A quiet calmness fills me, but my soul screams. It seems wrong to kill anyone without a fight.
Dria releases my arm and stares into my eyes. “It is—in a perfect world. But ours is far from perfect. Remember what they told you happened to the daughter of the alphas?” I nod. “Save your mercy for children like her and do the hard task that needs to be done in her honor.”
She’s right, I know. But I never signed up for heartless, cold-blooded slaughter. I never dreamed her plan would include the quick execution of everyone responsible.
What did you think would happen? That the vampires would all promise not to abuse Weres again and everyone would be magically set free?
My own naiveté chokes me. Good God, what an idiot I am. I shake my head, trying to clear the bloody images from my mind. Worry creeps in when I realize who we haven’t freed from these upstairs rooms. “We haven’t come across Raine, yet.”
The vampire’s face takes on a faraway look. “Does she have short dark brown hair, skinny as a rail, and soulful blue eyes?”
In my mind’s eye I think of the young Were, the woman who was able to resist Cecil’s compulsion thanks to a spark between us, the dimple near her upturned mouth and the twinkle in her eyes. “Yeah, that sounds a little like Raine.”
“Well then, you’ll get your wish.” She motions down the hall. “I’m pretty sure she’s on the other side of the last door on the right.”
“How do you know that?”
She moves stealthily down the carpet toward the last room. “That’s a story for another day, wolfman.”
Dria eases to one side of the door. Her green eyes seek out mine as her body tenses. “It’s not going well in there. We need to get in there quick—it may already be too late.”
Without another word from the vamped-out killer, she kicks open the door. The second man who attacked me last week, Thomas, lies naked on his side, his body wrapped around the unmoving form of Raine.
Another rush of adrenaline floods my body, promising a wicked crash when the danger is finally past. Fire surges through me with the desire to rip and tear the leech limb from limb. Raine’s eyes are closed and her pale skin almost glows in the half-light of the bedroom.
“You’re too late,” Thomas calls from the bed. “I heard your... exterminating techniques a few minutes ago and knew my fate was sealed.”
Dria steps into the room, her eyes locked on the vamp with the bloody mouth and not the ripped out throat of Raine on the bed. My God, we might be too late. The urge to rush forward and save her compels me forward, but the strong arm of the redheaded vampire bars my passage.
“Why kill her?” Dria asks. “She did nothing to you.”
He ignores her and asks a question of his own, “I felt you in my mind, didn’t I? I’ve never felt the presence of another vampire in my awareness. You were hard to miss.”
My senses strain toward the girl on the bed. Is she truly gone or can we save her? I try and listen for her heart beat, but can’t discern anything over my own pounding pulse.
“Shh...” Dria says, and the man on the bed goes silent. There’s a frown on her face when she turns to me. “Jon, check to see if she still lives.”
I stride past the redhead, watching Thomas the whole time. Will he leap on me and rip out my throat when I approach?
Once I reach the side of the bed I place two fingers on Raine’s wrist, hoping for a response. Nothing. I lean down and rest my head on her chest, hoping, straining for some sign of life. Pain wells and grabs my heart, like it’s being crushed in my chest. She’s well and truly gone.
Anger and pain over her loss battle inside me. I want nothing more than to rip apart the vampire who did this to her, to feast on his flesh, and gorge on his blackened heart. As the muscles in my shoulders bunch and I prepare to leap, one thought holds me back. I judged Dria just moments ago, and yet I’m ready to do the same damn thing—kill and destroy an enemy who hasn’t even lifted a finger toward me. Why is it he hasn’t moved? What the hell is she doing to him? Reining in my primal urges for vengeance takes every ounce of will power and strength I gained from eating Cecil’s heart.
“Why?” I ask him, my voice harsh with the devastation of losing Raine. “You hear us coming and you still didn’t try and flee? You went after her instead.”
The vampire stares at me silently, not moving a muscle, not twitching an eye. It’s like he’s frozen.
“What he has to say doesn’t matter, Jon.” Dria says. “If she’s gone I can’t bring her back and nothing he could add would make you feel better—it will probably make you feel worse.” A hand lands on my shoulder, the touch light and reassuring. “Would you like to end him or shall I?”
Disgust coils in my gut and bile rises up my throat. I shake my head, afraid to speak and spew the hatred coiling inside me. I pull the limp form of Raine away from him, picking her up in my arms, and cover her nakedness with the bed sheet. Cradling her lifeless form to my chest, I turn and leave, letting my actions answer for me.
Halfway down the hall I hear the door close behind Dria and the distinct splatter I’ve come to recognize in the last few minutes as the quick and final death of another vampire.
Tears trickle unchecked across my face as I carry the dead woman down the stairs. Could we have saved her if we’d moved faster? Would she have lived if I hadn’t trailed her back to the mansion last week? So many conflicting thoughts fight for dominance in my mind as one foot follows another and I painstakingly make my way to the rear of the house, where we told the other Weres to gather.
The weight of her body pulls on me mentally, but not physically. Her arms lay loose, one cradled to her body and the other dangling toward the ground. With each step, the burden of carrying her draws me into a pit of despair.
I failed this woman. I thought I could help, but in the end I was no match against an enemy who outnumbered me and had advantages of strength and experience.
If it wasn’t for the more powerful vampire I’d stumbled upon, this whole pack would be dead—if not now than surely later as the years of their torment stretched on.
You did do something. You didn’t turn your back on them like Romeo and Elsa. You found someone to help.
Yeah, and at what price? Raine is dead and I’ll be serving the deadliest creature I’ve ever met. What if she gets tired of me? What if I make a wrong move? Could she dispose of me without a backward glance, like she did those vampires in the house? The noise of hushed voices reaches me as I make my way to the backyard.
A blurry glance reveals the rest of the werewolves have gathered outside. Two dirty forms huddle near the ground and several other packmates stand close to them. My guess would be the ones on the ground are the chained and drained alphas from this unlucky pack. At my slow approach, a few Weres turn in my direction.
“Raine!” The young wolf from the house, Tara, rushes to my side. “Is she...?”
The crushing weight of my failure shoves me to my knees, clasping the body of the slight werewolf to my chest as I descend. “I tried, Tara... I really tried.”
“No!” she shouts, tears cascading down her face. She reaches to take her packmate’s limp body from my arms, the sobs wracking her shoulders don’t hinder her supernatural strength to support a woman her size. I release my hold on Raine’s remains. My back bows and my head sags.
All this, for... what?
Was it worth it? You sell your soul to the devil and your potential mate lies dead?
Dria lays a hand on my shoulder. Her touch eases some of the despair coating my thoughts. “I’m no angel, that’s true.” I turn my head and stare into her glittering green eyes. “But I’m sure as hell not a soul-collecting devil, either.”
My mouth opens to refute the betraying thoughts she read, but she pats my shoulder, stopping me. “It’s okay, Jon. You’re allowed to feel pain and grieve. If you didn’t, I’d be worried about you—and the type of alpha you’d make without compassion.” Her hand grips the fabric of my shirt
and she gives a gentle tug. “Get up.” I stoically rise to my feet, wanting nothing more than the ground to open and swallow me over Raine’s loss—and my horrible failure at letting her die.
Dria’s next words whip a light of fire through me. “We’re not done yet. Wipe your tears and let’s get moving. There’s more to do, whether you’re ready for it or not.”
Chapter Fifteen
“What?” The question leaks past my shock-parched lips, quiet enough to be more of a whisper. Fear squeezes my heart as my muscles tense. “You don’t plan on...?” I trail off, afraid to voice my inner fear that she may not stop her killing spree with just the vampires.
“Worried I’ll hurt the wolves?” she asks, a twinge of annoyance on her pale as porcelain face. “Now really, Jon. What kind of help would I be if I intended to kill the wolves? Anyone with some accelerant and a lighter could’ve done that ages ago by burning this whole place to the ground.”
I turn to face her, confusion spilling out of me. “Well, then...?”
She reaches out one pale hand, cupping my cheek with a delicate touch. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save Raine.” Her eyes dart to the group of skinny huddled bodies outside of the building that held me hostage a week ago. “I plan on helping as many of the wolves as I can, trust me. I would’ve never accepted your offer otherwise.”
She drops her hand and strides to the ragged pack of Weres. I trail behind her, unsure what she’s got planned. She stops ten feet from a stooped man with matted hair and a scraggly beard, who huddles over the emaciated form of an equally dirty woman. Dria angles her head my way, her voice coming out low, for my ears only. “The night is not over, Jon. Not by a long shot. Sure, the worst of the hell is past, but we’ve got hours more ahead of us.” Her eyes flick behind us to the empty mansion. “Rafe will be here soon. We’ll be burning this place to the ground—he’ll start on getting it prepped.” She motions with her chin toward the couple. “I think those are the alphas. I need to talk with them before proceeding with the next stage of my plan.” Her serious stare drills into mine. “I need you by my side. Are you up for it?”
Resolve stiffens my spine. I may not have been able to save Raine, but I will follow through with my promise to this deadly creature.
Her eyes sharpen while she stares at me. “Well?”
“You can count on me, Dria.”
After a small nod she approaches the couple, crouching down to their level on the ground. “Are you the alphas of this pack?”
The man nods, his hand coming up to rest on his wife’s shoulder. “Yes. I’m Cliff and this is my wife, Kristin. Are you the one responsible for the end of our hell?”
A Were rushes forward with two pitchers of water and another hands a cup to each of the shrunken alphas. Dria hesitates in answering, letting the two drink their fill before continuing the conversation.
The scent drifting up from the water tells me it contains the same additives that healed me after I was drained by Cecil and his fellow addicts. I doubt one pitcher will bring these two back to anything close to resembling good health, but it’s a start in the right direction.
The sound of tires on gravel drifts to us from the side of the mansion, pulling the rag tag group of victim’s attention toward the noise. The tension spilling off a few of them has me stepping forward to reassure them. “It’s not another vampire. The new arrival is a human here to help.” I motion toward Dria. “Just like she is.”
Cliff and Kristin manage to stand after drinking the entire pitcher, the proud bearing of their former leadership shining through the dirt and grime. Kristin steps forward first, her right hand extended in gratitude toward the vampire. “Thank you.”
Dria steps back deferring the credit to me with a wave of her arm. “I never would have come if it wasn’t for Jon. He’s the one you need to thank.”
Cliff steps up next to his wife. “From what the other Weres have reported, it’s your strength and... skill, that saved us.”
Dria looks uncomfortable at the gratitude and steers the conversation in another direction. “Cliff, we need to talk about your wolves.”
The tall, thin man looks around at his tattered pack of skinny werewolves. “Yes? What about them?”
Rafe’s approach from behind draws her focus away for a moment. The couple stares intently at one another for a moment, and then Rafe nods sharply. More of that silent communication I suspect is happening between the two, I bet. I’d like to know what the hell they were discussing.
Kristin speaks up, brushing her wildly unkempt and dirty hair from her eyes. “Is there something you wanted to say…Miss…?
Dria returns her attention to the alphas. “Please, call me Dria.” She gestures toward the building behind the group, where the couple had been imprisoned for five long years. “Can we talk inside? It will be safer.”
“Safer?” Cliff asks. “What more can happen to us?”
“My husband is here to set a fire in the mansion, to wipe out every trace of the vampire remains inside. We won’t light it until the pack is gone, but I need to work with the survivors and my task will take time—and solitude.”
Cliff glances to his wife, confusion and uncertainty marring both of their faces. After a brief moment they both nod. “You’ve proven your trust so far,” he says. “We’ll hear you out.”
They turn as one, the group nearby parting to allow them passage, and the four of us make our way into the low, long building. Kristin’s shoulders shudder when she crosses the threshold, but she keeps going, head held high.
There’s a grouping of old furniture just past the entryway. We stand in the middle, all of us looking to the vampire to see what she has to say.
Dria’s voice softens, the soothing tone cascading over my skin like a balm on a burn. “Your wolves’ minds have been damaged by the extreme control Cecil held over them for so long.”
Kristin’s face crumbles and tears trickle down her face. She refuses to hide her pain and meets Dria’s stare head-on. “Are you suggesting their minds will never heal? That they will remain like this—shadows of themselves—for the rest of their lives?”
The redhead nods. “Yes. That is my fear. But, I can help them.”
“How?” Cliff asks, disbelief and weariness prominent in his voice.
“I can fix the worst of his mind meddling, but it will take me time to repair so many. Perhaps almost an hour per person.” She looks out the small window near the door, her face pinching with worry. “But…”
“Yes?”
“I won’t be able to completely erase their memories for so long of a time frame. I might be able to… conceal… the worst of the atrocities done to them—but not all of it. Not without a lot more time than we have and a plausible cover story you’d want me to insert.”
A harsh bark of sound rips from the concerned man. “Cover story? There is nothing we could contrive to explain this horrendous imprisonment.” He hangs his head in frustration. “If I could go back in time and volunteer my life to save theirs, I would, without a second thought… but we’re way past wishful thinking and have been for a very long time.”
Mistrust colors the gaze of his crying wife. “Can we trust her?” she asks, turning her imploring eyes to me, obviously uncaring of voicing her concerns in front of Dria. “Why would she help us?” She looks to Dria, her moist gaze holding a fierce resolve. “We don’t know you. Vampires have never helped our kind before.”
Dria stands and moves to the window, gazing at the lost souls standing near one another for comfort. “That’s not entirely true. Vampires have stepped in to help other supernatural species in the past.” She shrugs, as if our discussing her morality doesn’t affect her. “Unfortunately, many more of us have stepped in to abuse them as well. I don’t blame you for being wary.”
The urge to do something wells inside me, and before I have a chance to think about what I’m saying, the words tumble out. “I vouch for her.” Three heads whip around to stare at me. “She won’t h
arm your wolves, or you. I swear it on my life.”
Silence fills the small space for the span of a few heartbeats. Dria’s expression holds one of surprise while the alpha’s holds confusion.
“And why would your word matter?” Cliff asks. “This is the first time I’ve met you.”
“Because I volunteered to be her vampire servant and I can read her mind through our bond.” The lie spills out between us, Dria’s eyes narrow at my blatant fabrication. Hell, there’s no way they would know I’m not truly bonded to her yet, or what that bond may or may not share. At the couple’s shocked expression I add, “Yeah, that’s right. I volunteered my life to her—to save your pack. If you don’t trust her, trust me. I stand by my words—she holds no ill will or plans to deceive you in her thoughts.”
Cliff nods once and stands, extending his hand to me. I rise and clasp his skeletal hand in my own. “From one alpha to another. I will put my faith in you.” He glances in Dria’s direction. “And that means in her, too.”
Dria walks to the couch and takes a seat. “Good. Glad that’s cleared up. This is going to take a while.” She looks to Kristin. “Can you bring the first Were in and I’ll get started? You’re all welcome to stay and watch, as long as you’re quiet.”
The hours tick by slowly, and the sun rises while she works. To everyone’s surprise, the sun doesn’t slow her down. Dria’s pace is relentless. One after another she sits with each wolf, holding their hand in silence while she repairs the holes Cecil’s forced compulsions created. She explained that she’s slipping into their minds, the physical contact making it easier, and re-knitting the very fabric of their consciousness to make the savaged Weres whole again.
Death's Servant (The V V Inn, First Prequel Book) Page 9
