ll have to do much better than that, Maman. Shall I kill them and put them out of their misery? Or would you prefer to do the honors yourself? I wouldn’t want to deprive you of that pleasure.”

  The hair on the back of Drake’s neck prickled at the sounds that emanated from the phone, but Brigit just smiled as Henri Slipped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck. When the tirade ended, Brigitte’s smile widened even more.

  “Á bientôt, Maman,” she said, then closed the phone. Her glance swept the assembled vampires. “I believe we’re finished here.” Her gaze then focused first on Charles, then on Drake. “Unless one of you would like to provide some entertainment? No?” She sighed dramatically. “What a shame.” She approached Charles and patted him on the cheek. “I’ll give you a call sometime,” she said cryptically, then headed toward the mouth of the alley.

  Most of her pet masters followed her, but Drake wasn’t surprised when Padraig stayed behind.

  “Might I have a word with you, Johnnie?” he asked. Drake looked at Charles. “Padraig’s my maker, so I can’t fight him. But you can take him?’

  “Why should I?” Charles asked, and Drake had no answer for that. Charles knelt at his maker’s side and dragged Armand’s arm over his shoulders. “We need to get out of here while we can,” he said, though he didn’t sound terribly hopeful.

  If Gabriel weren’t incapacitated, no doubt he would have killed both of them, either out of mercy, to spare them the wrath of La Vieille, or just to pre­vent them from taking up residence somewhere in the U.S. and wantonly preying on the population. But Gabriel still lay on the pavement, teeth gritted and face contorted with the pain of the drug. And Drake was no match for Charles.

  “Come now,” Padraig urged. “Talk with me. What can it hurt?”

  The question made Drake laugh. “I have nothing to say to you.” He turned, meaning to help Gabriel up, but suddenly he found himself in the grip of his maker’s glamour.

  “It wasn’t a request,” Padraig said. “Now come along.”

  Helpless to resist, Drake followed his maker out of the alley, leaving Gabriel lying on the pavement.

  ***

  WITH ARMAND’S ARM slung over his shoulder, Charles made his way down the street, using his glamour to turn the attention of the few mortals they passed. He wasn’t sure what Brigitte expected him to do now, but he couldn’t imagine what alternative he had but to go to the airport. Surely if she had other plans, she’d call and let him know.

  When Charles spotted a parking lot on his right, he dragged Armand into a pool of darkness and waited until a lone mortal parked his car. Impatient to get away, to have this all over with, Charles quickly killed the man and appropriated his car keys. Armand managed a feeble protest, but the tranquilize. still held him powerless.

  “I’m sorry, my friend,” Charles said as he popped open the trunk. By now, a lot of the guilt had fade replaced by a soothing numbness. Charles was d what was necessary to survive. Why should he guilty for preserving his own life? He doubted the numbness would last, but at the moment he was thank­ful for it.

  The look in Armand’s eyes said he’d finally real­ized that Charles was betraying him, but Charles hardened his heart even further as he heaved his maker into the trunk of the car then slammed it shut. Soon, all this unpleasantness would be nothing
but a memory, one he would lock away in the corner of his mind where it couldn’t hurt him. It was a lie, and he knew it, but he clung to it in desperation.

  Thinking about what it would be like to bite into Lily’s throat, to grant her immortal life while binding her to his will, Charles drove to the airport where La Vieille’s private jet awaited him.

  ***

  DRAKE CONTINUED STRUGGLING against the pull of Padraig’s glamour, but it was far too strong for him to overcome. So when Padraig opened the door to a car and gestured him in, he had no choice but to obey.

  “Where are we going?” he asked as Padraig pulled out into the sparse traffic.

  “Just putting some distance between us and your new master. I don’t wish for us to be interrupted, so I’m taking you outside the range of Gabriel’s senses.”

  Like Gabriel was capable of interrupting while the “tranquilizer” was in his system. “Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”

  “Patience, Johnnie-boy. We’ll have a chance talk to soon.”

  Drake sat in stubborn silence as Padraig drove through the city streets. At his hip, his cell phone buzzed, but Padraig held him immobile and couldn’t answer.

  Eventually they pulled into a large parking garage, Padraig drove until the lines of cars became scarce, then pulled into a spot in a dark and shadowy corner. He put the car in park, then turned to face Drake, finally letting up on the glamour.

  Drake sat stiffly and looked straight ahead, trying not to grind his teeth. “Now will you tell me what you want?”

  “I already told you.”

  Reluctantly, Drake turned to look at his maker. “You really want me to come back to New York?” asked, but he couldn’t imagine why Padraig would so adamant about it. Why should he want Drake back after more than a century of exile?

  “I was the first master that Brigitte and her friend approached. I’d never heard of a born vampire, and I was not about to bow down to a slip of a girl only a little older than I. She made an example of me that she could use to bend the others to her will. When she was finished, more than half of my fledglings were dead.” He looked into Drake’s eyes with utter sincerity. “I need you. I’m vulnerable now. Our fine lady talks as she is to become both our queen and our savior, I’m not buying what she’s selling.” He shook his he. “She doesn’t give a damn about any of us.”