My nerves get the best of me, driving me to pace in their small hotel room while they stare daggers at one another. It’s almost nine and we should be getting on the road. Dria clears her throat, drawing my attention to her expression, one reddish eyebrow raised in expectation.
The young-looking vampire holds a knife over her wrist and my stomach clenches over the next stage of her plan. “I don’t understand this part. Why do I need to drink your blood?”
“You’ve met this bastard, right?” she asks. I nod, still unsure of how her blood will change that simple fact. “Got right up and personal with him—and he and his cronies drank from you?”
“Yeah, so?”
“He’ll recognize your scent, even in wolf form.”
My blood freezes as a thought occurs to me. “Could he ‘call’ me to him against my will or anything like that?” I heard about that once from the Weres in Canada.
“Don’t you think if he could, he would’ve by now? You did say he went after you at your apartment, right?”
Chagrinned at the obvious answer, my panic dulls a little. “Okay, good point. I don’t know for sure if he went to my apartment, Raine just stressed that he had gone after escaped wolves before. How will your blood help?”
“Once you drink a few sips, you are marked as mine. The essence of my blood mixes with yours, slightly changing the underlying blood scent—not a lot, but enough to mask you from him in your animal form. He won’t be looking too closely for danger in a visiting vampire’s kept werewolf.”
“Is my drinking of your blood what will make me your servant?”
“No. If I fed on you repeatedly or once very deeply and allowed you to have my blood it would bind us, making you my servant, but even then the bond must be renewed monthly to stay strong. Casual blood donation within a seethe would make you one of the seethe’s companions, not my servant.”
“Seethe?”
She smiles. “Forgive me, a ‘seethe’ is a vampire family.”
I nod, only slightly freaked out by the whole concept.
“It’s okay, Jon. I realize this is all new terminology for you. A companion is under the protection of the seethe even if they aren’t blood-bonded to any vampire in particular. Anyone else a vampire feeds from is classified as a donor, and has no protection.”
Rafe chimes in, “There is an exception, a way around the rules, if you will. If a person is blood marked, like Dria plans to do with you, they are considered off limits, even if they aren’t technically a servant in your seethe.”
This crap is getting confusing. “So I can be blood marked and not a companion or a servant?”
“Yes, the difference is who feeds from you—a companion can donate to everyone in the seethe. A servant is a private bond, continually strengthened with exclusivity over time, no other vamp can touch the person under penalty of death.”
“Why is it important I understand all of this now? How does it relate to me taking your blood?”
Rafe looks to his wife and then me. “It has more to do with you understanding what you are getting yourself into.”
“Does it really matter what we tell him?” Dria asks, discomfort clear in her voice. “Once I bite him it won’t make a difference, will it?”
Rafe nods, not as affected as she is by the weight of what’s bothering her.
“Why won’t it make a difference?” I ask.
She stalks to me, death and beauty in a scary package. “Because when I bite you, you will lose your free will. The only thing you’ll care about is what I want. Do you understand?”
It sounds like she’s trying to talk me out of this. Like she isn’t willing to hold up her end of the bargain because of the moral ramifications of possibly removing my freedom of choice.
“But I’m agreeing to it. That means I am accepting the consequences.” In a show of good faith I take her hand holding the knife and lay it against her opposite wrist. “If this is what I need to do to hide from Cecil and help you take him down, then I’ll do it. I trust you.”
A sad smirk tilts up one corner of her full lips. “You shouldn’t.” She slices her wrist over a glass and bleeds into the red wine it contains. An ounce or so dribbles in before her cut heals before my eyes. “I’m a monster.”
I reach for the glass. Staring at her guarded expression, I drink the blood mixed with wine. It coats my throat with a lingering taste of salt and copper pennies. “I may not have seen a lot of evil in my life.” Strength seeps through my body, surprising me with its powerful jolt. “But there is no doubt in my mind I saw true evil in what Cecil is doing to those wolves. From what I’ve seen of you so far,” I say with a saucy grin, “you’re the lesser of two evils.”
Dria’s head lowers and she looks away. “Appearances are deceiving.”
Heat sings through my veins and I feel like I could pick up a bus without straining. “Holy shit. Your blood packs a real wallop.”
A sad smile ghosts across her face. “I know. Be careful while you adjust to it. And before you ask—yes, vampire blood can be addicting to the right type of person, too.” Her eyes harden. “And there was a time when vampires were hunted and drained for it.”
She goes from lighthearted and fun to scary and distant much too quickly for my tastes. I look to her husband, who only has eyes for her, watching her every moment with an intensity I’ve never seen among the over-sexed wolves.
Without another word, she heads into the bathroom to change into her evening gown. When devising this plan, I’d explained the formal dress I witnessed the vampires wearing in the dining room, and every other detail I could remember. Dria said it reminded her of an old European blood brothel she’d been to centuries ago. She knew exactly how she should dress to be accepted, and even assured me a pet werewolf would fit right in with the perceived decadence.
“Get ready, wolfman,” Rafe says. “We don’t want you struggling to shift in the back of the rented Benz.”
Wolfman, eh? Is that how he wants to play this? Cheeky bastard. Bet I could take his big muscle-bound ass in a heartbeat. Then again, that could be the vamp blood talking. He’s got something lurking in his eyes when you look closely, and strangely, it reminds me of staring into the eyes of a live wolf. I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and retreat to the second bedroom.
I leave the door slightly ajar so I can open it in wolf form—only takes locking yourself in a room two or three times, and the subsequent replacing of the door with a new one later, to drive the habit into your brain. I attach the expensive studded collar to my neck, leaving the clasp on the last notch so the leather won’t be too stifling. A collar. Jesus. Is this what I’ve come to?
Yup. And you asked for it buddy. Might as well quit your bitching and take it like a man.
I strip, putting the clothes in a bag so we can stow it in the back seat when I revert back to human at our departure. Once my tiny tasks are completed, I take a deep breath, centering myself.
The vampire blood coursing through my body feels exhilarating and I have a hunch the change will come on me faster than normal. The mere thought of running free in the woods calls my wolf to the surface with lightening speed. In the span of two heartbeats I’m forced to the floor, and fur washes over my altered shape. For the first time since I was attacked last year, there is no agony in the transformation. None at all.
I give my head a shake and marvel at the joy that washes through me at the lack of pain. A small yip of happiness erupts and I duck my head, embarrassed by the outburst. I wait a little bit, hoping Rafe and Dria didn’t hear me, and then use my mouth to grab the handles of the duffle containing my clothes.
I trot into the main living area of the hotel suite, bag in mouth, to see Rafe pacing the floor. He turns to me with a stern look, raises one eyebrow and says, “You’ll do.” He glances over his shoulder, toward the room Dria is changing in, and then back to me. “Make sure she comes back okay or I’ll go in and kill the whole lot of you, vamps and Weres alike.” His eyes darken as he
takes a step toward me. “Fire will wipe out this problem just as easily.”
I drop the bag and my hackles rise. A low growl starts in my throat. What the hell? I thought this big bastard was on my side.
“Finding my attitude contradictory, are you?” The tall man shrugs. “First and foremost, I care only about the safety of my wife. Sure, I was the one who helped talk her into helping you, but I’ll never forgive myself if you two are walking into something dangerous and I’m stuck back here, twiddling my damn thumbs.”
Dria takes that moment to make her entrance, sweeping out of the adjoining room like a debutant entering her first ball. The black gown she’s wearing hugs her ample curves, showcasing what nature gave her to its absolute best.
“Now, now, darling. Have faith in me.” The smile on her mouth is coy and relaxed. “The day I can’t handle a few misguided vampires is the day I give up to the sun for good.”
She strolls across the room, attention focused on her husband. “Will you promise to remain behind?”
“Only if you promise to keep our connection open, no matter what. If you shut me out I’ll snag Jon’s jeep and be out there in ten minutes.”
She stands on her tip toes and kisses his mouth with tenderness and possession. “Yes, dear.”
Rafe doesn’t look appeased, and stands with his arms crossed over his chest. “Every single second, Dria. Don’t test me.”
She nods in his direction, then motions with her head toward the door. “Let’s go, Jon.” She grabs a small purse off the table, and jangles the keys in one hand. “Grab your bag, too.”
I scoop up the duffle in my jaws and trot after her disappearing form.
“Don’t forget what I said, furball. Watch out for her or I’ll kill you all.”
I follow Dria to the sleek black Mercedes they rented. She opens the back door for me to jump in. I angle my head at her to convey my disapproval over her suggestion, but jump inside when she clears her throat.
The back seat? Does she really think I’m going to sit here the whole trip? I drop the bag in the back, wait ’til she settles in the front, and then jump to the vacant passenger seat.
“Oh, all right. You can sit in the front.” Her tone is light, like all of this is one big game. “But don’t mess up the upholstery, this is a rental.”
Damn, this is weird. Maybe I should have changed into a wolf when we got there. I’m not used to interacting with people while in wolf form.
The stunning vampire next to me reaches out a hand and ruffles the fur at my neck. “Don’t you worry, we’ll be fine.” She smiles into the growing darkness while driving. “Until you learn to shield better, I don’t even have to try and pick up your thoughts. It’s like they are written in red neon over your head.”
I snort loudly, dipping my head toward the dash. Does that mean the other vampires can read my thoughts, too?
“Good job! That was a deliberate projection on your part, wasn’t it? The words came through loud and clear. If you want to tone down your internal musings so I can’t pick them up so easily you’d do much better around the other vamps. So—shall we talk about what’s going to go down when we get there?”
I concentrate on my agreement as “loudly” as I can, Yes.
“I’ve been to many blood brothels in the past. They haven’t been common for over a hundred years, so that tells me the guy running this setup is at least one hundred years undead. Not sure what prompted him to try something that’s been outlawed for so long. Maybe he thinks no one will find him here in Virginia.” She shakes her head. “Fool. He’s calling way too much attention to himself.”
She turns onto the highway and begins the short trip to Cecil’s mansion. “First off, we’re strolling right up like we own the place and deserve to be there. If I recognize anyone things will move faster than I’d like, meaning I will have to strike to end this mess and get out of there quickly. But if no one knows who I am, we should be good to mingle for a little bit and get a feel where all the wolves are so we can free them.”
Knows who you are?
“Yup. You, my dear sweet wolfman, sniffed out yourself an ex-enforcer.” At my lack of comment she continues. “I used to dole out justice for the Tribunal of Ancients, the vampire race’s governing body. Usually they’d send someone like me after a rogue vamp—a vampire who kills indiscriminately or puts our species in danger with his or her actions.”
And your husband is worried you might not come back?
“No, not really. He gets like that whenever he’s not by my side during a fight. Can’t blame him, I’d probably react the same way.” She glances at me sideways and then returns hers eyes to the road to take the next turn. “You do realize I’m going to have to kill Cecil tonight, right? There’s no way to cure someone this far gone.”
As long as we can save the wolves I don’t care how many vampires have to die.
“Present company excluded, of course, right?” She doesn’t even look at me on that one. “We’re not all as bad as he is, you know. Humans would hunt vampires down and kill us, like they almost did during the Spanish Inquisition. Poor witches got all the blame, but a lot of supernatural species were under fire during that crazy time.”
We turn down back roads, slowing our pace to follow the speed limit. “Now, what I’ll do with the visiting vampires who have called on Cecil while we’re there... that I haven’t decided yet.” The look on her face becomes distant. “Kill them all or alter their minds? I’ll have to see when I get there.”
The casual tone she uses to announce the imminent demise of her own kind chills me to the bone. Wolves kill to eat or defend their pack and den, not simply because it needs to be done. How do I feel about aligning myself with a cold blooded killer?
“Did I seem so cold blooded when you spied on me making love to my husband?” Quiet fills the space between us. “Or when I saved that child from falling into the wading pool? You know, when you thought I was going to eat the toddler?” I duck my head and glance out the window.
“I may not be a mindless beast, but I never walk away from what needs to be done—no matter how heartless I must become to finish the job.”
We travel in silence a few more minutes, apprehension filling my gut. What have I done by agreeing to serve this woman? Have I stepped into more than I can handle?
“I’ll need you to follow my lead when we get there. Act meek and subservient, don’t make eye contact with Cecil or the other vampires. Can you do that?”
Yes.
We pull into the gravel drive, the apprehension from before swirling into a larger mass of fear. If we can’t save these wolves tonight I don’t know what else to do.
The large house comes into view, every window lit up like a huge party is taking place. Six other cars line the circular drive in front of the house.
Dria parks the car and leans toward me, lowering her voice. “We’ll walk away from this fine, don’t you worry.” Surprisingly, she has no problem smiling while I sit here worried I’m going to puke. “You wondered who you agreed to serve?” The cold look I saw returns. “I am death. And no one escapes death.”
Chapter Twelve
Dria exits the vehicle, holding open the door for me to jump out. She wraps one delicate hand around the studded collar and whispers, “Don’t leave my side tonight. It’s the only way I can ensure your safety.”
I nod once, conveying I understand. Will I be able to hold back if I see Raine in danger?
“If you don’t, you run the risk of ruining the whole plan.” She gives my collar a jerk and then releases. “Think on that long and hard, numb nuts. Those alpha tendencies can get in the way and destroy the whole pack if you’re not careful. Don’t make me regret agreeing to help.”
We walk to the front door and Dria rings the bell. A young blond woman, skinny to the point of looking anorexic, answers the door, a bright, forced smile on her face.
“Welcome to the V V Inn. Please, come in.”
Dria’s back stiff
ens at the woman’s words. The hand resting on my back fists in the fur. “Interesting name. May I ask where it came from?”
The skinny blonde shrugs, the smile on her face faltering. “I’m not sure. Cecil, the owner, said it means something to the vampire community.” The young werewolf locks eyes with me, trying to convey something—what I’m not sure. Maybe it’s simply a warning from one Were to another to get out while I can.
“Yes,” Dria says with a strained smile. “I’ve heard of it before. Hadn’t realized there was a...branch here in Virginia.”
“I take it this is your first time here?”
Dria nods her head regally. “Yes, it is.”
“My name is Tara, I can show you around.”
Tara leads us into the large foyer with two formal rooms branching off both sides. Midway into the house an elaborate staircase winds upward, and further back, a hall leads to more rooms.
Tara waves to the right with her toothpick arm. “Inside you’ll find the parlor, where guests mingle with the available Weres, selecting a partner if one has not been prearranged.” Dria nods and steps forward to glance about the room. Sticking close to her side as instructed, I follow, and see more than I’d bargained for.
Several slim werewolves lounge on heavy leather furniture, their gazes empty and unfocused. How much of their minds have been ruined by the constant control Cecil exerts on them? Can they heal from such damage and live a normal life?
Rage boils under my skin and I start to shake, minimally at first with the shudders gradually increasing as I try and hold still. The alpha in me calls for revenge, and a red haze of violence colors my vision, urging me to leap and tear out the throats of the nearby vampires ogling the emaciated wolves.
The studded collar around my neck is painfully jerked by Dria, the hard edge of the stitched leather digging into my airway. I glance up at her to see she’s eyeing the vampires in the room, ignoring me completely, but obviously aware of my distress.
One vampire selects a slender man in his early twenties. He picks up the delicate leash dangling from the Were’s navy blue collar and leads the unresisting Were out of the room toward the stairs. He ignores us in passing, but Dria studies him carefully as they exit.
Death's Servant (The V V Inn, First Prequel Book) Page 7
