The Hunt (8 page)

Jonathan

Lori would have to be the bitch
to open the door. She never got over me leaving the pack and choosing Dria over her. Some things aren’t worth explaining—you either get it, or you don’t.

“Not now, Lori. We need to talk to the pack.”

I push past her slight form into the cabin, giving her the choice of stepping back or having me knock her over. She retreats from my path
—
wisely I might add. I’m not in the mood for her shit.

Following me in, Dria doesn’t spare the pretty wolf a glance. Without Vivian and me exchanging a word, I know she’ll let me take the lead. She’s damn smart—and we’ve danced this dance with wolves in the past.

The scent of barely cooked steak vies for dominance over the muskiness filling the cramped space. Six members from my old pack, half of whom I don’t know, loiter in the main room of the cabin. Vivian stays by the door, her presence cocooning me with a calm surety. Romeo, Elsa and two younger males I met in the van, Eric and Pat, sit at the small table finishing up their meal. Spike, the one who keeps watching me but didn’t speak much on the ride up from the airport, leans against the kitchen counter.

“What’s up, Jon?” Romeo asks.

“There’s been a murder next door.” The level of excitement in the room skyrockets at my announcement.

“What?” Elsa cries. “Already? They caught Emiko in the cabin next door?”

“Of all the shit luck,” says Pat, earning himself a swat from Elsa.

“No,” I correct. “It was the non-pack wolf. And he was drained by a vampire hunter.”

Everyone takes a moment to digest the information and Lori slinks closer to my side. Her arousal coats the air around me, even through her tight leather pants. She always was like a dog in heat, ready to go anytime I looked her way. Can’t seem to decide if she wants me or hates me. Typical, crazy werewolf-bitch.

Eric, seated next to Pat, chimes in, “How can you be so sure it was a hunter and not the rogue vamp?”

Good question. Surprised he voiced it before Romeo did.

“There’s no trace of Emiko in the cabin or outside of it. I recognize one of the hunters’ trail from a scent in the lobby.”

Female sex pheromones push out into the room, flooding my senses. A light touch skims down my jacketed back. I step forward, closer to the table and out of Lori’s reach.

“That’s enough, Lori,” Elsa’s tone sounds firm, allowing no room for debate. “We need to focus on this new development, not on ripping our clothes off.”

“I can’t stand the thought of that vampire controlling him!” Lori screeches from behind me.

Oh shit. She would have to drag Dria into this.

One glance at the vamp in question has me relaxing my shoulders, releasing a tension I didn’t know I was holding. Dria leans against the wall next to the door, examining her nails and ignoring the outburst. My heart swells with pride at the stronger woman’s show of support. She knows I can handle this, and handle it I will.

I hold up a hand to my old pack leaders, Romeo rising from his seat at Lori’s insult to their hostess. Turning to face the dark-haired beauty, I let my true dislike shine through my eyes.

“You are nothing compared to her.” A small gasp comes from young woman and her hand flies to her mouth. “And if you keep up this show of immaturity, you will be nothing for the rest of your long life.” Without realizing it, my blood pressure has risen and I’m feeling the first strains of anger. There is no way I will let the anger out in this group, so I lock it down tight. “Vivian never took my will—a fact you continually delude yourself from accepting.”

I turn to face the other five, giving her my back in a show of what I really think of her—that she is beneath me in the eyes of the pack. Spike, dressed in black, watches the exchange with interest. He gives me a nod. That is one strange dude. Smells a little funny, too. Elsa crowds near Romeo, slipping an arm around his waist. The other two, who look to be in their early twenties, remain seated at the table.

“I choose to be with the vampire. Does anyone else have a problem with that?” My anger pulses off me in waves, despite my earlier control, crackling in the air.

Romeo comes forward, hands in a placating gesture. “We never should have honored Lori’s request to join us, Jon. I’m sorry for my lapse.”

With one look, he sends the young woman bursting into tears. The desire to please the alpha is strongly ingrained; lower members of the pack will often grovel and debase themselves after angering their leader. She runs to the connecting bedroom. Eric looks to his buddy seated next to him and partially rises in his seat.

“Let her go, man,” his pack-mate says. “She’ll cool down on her own.”

“Pat’s right,” says the stinky guy in the kitchen, his voice oddly lyrical. “You go in now and you’ll just be reinforcing the bad behavior.”

The young man nods before lowering back to his chair, a haunted look in his eyes.

Ugh, the drama of it all reminds me of why I left in the first place. I can’t take this shit on a daily basis. Another glance at Dria and the anger leaves me. The desire to hold her in my arms feels almost painful. If she can rise above this pettiness then so can I. I’d rather be by her side, unable to touch her for the rest of my life, than back involved in a pack.

A smile splits my face as I reach my hand out to Romeo. “No worries.” He clasps my hand in his own, pumping it up and down. “You’re a strong leader. Someday Lori will find a man to be her match. It will just never be me.”

The wolves in the room are all controlling their pheromones now and the sexual tension dissolves. Romeo and I break off our handshake and the shorter man moves to stand by his mate. “I’m glad you’re happy here, Jon. I know the pack was never good for you.”

Romeo found me on the first full moon after I was attacked by a crazed Were in college. The days ran together after my change—they still remain dark and confusing when I try to remember them. He prevented me from doing anything rash by bringing me into his pack. When the transformation comes on you, scared and alone, it would be easy to bite someone by mistake.

“Not true. Just not right for me.” I glance around at the remaining wolves. “You seem to have taken on quite a few strays since I left.” I say the last with a smile, trying to diffuse the situation even more.

Romeo puffs with pride at the mention of the newcomers. “Eric and Pat are fitting in nicely. They’re our newest pack members.” I’m surprised he’s brought them here, but I’m sure he has a reason, one which I can’t question him on in front of the others or it would appear like I was challenging his good sense. “And Spike might be quiet most of the time, but he can hold his own in a fight pretty damn good.”

Whatever. All I know is Spike is watching me a little too closely for my comfort. If I didn’t know better, I might say he had an interest in me. Then again, I don’t know anything about the man. Awkwardness blooms inside me and Vivian turns a small laugh into a cough.

“Well? Let’s get it started now.” I say the last in my best Black Eyed Peas impersonation. My humor has the desired effect. The others look to Romeo, who nods and the excitement level rises again, but this time for a different reason.

Elsa heads in after Lori, presumably to tell her to grow up and come join in on the fun.

Not waiting for the others, I toss my coat on the couch near the door and pull off my shirt. The rustle of clothing behind me indicates the others are following my lead. I catch Spike eyeing me once more, and I push the thought out of my head before Vivain loses her aplomb and starts laughing out loud. Once my pants and shoes land on the floor the first tingle of transformation seeps into my mind and races across my skin.

The magic rushes forward and the force hunches me to the floor. Pain washes through my veins as my limbs elongate and sprout fur. In less than five seconds I’m in my wolf form; cloaked in a thick coat of hair and muscle.

It takes the others a little longer, all except for Romeo and Elsa who can change as fast as I do. I turn my golden eyes up to my master, to see the vampire staring at me.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” By the twinkle in her eye, I’m betting she means when I’m naked, and not as a wolf.

“Nope, both ways.”

Damn, is she in my head again and I don’t know it?

“How about I get the door and you all get started on the hunt?”

The cold smells clean, with only the barest hint of blood on the air. My muscles tremble in their eagerness to run. With a playful yip, I bound out the door and the six wolves barrel through to follow.

Vivian

Something doesn’t feel right in my head.
I can’t quite place what it is, but I know something is off. It’s a crappy feeling and after trying to examine it while listening to a pack of hormone-crazy wolves, I’m still no closer to discerning what it could be.

The cold wraps its steely arms around me as I head back to the main building. The baying and yipping of the wolves recedes into the darkness behind me. Ah, death is in the air. Most vampires might think that was just peachy, but I’ve had enough of it lately.

I think when this week ends, I’ll need a vacation myself. Grab Rafe, head down to our island off the southern coast of Argentina... the darkness won’t be as long, like it is in the summer when we visit, but it will be a nice escape from the current challenges of managing a seethe larger than two.

I pass through the hot tub grotto and head into the now silent dining room. The hunters should be out for a few hours before needing to refresh from the cold. The scent of blood coffee still lingers in the air and I’m grateful for the small moment of solitude.

The images in the cabin race back as I lower myself onto a leather chair near a window. Who could have killed Melvyn? The blood in the room indicates it was a violent death, but the draining of the Were’s corpse means it certainly wasn’t one of Romeo’s pack.

There! A black spot on my radar.

What the hell is going on?

I stand and close my eyes. My senses drift out and down into the very building itself. The bright, cheery atmosphere of the eating area fades away and I’m left examining a series of electrical impulses in a cloud within my mind. Something hangs over one of my seethe and brings them closer to the dangerous pit within each of the undead.

The only thing I know for certain is it can’t be Joanna. I haven’t exchanged blood with her since our first time because of the extended time I spent in her mind. I learned the hard way what playing too long in another vamp’s head can do after a blood exchange. Severing the mental connection afterward was the only way I’ve found to give them a chance to survive with their sanity intact.

The heavy feelings of despair I’m sensing seem to be coming from the direction of our suite. Heading back to the locked door near the kitchen’s walk-in refrigerator, I nod to the employee sitting behind the counter with a cookbook, whiling away the time until needed by a guest.

The lights are off in our living room and a soft glow comes from the light over the stove in the connected kitchen. The emotions I’m sensing are coming from below me now, so I know it’s got to be from the command center. Judging by the time, Asa should still be on duty.

The heavy basement door swings back easily at my touch and the scent of vampire blood spills up out of the darkness. Leaping down the stairs in one bound, the scent pounds through my head as I identify the smell of recent gunfire as well. I trigger the locking mechanism and the concrete wall in the corner slides slowly open.

Before it can fully slide to allow a normal stride, I turn sideways and squeeze myself through into the computer room beyond. Asa whirls around on his swivel chair and at the sight of me, his face crumbles into fear.

“I can explain,” he says.

“What the hell happened down here? Are you okay?”

His face smoothes out and reveals nothing. Blood stains, hastily cleaned, mar the concrete floor and walls. His clothes look clean, but his body smells unwashed. Traces of sex, cordite, silver, and blood radiate from him in a miasma of guilt.

“I shot Joanna and beheaded her.”

Did I just fucking hear that right? “Excuse me?”

“Joanna was not loyal to the seethe. She plotted to capture and drain you and tried to enlist my help.”

Shock courses through my body, only to be quickly replaced by anger.

Thought instantly becomes action, as I leap across the room and backhand the younger vampire into the control panel. The sound of glass breaking and plastic crunching doesn’t slow me down. I wrap my hands in his shirt and slam his head repeatedly into the console table until the creak of wood threatens to break under my wrath.

The blackness within creeps up to overwhelm me in my rage and my voice comes out harsh and broken. “Who gave you the right to end a life that is mine?”

Asa moves to grab my wrists in an attempt to get me to stop shaking him like a dog with a rat. His defensive touch has an aggravating effect and my fist flies repeatedly at his face, until I feel some small satisfaction in seeing it covered in red. I open my hand and deliver loud resounding smacks, splattering blood over the desk and myself.

“You fool!” Over and over I backhand the fledgling, the inner rage still unsatisfied. “What have you done?” The young vampire slumps in my hold, no longer attempting to stop me.

Warm hands grab my shoulders from behind.

“Dria! That’s enough! Get a hold of yourself!”

Rafe’s voice holds a twinge of real fear, triggering me to back slowly away from my inner abyss. I reach down, curling my hands into Asa’s bloody shirt and fling his body across the room where it hits the wall and slides to the floor.

“You should have called me, you fool! She was healing from a blood addiction and I was doing what had to be done.”

The wounds on Asa’s face have already started to heal as he pulls himself into a seated position. “She was crazy, Vivian. I swear! She tried to drain me. There was no time to call and I made a split-second decision.”

“Idiot! You could have incapacitated her instead of cutting her head off.”

Asa hangs his head, resting it on his pulled-up knees. “She was stronger than me. She couldn’t be trusted and was a threat to the seethe. I acted on the knowledge I had.” His voice comes out low and tinged with regret. “I didn’t know about her addiction. If I had, I wouldn’t have killed her.”

The betrayal burning through my gut feels like a cigarette placed against skin—white-hot and focused.

“You did not need to know about her addiction! I am the master here. Not you.”

Anger outweighs common sense and I move forward to kick him. A hand grabs my long hair, yanking my head back. I whirl around to face my calm husband, standing next to the ruins of the computer table with a fistful of copper strands.

“Not so fast, love. What’s done is done. Beating the poor boy won’t bring her back.”

“It will teach him his place!”

“Like you were beaten when you were his age? What did it teach you?”

Dammit! I hate it when he’s right. It taught me to hate and prompted me to plot their death. But it also taught me to try to keep a low profile; something killing Joanna certainly was not.

“His actions warrant punishment. I will have to report this death to the Tribunal and I don’t need more eyes on us right now.”

A groan comes from Asa. “I’m sorry. My training as a soldier kicked in and I did what I thought was right. I took out the enemy.”

“She was your seethe-mate,” I bark out, “and you had just fucked her.”

Rafe pulls in a sharp breath. “Wow, I bet that had to be interesting.”

“I’ll soon find out.” Without further ado, I push my way, none-too-gently, into Asa’s scattered thoughts. Images of destruction in Afghanistan come hurtling to the surface to obscure most of what I need to see. Within a few moments, I have an eyewitness account of all that happened here in the basement.

I release his mind with more compassion than I’m feeling. No need to damage him in my quest for truth. I would’ve liked to erase some of the Afghan memories for him, but those experiences make him who he is, so they are best left alone.

The anger and hurt coiling deep inside don’t allow me to offer him soothing words or forgiveness. He shouldn’t have chopped her head off and that’s that. The fact he drank her blood at the end only reinforces he truly did think of her as an enemy. Asa’s own perceived age in his energy aura will appear slightly older than he really is now because of consuming most of Joanna’s death blood.

It makes me wonder if that could be why he killed her. He’s been learning about our culture little by little since he arrived, having practically survived for eighteen months with almost no knowledge of the way things are done. Could he have wanted more power because Joanna and Drew were older and stronger?

Not many vampires, young or old, make numerous kills of other vampires. Unless, of course, they become enforcers. He clearly has it in him.

I turn away in disgust and storm out into the connecting basement workroom. “Clean it up! I want the blood gone, the body on ice, and the equipment replaced within the hour.”

I head up the stairs to the kitchen and pause a moment. The sanctuary of our personal suite feels tainted by the energies of all who tromp through these rooms to get to the command center and basement rooms. Once this hunt is over, I’m approving work on another entrance to the area. I need to reclaim our peaceful space and give us back the haven we created.

The smell of fresh coffee penetrates the thick fog of emotions churning within me. Hearing Rafe come up the stairs, I automatically move to pour him a cup.

I turn to give it to him and he gently takes it from my hand and puts it on the counter. Strong arms embrace me in a tight hug and some of the tension pours out of me.

“
Leibling
, he did not know.” Rafe uses the German endearment, meaning darling, while running his hand up and down my back. “Let’s get the blood off you before anything else.”

Pulling back and looking down, I see that not only is my right hand covered in the younger vampire’s blood, but splatters of it also stain my silk suit.

“Damn. That’s not going to come out, is it?”

Rafe gives me a half-smile. “I doubt it.”

Ignoring the blood for a moment, I snuggle back into my husband’s embrace. A sigh escapes me as I tighten my arms around him, carefully so as not to get my bloody hand on him.

“I had no choice but to cut her off from my blood. This has happened before. Either they get past the craving and settle in, or I have to kill them.”

“Perhaps Asa saved you the trouble?”

My head whips up. “No! It was still too early to tell. We wouldn’t have been at that point for another six months or so.”

The semi-darkness of the kitchen soothes, but my recent actions still leave me pumped and jittery.

“I need to shower. Give me a few minutes.”

Rafe nods and takes the bloody mug from the counter and pours its contents into a clean one. The man hates to waste coffee.

I shake my head at his normal behavior, which seems highlighted in this bizarre moment. Does nothing faze the man anymore? Incredible.

The water of the shower mixes with the blood to pool briefly below me before swirling down the drain. What should I do about Asa’s transgression? What the hell am I going to tell the Tribunal about it? I can’t very well tell them she was addicted to me because I controlled her mind for hours, basically making her a passenger in her own body.

I didn’t have a seethe over the centuries for various reasons. I don’t like to lead a large group—too many issues always going on in the background, too many people wanting a say. Being a solitary person doesn’t mean I don’t like the company of others. I do, or I wouldn’t be so social and run an inn. But I’ve always preferred to work alone. No other vampires to account for. No vampires to discuss things with. My way, my mistakes, and I take things as they come—with Rafe by my side, as I’d always dreamed.

I leave the shower and dry off, contemplating what to wear for the rest of the evening. Will the hunters be reporting back in to warm up soon? I check my watch. It’s only half past eleven. Hard to believe the hunt has barely been underway for two hours and we’ve had two deaths so far.

I still have to figure out what happened to Melvyn and hope the hunters aren’t killed by Emiko before the week ends. Or vice versa. I’m beginning to think this whole scheme was not such a good idea after all.

I stroll naked into the bedroom and see Rafe waiting for me. He stands up when I enter and starts to unbutton his shirt.

“What are you doing? You didn’t get blood on you. What you’re wearing looks fine.”

He slowly takes his shirt off; his eyes not leaving mine the whole time. “I’m not changing clothes. I think I know what you need to get your mind off of this.”

I’m not in the mood for sex. One of my vampires was just killed by another vampire in my care and I just beat on him for a few minutes in frustration. If I were the type that got off on violence that would be one thing, but I’m not.

“How about later, hon? I’m not feeling it.”

He ignores me and pulls off his undershirt next. The sculpted planes of his torso ripple when he tosses his clothing on a nearby chair. I think he might be flexing to entice me. Rafe starts to work on his pants next. The belt comes off in a fluid motion and my eyes follow its whip-like movements through the air.

He slowly works the button and zipper, while back-stepping out of his shoes. My attention to his every move has the usual effect on him. He’s hard and ready behind his fly, and his full magnificence comes into view once his zipper lowers. He went commando again, knowing how much it turns me on. It also helps when we want a quickie somewhere to not have him bound up by my favorite boxer briefs.

He steps out of his lowered trousers, one leg at a time, hooking his thumb in each sock and peeling it off on the way. His thighs are slightly hairy and solid in their strength. God, just looking at him is enough to make me want to forget the cares of the world and hop into bed with him.

Rafe reaches for a small paring knife I hadn’t noticed before, sitting on the round table beside him.

“What are you planning with the knife?” He’s never held one before when naked and I have to say it’s a striking image, even if the knife is small.

Without answering me, he takes his meaty cock in his other hand, holding it to one side, while placing the knife at the base of his erection. Before I have a chance to realize what he’s doing, he nicks himself in a shallow one-inch slit and the delicious aroma of my lover’s blood fills the air.