Death's Servant (The V V Inn, First Prequel Book)

by C. J. Ellisson

  When he’s gone, her bright green gaze lingers on every bloodsucker in the room, like she’s trying to place their identity or memorizing their appearance for a later purpose. There’s a calmness emanating from her that feels down right spooky. I wish we had talked about more of an actual plan than “follow my lead” before we got here.

  Who am I kidding? I’m basically at her mercy however you cut it.

  Wow. Talk about humbling.

  A chill races up my spine and this time it has nothing to do with my impotent feelings of rage at my fellow Were’s treatment. Who should be able to wield such power over others? Isn’t there an old saying that absolute power corrupts absolutely?

  Dria kneels by my side, a deadly smile on her face, and whispers in my ear. “There’s always someone more powerful who can knock you off your perch—even if you’re me. Never forget it and you don’t have to worry about corruption. You’ll be too afraid watching your own back.”

  Turning her private tete ala tete with me into a show of something else, she says in a louder voice, “Which one do you think I should pick, my dear? They all look a little… tired.”

  Before I decide what she expects me to do at her question, she stands, dismissing me as if we never spoke.

  Tara senses the difference in Dria’s appraising stare around the room and says, “We have one or two that might appeal to you better. You could talk to Cecil and arrange something.”

  A huge smile spreads across the redhead’s features. “Meet Cecil? Why thank you, Tara. What a wonderful idea.”

  Tension slips from the blond Were, pleased she did something right in the growing tension. She leads us out of the room toward the back of the building. The disturbing sounds of a nearby feeding vampire and forced pleasure from a donor chase us down the hall, tightening my gut and fueling me with the urge to rip and maim.

  Dria’s hand fists in my fur again, and then softens, smoothing the raised hackles I can’t control in my distress. Tara meanders down a long hall and stops in front of a shut door. She raps once and waits.

  “Yes?” a male voice calls from within.

  “I’ve got a new visitor who would like to speak with you about selecting donors not in the lounge tonight.”

  “Come in.”

  Tara opens the door and steps back, her body language projecting she’s eager to avoid being in the room with either party, if she can.

  Dria steps through the doorway with her head held high, her mane of lush copper waves spilling down her back. A large desk occupies one end of the room, with a small sitting area in front of it. The vampire who chased me into the night a week ago stands behind the desk, a fake smile plastered on his face. He steps around the desk and motions with one arm for us to sit in one of the chairs.

  “Welcome. Please, take a seat.”

  My shoulder brushes up against her thigh as Dria walks to a high-backed chair and sits.

  “My name is Cecil and I’m the owner of the V V Inn.” He settles across from Dria, crossing his legs. “Tara mentioned our current selection tonight didn’t spark your interest.” He glances at me with a flick of dismissal. “Surely, if your servant isn’t enough to satisfy your need, you’d be content with whomever was willing, no?”

  A coldness enters Dria tone. “That would assume your donors were willing, wouldn’t it?”

  Cecil sits straighter in his seat. “I resent your implication. Our donors are willing. Ask them.”

  Her calculating gaze narrows on the larger man, not a trace of fear or doubt evident in her. “We all know how easily agreement can be coerced, don’t we?” Dria scoots to the edge of her seat and extends her hand to the flustered vampire. “Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Alexandria McAndrews.”

  Her hand hangs in the air as Cecil’s mouth gapes and his pale skin whitens. “No… You can’t be…” He shuts his mouth and shrinks into his chair. “What are you doing here?”

  A vicious look of satisfaction crosses Dria’s face before she speaks. “Ah, I see you recognize the name, do you not?”

  “Are you the one they called ‘Alexandria the Great’?”

  Dria rises from her chair to stand over Cecil. “That depends on who you ask. By ‘they’, I take it you mean the Tribunal?” Cecil nods, his eyes tracking Dria’s every minuscule movement. She looks around his office, then brings her eyes back to his flinching features. “Interesting set up you’ve got here. I wonder what they would think of it.” She begins to pace in her agitation, back and forth in front of the tense vampire.

  “I’m not breaking any laws,” Cecil says, forced bravado coloring his tone. I can smell the stink of fear coming off him in waves. This is getting interesting. Why would her name and reputation scare him so much?

  Dria whips around and points an accusing finger his way. “You are doing something far worse. You have imprisoned these wolves and manipulated their minds to do your bidding. You pimp them out in an old-style blood brothel and think no one will notice?” Her hand drops to her side as her chest heaves in anger. “You think hiding behind a technicality that the laws weren’t written to include werewolves would save you?”

  “Blood brothel? This is no such thing. The V V Inn has been around for over a century, perhaps you never heard of it? We’re operating like we always have.”

  “Bullshit!” The tiny vampire cries and leaps across the space between them, toppling the chair backward and pinning the terrified vampire to the floor. “I run the only V V Inn, you disgrace of a vampire.” Cecil’s face collapses in horror. “Perhaps you should have done your research better, asshole.”

  Without warning Dria plunges her hand straight into his chest and tears out the vampire’s bloody heart. A scream starts from Cecil but abruptly cuts off when his heart leaves his body. Dria tosses the organ over her shoulder and pulls up her skirt. She extracts a hunting knife strapped to her inner thigh.

  My stomach revolts at the horror before me and I swallow bile, hoping I don’t hurl. In a smooth practiced move, Dria severs Cecil’s head from his body and lays it a few feet from his body. Removing the heart first prevented any arterial spray, but her right hand is coated with red all the way up her forearm.

  I may be a werewolf, but I’ve never killed a vampire, or anyone else for that matter— animals I’ve hunted while a wolf don’t count as murder in my eyes.

  Holy shit. Just exactly what have I gotten myself into with this woman?

  She calmly wipes her blade and sullied hand on the dead vampire’s suit jacket before glancing my way. “Well, crap. I hadn’t intended to kill the bastard so quickly tonight. That was until I heard what he called this place—then all my best intentions went out the window.” She sighs once, the sound tired and bone weary, striding toward the desk.

  Dria picks up the phone, while I stare at the wet, sloppy heart at my feet, and dials a number. In a moment whomever she’s calling picks up. “Rafe honey, I’m going to need you here after all. We’ve got quite a mess to clean up.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dria hangs up the phone and focuses her keen gaze on me. “Well, Jon, do you have the courage to eat the heart of your enemy or do you plan on staring at it for a while?”

  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. She wants me to eat his freakin’ heart?

  “Yes, Jon. That’s exactly what I want you to do. When you kill a vamp you have an opportunity to ingest some of his or her power. Eating his heart will be the best route for a werewolf. As a vampire, I’d drink his blood—drain him dry if I were looking for the power boost.” Her nose curls up in disgust. “Which I’m not. This bastard smells ripe with all kinds of crazy and addiction. I’ll never be that hungry again, thank you very much.”

  The fresh blood from the recent kill fills my head, as the disgusting suggestion to devour his heart twists my gut. In wolf form I’ve eaten an animal’s internal organs without a second’s pause. Why does the thought of complying with her suggestion leave me disgusted?

  Maybe because the bastard w
as human at one point? After all, you’d never eat a wolf, would you?

  “That would depend on how hungry you were.” Her cold eyes offer no reassurances. “You may not ever be that hungry, Jon. It’s a different time we live in than just one hundred years ago.” Her stare hardens and her mouth thins into a firm line. “Do it. Now.”

  I lower my muzzle to the warm organ. The smell of blood and slaughtered flesh fills my head and constricts my throat.

  “Don’t let the thoughts linger in your mind and take hold. This is not a life or death decision. This is an alpha protecting those weaker than him—growing stronger to keep doing so.”

  I close my eyes, clamp my nostrils closed, and gulp down the heart in one bite, not bothering to chew. The slick mass slides to my stomach, sitting like a hard weight in my middle.

  I open my eyes to see her watching me, perhaps wondering if I’ll puke it up and make an ass out of myself.

  “Good. The power surge will hit you as it digests. Gross, I know, but one day you’ll thank me for it.”

  Somehow I seriously doubt that, but I keep my thoughts locked down tight, trying to avoid what she called my projecting.

  Her head tilts to the side as her stare intensifies. “Good. You’re getting better at calming your thoughts.” She walks to my side and kneels. “We’re going to have a rough couple of hours ahead of us, are you going to be able to handle it? Before you agree, let me tell you what’s going to happen.” Her hand reaches out and stokes my fur. “I can’t ‘cure’ a vampire of their addiction.” Her gaze drifts to the wall as her rhythmic petting soothes my jittery stomach. “There is a way I could alter their thoughts… but it won’t change their long term addiction in the end. This means the worst cases will have to die—here, tonight.”

  She stands, her comforting touch vanishes, leaving me with a feeling of coldness in its absence.

  “It won’t be pretty. It may haunt your nightmares for years. But there is no other choice.” She pats me once on the head. “I won’t think less of you if you need to go to the car.”

  A low growl rumbles in my throat. I will not be hightailing it out of here because things turn difficult. I knew going in this wasn’t going to be easy. If I’m honest with myself, there was really no other way to end the evil that resides in this house. But if I’d known I was going to have to eat a heart I might have balked at joining her.

  Dria’s lip turns up at the end. “Okay, wolfman, you made your decision. If you change your mind later I won’t hold it against you. Cold-blooded killing isn’t for everyone, but I promise to make things quick.”

  Her delicate nose wrinkles as she glances back at the headless corpse. “Dammit. I will have to take a sip from him to ensure the killing is done swiftly.” Showing none of the hesitation or inner turmoil I faced a few moments ago, she daintily leans over the body and dips two fingers in the pooling blood. She pops the stained digits into her mouth and licks them clean, her face twisting at the tainted taste.

  “Ugh. I’ve definitely tasted better, that’s for sure.”

  Dria rises and sits again on the vacant chair. She closes her eyes and in a moment her face appears relaxed and serene. After a few heart beats, she opens her eyes, catching me staring at her.

  “His blood is in all the wolves here. Their blood is in all of the visiting vampires. It couldn’t have been more perfect for what I need to do. I can twist the connection to suit my plans without ever having met the addicts.” She glances at her watch. “Come, let’s get this over with. Rafe will be here soon and I’d rather have this part behind us when he arrives.”

  She opens the office door, revealing a shocked Tara huddled in the hallway. “Something is different,” she says, the fear leaving her voice as she ventures to stand. “My mind is starting to clear.”

  Dria nods. “Yes. The nightmare is over for your pack. Go to where Cecil imprisoned your alphas and free them. Give them the drink that restores their blood and strength.” Tara nods, her eyes as big as saucers. “How many ‘guests’ came to the house tonight?”

  “Five.”

  “Good. Gather every wolf you encounter to the large building out back. We’ll be there when we can.”

  “What about the wolves upstairs already with vampires?”

  Dria reaches out a hand and places it on Tara’s arm. Instantly the woman quiets. “Don’t you worry. I’ll get them out.”

  Tara scurries toward the back of the house. Dria watches her leave and strides toward the front entrance. Her high heels ring out across the wood with each step. In a moment we’re in the main foyer, facing the first room Tara showed us. The lounge contains one vampire mingling with three wolves. Wolves that look like they are waking from a long sleep.

  “Jon, take them outside and return to me.”

  The Weres look to me, and I swing my head to the front door. Without a word they move as one to the exit. The man sitting in the room is the one Cecil called Nathaniel last week, the one who tasted Raine against her will while the others watched.

  Curiously, he doesn’t move and doesn’t speak as I herd the Weres outside. I pause on the threshold, the retreating Weres safely in front of me, and glance back to see what Dria will do.

  “Close your eyes, Jon.”

  Before I have a chance to process the request, and decide to follow her command or ignore it, Nathaniel’s head explodes, showering the room in blood and bits of gore. Horror and shock roll through me as I stare at the redheaded vampire.

  Oh my God. What is this woman I’ve pledged myself to? Is she simply a vampire or something more? What is this unleashed power Dria wields?

  “I told you not to look.” She turns to face me. A calm detachment on her face. “Four more to go. Why don’t you go grab your clothes from the car and assist me as a man? It will be easier for you to help the Weres upstairs.”

  Without giving her a gesture of understanding, I race out the door, feeling as if the hounds of hell were on my heels. I never imagined a vampire could do such a thing to another of its kind and wonder why no one has mentioned it. Granted, we didn’t talk about vampires a lot in Manitoba, but surely if all of them could kill like that there’d be fewer vampires in the world, right?

  The heat of the night warps around me as I crouch next to the rented car. The hushed crying and whispers of the wolves standing in the gravel drive reach me, pulling me out of my thoughts to the here and now.

  I reach for the physical change, picturing my human form in my mind. Flesh dissolves around me as the bones and muscles re-knit so fast in a wash of energy that I’m returned to man in the blink of an eye.

  I rise from the gravel and open the back door, withdrawing the bag and grabbing my clothes with a speed I’ve never possessed. I slide the T-shirt over my head, then pull on jeans, apprehensive to face not only what waits for me inside the blood brothel, but to come to grips with exactly how I’m managing to move and change form as fast as I am.

  It’s the vampire heart, you twit. Guess you’re digesting it faster than you’d bargained for.

  My stomach clenches at the thought, the urge to hurl and dispel the vampire heart raging through my system.

  “Who are you and what’s going on?”

  I turn and see the three wolves from inside, huddled next to each other a dozen feet away.

  “I’m friends with Raine and came to help.” Firming my resolve as I quiet my gut and return to the house. “Go care for your alphas. It will all be over soon.”

  I march up the steps, the picture of the exploding vampire head front and center in my thoughts. Will she kill them all the same way? Without even a fight? Is there honor in a battle that isn’t fought but obliterated like a nuclear bomb?

  Our government didn’t stand and debate for years when they dropped the bomb on Japan, now did they? The only choice is usually the hardest to make.

  Dria waits for me in the foyer, her head angled toward the stairs and what awaits us above. “Next time I tell you to close your eyes, listen.” />
  I move to stand before her, meeting her green gaze without flinching. “If you can handle it, then so can I.”

  A sad smile curves her mouth. “You never forget your first massacre.” Compassion spikes in her eyes for an instant before vanishing. “It will haunt you forever. I would have liked to spare you the pain.”

  “Being an alpha means I don’t get to wear blinders when times are tough, right?”

  “Yes, Jon.”

  “Well then, it’s about time I face the world with my eyes wide open.”

  She nods and places a foot on the first stair. “There will be days you regret this decision. But, I understand.” Dria looks over her shoulder and there’s a sadness on her face. “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next five minutes shake the very foundation of my sanity. At each occupied bedroom we encounter, Dria has me usher the victimized Were out the door and down the hall, while the previously feasting vampire sits utterly still. Once the Were passes, she closes the door, leaving it slightly ajar, and stands in the hall while the wet splatter of the addicted vampire’s head explodes in the room beyond.

  It would all seem surreal and out of a movie if I wasn’t smelling the gore and seeing the blood on the red stained walls when a door happens to swing open. By the third one the gorge in my stomach tries to force its way up my throat. I can’t do this. I can’t sit by and watch this mindless killing.

  Dria’s cooler hand rests on my arm as we travel toward the last room in the hall. “Steady, Jon. You can do this. Only one more to handle.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘slaughter’?” I try and pull my arm out of her grasp, but she holds firm. “For God’s sake, you’re not even giving them a chance to fight.”

  She leans in, her voice whispering near my ear. “Like they did to the wolves, Jon? These vampires captured their minds and held them captive while they raped and used them for their own twisted needs.” Her breath tickles my neck and I shudder, torn between loathing and vengeance. “Revenge is never pretty and often leaves you empty. Focus on the lives we’re saving and you’ll get through this.”