Hungers of the Heart

by Jenna Black

  Still, when he saw Faith swaying on her feet, her arms bound behind her, a strange vampire holding her, his will steadied. It didn’t matter what the odds were.

  No one seemed to be too worried about him when he pulled his car up beside the red sports car he pre­sumed belonged to Brigitte. By the time he got out, Charles had dropped to the tarmac himself and was howling in pain. Drake saw the tranq gun in Brigitte’s hand and knew what had felled Charles.

  He held his hands out to his sides and approached slowly, still having no plan. The only thing he had going in his favor at the moment was that one oldest of his adversaries was down for the count. He glanced from Charles to Brigitte, wondering what she was up to. If she’d wanted to kill him, she easily have done it in the alley.

  “How good of you to come and see your friends off,” Brigitte said. She kept the tranq gun trained on him, and though he knew she didn’t need it to stop him in his tracks, his muscles tensed in anticipation.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said, his voice calmer than he’d dared hope it would be.

  “The feeling is mutual,” she assured him, cocking her bead. “Why are you here, I wonder?”

  “Re wants the girls,” Henri said, looking over his shoulder at Faith and Lily, then turning back toy Drake and licking his lips.

  “Ah!” Brigitte said. “Of course. I’ve heard you fancy yourself something of a gentleman?’

  Drake looked at Faith and Lily as Brigitte and Henri gloated. There was a bruise on Faith’s chin and angry red welts circled Lily’s wrists and ankles, but otherwise they seemed unhurt. So far.

  ‘4What would you offer me in exchange for these lovely ladies?” Brigitte asked.

  Drake wracked his brain for something he could offer, but he couldn’t think of a single thing he had that Brigitte might want. He dropped his gaze, and noticed the Seigneur lying in the shadow of the car, had his eyes open and was staring at him.

  Instinct warned him to look away before anyone the noticed the direction of his gaze, and he did. But he wondered if that stare meant the Seigneur was begin­ning to recover from the drug. Drake’s sense of time was completely out of whack with all the adrenaline that had been pumping through his system since the confrontation in the alley, but he remembered that Gabriel had been feeling better—if not exactly well—when they’d spoken. Perhaps he had an ally here after all.

  The one thing he knew was that the longer he man­aged to stall, the more Armand would recover, and the more likely that Gabriel would catch up with him— assuming Gabriel cared enough to come after him.

  He shook his head and met Brigitte’s curious gaze. “Why don’t you tell me what you would like in exchange for them?”

  “Hmm’ she said, tapping her chin with her index finger. “I’ve promised the lovely Faith to Henri. But I can let you have the mortal.” She turned to the vampire who had hold of Lily. “Let her go?’

  “I can’t!” the vampire protested. “La Vieille would kill me for giving up one of her—”

  Brigitte laughed. “As if you have any choice in the matter. You know how easily I can force you to let her go, so why don’t you stop acting the fool?”

  Reluctantly, he released Lily, but she stood frozen to the spot, her eyes glazed. Drake might have thought she was under the influence of glamour, but the scent of fear that emanated from her suggested it was more shock and terror than anything.

  “Go on, Lily,” Faith urged. “Go with Drake.” She hiccupped slightly, and a tear snaked down her cheek.

  There was no way in hell he was leaving without Faith, but if Brigitte was willing to give up Lily without a fight, he’d take her. He held out a hand to Lily.

  “Come on,” he said, checking on Armand’s condition out of the corner of his eye.

  The Seigneur was still watching him, but when Drake caught his eye he gave a slight shake of head. Drake took that to mean he wasn’t up to a credible attack yet.

  Lily still hadn’t moved, though her eyes had cleared somewhat, a hint of intelligence returning to her expression.

  Drake beckoned with his outstretched hand. “Come here. Let’s get you taken care of first, then we’ll what we can do about Faith, okay?”

  She blinked, then glanced at her sister. “Faith she asked, sounding suddenly younger than her sixteen years.

  “Please go with him, sweetie,” Faith begged, desperation clear in her voice and face.

  Lily swallowed hard, then began to move cautiously toward Drake, her eyes darting from one vampire to another, as if she could prevent them from jumping her if she could just keep them in sight.

  When she took Drake’s outstretched hand, he sighed in relief, then reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out the car keys.

  “Take my car,” he said, “and get out of here. The car is stolen, so you’ll want to abandon it as soon as you’re far enough away.” He pushed the keys into her hand when she didn’t immediately take them. Then he pulled out his cell phone and handed it to her. “You can speed-dial Gabriel when you’re out of here and he’ll send someone to come pick you up.”

  She took the phone, but looked over at Faith once more. Drake’s heart broke at the raw emotion on the girl’s face. Drake reached out and turned her face toward him, making her look into his eyes.

  “The best way to help your sister right now is to get to safety’ he told her. “Her fear for you hurts worse than anything they can do to her?’

  Lily’s lip quivered, and she looked at the keys in her hand. Then she stood up a little straighter and glared at him. “You’d better get her out of here,” she snarled. Then she got into the car, not even bothering to adjust the seat before she shoved the keys in the ignition and stomped on the accelerator.

  Drake held his breath as he watched the lights of the car recede. When he couldn’t see the lights any­more, he tracked her with his psychic senses and was relieved that she continued toward the exit. He wasn’t sure what would happen when she reached the gates and the security guard—especially considering that she was driving a stolen car without a license—but he’d done what he could for her. Now he had to fig­ure out what he could do for Faith.

  He turned back to Brigitte, who was smirking at him. “Now, let’s talk about what you’re going to give me as a reward for freeing the little mortal said.

  Drake snorted. “You were going to free anyway. You know Gabriel would never forgive you for hurting a child.”

  She shrugged. “All I’d have had to do is kill you, and he’d never have known.”

  “If you were planning to keep her, you would have let her go without getting your pound of flesh first.”

  She stuck out her lower lip. “I suppose that’s true.” She dispensed with the pout and became all business again. “Are you satisfied now that I’ve let the girl go, or are you still hoping to bargain for Faith?”

  “What do you want for her?” he asked, feeling like a slaver at an auction. And he had a bone-deep conviction that Brigitte was just toying with him. She’d promised Faith to her boy toy, and Drake doubted there was anything he could offer that would make her break that promise. However, she’d probably enjoy giving him hope and then snatching it away. Every moment he kept her talking was another moment for the Seigneur’s strength to come back for Gabriel to catch up.

  “Make me an offer,” Brigitte said.

  He thought furiously. Then he realized he already had part of his answer. Brigitte wanted to be “entertained.” And she was entertained by strife, despare, and pain.

  “I’ll fight Henri for the right to take her,” he said and saw the interest that kindled in her eyes.

  “Henri is more than twice your age. Even without my help, he’s more than a match for you?’

  “Not if we agree not to use glamour?’ Henri was no doubt physically stronger than Drake, but the dif­ference in physical strength that came with age was nowhere near as prominent as the difference in psy­chic strength. Theoretically, Drake should
have a chance against the older vampire in a good, old-fashioned fistfight. And Drake might well have the advantage of experience in street fighting.

  Brigitte looked thoughtful, and Drake’s hopes surged. He had no illusions that Henri would refrain from using glamour and fight fair, nor did he believe that Brigitte would hand Faith over even if Drake managed to prevail. But if he could use the fight to maneuver Henri toward Armand. . . The Seigneur didn’t seem to be anywhere near strong enough yet to attack, but if Henri were to fall in his lap, he might be able to summon one burst of strength. Brigitte was a significant threat on her own, but Drake suspected she’d be severely weakened without Henri.

  “I have to admit’ she said, “your offer is tempting. But only if Henri agrees.” She smiled at him. “What do you think, dearest?”

  He gave Drake a disdainful look. “She’s already been premised to me’ he said. “Why should I have to fight to keep her?”

  “Are you afraid you’ll lose?” Drake retorted. It was an obvious ploy, but with a predatory creature such as Henri, it might work. At least, that’s what Drake told himself until Henri laughed.

  “I would not lose,” he said, still chuckling “I simply see no reason to exert myself. I believe you Americans would say, ‘What’s in it for me?’”

  “The chance to impress your maker.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You think she would be impressed that I could defeat you when it’s a fore-gone conclusion?”

  Drake found himself more eager for the fight now--- he itched to prove the bastard wrong, even while he doubted his ability to do so. “All right, then-chance to entertain her.”

  Henri paused at that, then turned to Brigitte. “Is this true, ma déesse? Would you enjoy watching fight him?”

  Brigitte’s eyes twinkled as she smiled at him. “Yes, I believe I would. Especially if you were both to remove your shirts. I so admire the sight of solid male muscles.”

  Henri put one hand to his heart and bowed. “Then for your pleasure alone, I will accept the challenge.’ He began removing his expensive silk shirt, but con­sidering it was already unbuttoned halfway. to his navel, it didn’t take long.

  Drake felt mildly ridiculous taking off his shirt, but he did it anyway, ignoring the ooh of pleasure from Brigitte. Henri’s eyes hardened when he heard it, and Drake knew that jealousy would feed into his ferocity.

  They began to circle each other, Drake trying to draw Henri closer to where Armand lay. Henri charged before Drake got him where he wanted him. He met the charge with an uppercut that “mysteriously” missed its mark. Drake knew it was glamour that had caused him to miss, but he was in no position to protest. Henri plowed into him, and they both fell to the tarmac, Henri on top.

  A crushing punch landed on Drake’s jaw, but he ignored the pain and concentrated on pitching Henri off of him, knowing he was neither winning the fight nor moving it where he wanted it to go. He kicked upward with both legs, catching Henri right about hip level and catapulting him up and over Drake’s head.

  Drake immediately rolled to the side and got to his feet. Unfortunately, his throw had moved Henri even farther from Armand. Henri flashed fangs as he picked himself up off the tarmac and stalked closer. Drake backed up, leading him toward the cars—and the Seigneur.

  Henri stopped and gestured for Drake to take a swing. Drake knew he couldn’t refuse the challenge without someone wondering about his true motives. Telling himself to be patient, he stopped his retreat and looked for an opening.

  Henri gave him that opening, and though Drake knew he’d done it on purpose, he swung anyway. His fist glanced off Henri’s shoulder as the older vampire dodged at supernatural speed and kicked out at Drake’s knee. Drake saw the kick coming and man­aged to twist enough to take it on his calf instead of his knee, but the pain that shot through his leg felled him anyway.

  Instinct made him roll as soon as he hit the ground, avoiding Henri’s pounce, but when he got to his feet he could hardly put any weight on his left leg. He smelled blood on the air, and that’s when he noticed the abrasions the tarmac had left on the bare his chest and back.

  Henri grinned at his wounded prey. “You’ve had enough?” he asked, sounding like he knew better.

  Drake didn’t answer, instead trying to put a little more distance between them while he waited to see if his leg would recover enough to hold his weight. It didn’t seem like it was going to anytime soon, so he ended up practically hopping on one leg. But he’d moved closer to Armand. He didn’t dare look, but a quick psychic scan told him he was about ten yards away. If he could get Henri to charge him again, he might be able to use the older vampire’s momentum to shove him straight into Armand’s path. Then he just had to hope that Armand had enough strength and quickness to make the kill.

  His leg throbbed and his skin burned from the abrasions, but Drake tried his best to brace himself. With his leg unable to hold his weight, he wasn’t going to have much leverage, but if the fight went on much longer, he was going to be too banged up to exert even a small amount of control. If he was going to win, it had to be now.

  Steadying himself, rehearsing in his mind what he needed to do, he crouched. This time, it was his turn to invite Henri to take a swing. Henri grinned eagerly and cracked his knuckles. Then he charged.

  Drake made no effort to duck or dodge, nor did he try to land a blow himself. He merely waited until Henri’s fist made contact with his face, then allowed himself to fall backward, his arms by his sides. As Henri came down on top of him, Drake used his good leg and both his arms to once again flip Henri over his head. The idiot shouldn’t have fallen for it twice, but he’d been too cocky, too sure Drake’s wounds would debilitate him.

  Henri grunted when he landed, and Drake rolled to see where he was. A trickle of blood obscured his vi­sion, but Drake hurriedly wiped it away.

  Henri was sitting on his ass not three feet from the Seigneur, shaking his head as if to clear the cobwebs. For a moment, Drake thought his plan had failed as the Seigneur lay motionless. Then, just as Henri was starting to rise, the Seigneur surged to his feet with a roar.

  Before anyone was able to move or react, the Seigneur grabbed Henri by the neck and jerked. Drake heard the telltale crack of breaking bone. Brigitte screamed, an ear-splitting sound that sent a spike of pain through Drake’s head. He started to rise, but then something inexplicable happened.

  Something resembling a shimmering heat wave emanated from Brigitte’s body, then expanded away from her like a ripple of water. The ripple hit Faith and her captor, and both of them were thrown several feet back. Then it hit La Vieille’s other vampire, and threw him. The ground beneath him seemed to rum­ble as the wave advanced, and Drake was too badly hurt to do anything but brace himself an hope for the best.

  It crashed into him with bone-jarring force sending him flying through the air. Then he hit the ground, his head smacking firmly into the pavement, and everything went black.

  20

  FAITH LAY ON her back, staring at the stars in the night sky. For half a second, she couldn’t remember where she was or what was happening. Then her brain seemed to pop back into place and she remem­bered. With a lurch, she dragged herself up into a sit­ting position and looked frantically around.

  Everywhere around her, bodies lay strewn on the tarmac, felled by the wave of power that had em­anated from Brigitte when Henri had died. There was no sign of Brigitte. Faith shuddered when she saw that both cars had been thrown backward by the wave. Brigitte’s lightweight sports car had flipped over, its roof crushed by the impact. Charles’s car had merely rolled backward several yards.

  Faith ached all over, but she had landed on top of her guard when they’d fallen, and he appeared to have gotten the worst of it. She could see that he was breathing, but he lay still. Barely even thinking about what she was doing, she bent down and twisted his neck until it snapped.

  Then she staggered toward Drake, who lay on his side near the cars. She knelt beside him, winc
ing to see how much skin had been scraped away by the rough tarmac, and gently turned him over onto his back. Relief flooded her when she saw his chest rise and fall. Tears dribbled down her cheek as she wiped the blood from his face with the corner of her shirt. His eyes fluttered open at her touch.

  “Are you all right?” she asked. It was a foolish question, but it was all she could think of to say at the moment. Her mind remained sluggish, overwhelmed by everything that had happened.

  He managed a strained smile. “I’m not dead.” He started to sit up, and she slipped a hand under his shoulders to help him. The effort seemed to exhaust him.

  As she waited for Drake to recover, she took another look around, reminding herself that the danger wasn’t over. She’d killed one of La Vieille’s vampires, but she didn’t see the other one. A psychic probe showed he was on the other side of Charles’s car and so far wasn’t moving.

  Armand lay on his stomach not far away, Henri’s body draped over his back. And the glaring white lights from the plane spotlighted Charles, who was curled up in a ball and moaning piteously. Faith tried to imagine walking up to him and snapping his neck as she had La Vieille’s vampire, but her stomach curdled in fear at the idea. Even in his current con­dition, he could be dangerous to someone as weak as she.

  Armand caught her attention when he rolled over and shoved Henri’s body away. Their eyes met across the short distance, and Faith realized she no longer had the faintest idea what she felt about him. He tried to stand up, but he swayed on his feet and fell back to the tarmac.

  Drake took her hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘We’ve got company,” he said, and she followed his gaze to see a pair of headlights coming straight toward them. She couldn’t seem to summon the energy to be alarmed. She shaded her eyes from the glare as the car rolled to a stop in front of them.

  The driver’s door opened, then slammed shut, and a voice she didn’t know said, “What the fuck hap­pened here?”

  Someone—not the driver—turned the lights off, and Faith looked up to see an unfamiliar vampire staring down at her and Drake. The stranger was dressed entirely in black leather decorated with sil­ver studs, and his white-blond hair stood in stiff spikes at the top of his head.