de Sang: Embrace Your Blood Lust (16 page)

His teeth pierced her neck then, the pain overwhelming. As blood spilled from the wound and his mouth captured it, Kate's head swooned. She would have gladly surrendered to the darkness threatening to overtake her, but she was afraid if she closed her eyes, they would never reopen.

It felt like hours before he finally lifted his mouth from her neck. Blood, her blood, covered his lips and stained his teeth. His head dropped back and his eyes rolled back in their sockets as the most satiated expression she'd ever witnessed on a person spread over his face. It was an expression she only wanted to see on a lover's face, on Slade's face, not this psychopath.

With a smile, his eyes slowly opened and settled on hers. At this point, she could barely keep them open. "Are you ready for your treat?"

She tried to shake her head, but the muscles were slow to respond, and her head rolled weakly from one side to the other. She watched in horror as Lohr held out his arm and sliced into the fleshy part of his wrist with the same bloody blade he'd been using on her, and Kate could only assume, Melanie as well. Forcing her mouth open with the other hand, he lowered his wrist to her mouth.

Blood immediately filled it: metallic and tangy. She tried to close her throat off from it, would have spit it out or jerked away if she had the strength. But she barely had the energy to breathe, let alone fight.

As the fluid pooled in her mouth, she felt like she was drowning. If she didn't swallow soon, she just might.

"That's it. Swallow it. Savor it." She coughed, writhing as much as her depleted body could manage. Lohr increased his grip on her jaw. "Take it!" he demanded.

A sob heaved her stomach at the same time her throat finally consented. There was so much blood in her mouth, she gagged on it, but her body's reflexes kicked in and eased the liquid down her throat. Her mind reeled in horror. She couldn't take any more, she couldn't stand to be in this skin, on this bed, with Lohr dripping his fluids into her.

She disappeared into a better memory. Slade's handsome Italian features flashed in her mind, his boyish grin contrasting with the sinister look his red contacts gave him. She let the memory of his impossibly strong body, and the feel of his hard, smooth muscles against her remind her this horror was only temporary.

Chapter Fourteen

"We have to go. Now."

"Of course," Armand said. "We'll take my car."

Slade felt sick and it wasn't just from his Craving. He didn't think his shakes could possibly get worse, or his nausea stronger, but thinking of that sick fuck Lohr trying to "turn" Kate shoved them into overdrive.

It was Julia who noticed something was wrong. As Slade rushed past her toward the back door, she stopped him. "Are you all right? You aren't looking well."

He was ready to dismiss her, but unfortunately, the statement caught Armand's attention. He looked over Slade critically. "She's right. You look like shit."

"No sleep," Slade said quickly, hoping it was enough explanation. "Let's go."

Armand didn't budge. "When was the last time you Fed?"

Slade hated that term; it made him feel like cannibal. He shook his head. "I'm cool."

"No, you aren't. When?"

"Two days ago. So, like I said, I'm cool."

"Like hell you are. You're shaking like a damn Chihuahua and there isn't an ounce of color on your face."

Slade wished he could turn off the vibrate button to his hands. It was creeping up his arms now as well. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine. Let's go!"

"You can't go in this condition." The concern in Julia's voice was overwhelming. He couldn't deal with it right now. Getting Kate away from Lohr was the only thing that mattered. "If it's blood you need, I'm happy to help."

Slade felt every muscle in his face turn to stone. "Absolutely not." The words barely escaped from his clenched jaw.

"It'll only take a second. It's no big deal. Armand can draw a couple vials…"

"Fuck. No."

"Don't be stubborn," Armand said. "I don't mind."

Beyond frustrated, Slade rubbed his hand across his eyes. "I said no, and that's what I meant. I'm not drinking your wife's blood! Look, whatever's fucking wrong with me is either in my head or
maybe
, it's because the woman I love is with Lohr Fucking Varius, Creep Extraordinaire!"

Armand nodded, the understanding finally registering on his face. "We'll get her." He turned to Julia. "If you don't hear from me in twenty minutes, call the police."

She nodded, but her expression was stricken. "Be careful."

"Of course." He bent to kiss her and Slade thought he would explode.

"Jesus! Please, can we go?" he begged.

Armand let his eyes linger on Julia for the longest, most excruciating five seconds of Slade's life before finally turning to him. Without a word, Armand pushed through the curtain into the back room and then out the back door, Slade on his heels.
                    

Within seconds they were squeezing into Armand's Jag. The barn he'd converted into a garage was barely wider than the car, and Slade had to force his hips through the door before his chest could uncomfortably follow. Butter would have made the process much easier.

Blind spots made backing onto Royal tricky and painfully slow. Hitting a pedestrian would only slow the process further, so Slade smothered his anxiety with the breath buried in his lungs as the car inched backwards. When Armand had the clear and hit the gas, leaving some of his tires behind, Slade was flooded with warm relief that rapidly dissipated when the garage was no more than a hundred feet behind them.

Driving in the French Quarter was generally a pain in the ass, but evening hours on a holiday weekend were the absolute worst. The Quarter was filled with one-way streets and pedestrians oblivious to cars. On busy weekends, entire streets were blocked off, and huge groups of people standing in the streets that weren't blocked made the roads virtually impassible.

Royal was one-way heading in the opposite direction of the Bywater, so Armand had to double back. Dumaine was one-way heading toward Bourbon, which was a bad idea and likely blocked off, so that just left St. Ann, which meant they had to go right by the Square.

There were people everywhere. Some sort of Voodoo ritual was taking place next to the park, complete with drums and a chanting woman in white robes, long gray dreads and a stick with something hairy topping it. Spectators spilled onto the street, blocking most of the road.

Armand honked, but all that got him was a few dirty looks. He honked again and more dirty looks followed.

Slade rolled down the window and leaned out of the car. "Get the fuck out of the way," he yelled. He was wearing the red contacts, and while his fangs weren't over the top, with his lip curled over them and the growl he couldn't keep from his throat, he probably looked like a complete psycho. It was one of the rare times he appreciated how menacing the
vampire
look could be. The people closest took one look at him and shoved their way deeper into the crowd.

It wasn't until the car squeezed past the last spectator that Slade slid back into his seat. "Sometimes I hate tourists," he said as Armand gunned the car forward.

The streets quieted considerably the further they got from the Square, and it wasn't long before they were turning onto Esplanade. But before the car had completed the turn Slade knew something was wrong. Decatur was blocked off, with hundreds of people lined up in front of the barricades.

Armand slowed. "Shit." Behind him, cars were already stacking up.

"What the hell?" Slade turned to Armand. "A parade?" The pitch of his voice was rising with each word. "Why is there a fucking parade?"

"It's Halloween."

"Not yet! Halloween isn't for a few more days."

"They moved the parade to the weekend. To bring in more tourists, I imagine."

Slade was going to have a panic attack, that's all there was to it. His chest was going to split open and his heart was going to explode and take out the city. "I have to get out of this car," he said, pawing at the handle. "I could crawl faster than this."

"It's still a couple miles away. Relax, we'll get there." Armand was checking the space around the car, but they were completely boxed in: the curb on one side, and cars everywhere else.

"If it were Julia with Lohr, would you be able to relax?"

Armand caught his eye. "Good point." Whipping the steering wheel to the left, he hit the gas and popped over the curb onto the wide, tree-lined island that split Esplanade. After almost running over a couple sitting on a blanket, and possibly taking out a squirrel, they jerked back onto Esplanade heading the opposite direction.

They swung onto Chartres. Frenchmen Street could be as busy as Bourbon, but luckily most people were at the parade, and once they passed Elysian Fields, the streets quieted considerably.

"Kate Miller...?" Armand asked as they drove the last leg toward Lohr's. He left the question open for Slade to fill in the details however he decided.

"I just met her, but..." Slade stared out the window. It wasn't something he knew how to put into words. Shit, he didn't even know how to put it into thoughts. Until he'd thought she was blowing him off, he hadn't paused to consider how much deeper his feelings for her went beyond simple lust.

"What's she like?"

"I know what you're trying to do and I appreciate it, but I can't talk about this right now."

"Understood."

The surroundings had changed from residential to industrial, so Slade knew they were close. He hadn't been to Lohr's Bywater warehouse in a long time. Before he took the Forever Dark Vampire Ball public, Lohr had hosted it at the warehouse. Now it was reserved for rituals and God only knew what other bizarre shit Lohr was into. Slade had been to one event he wished he'd avoided. Lohr was the leader of a coven of Vampires and the party had been part orgy, part blood fest and all weirdness.

His shakes had increased substantially, spreading to his arms and legs. It wouldn't be long before his entire body trembled uncontrollably.

Armand glanced at him. "I can't believe I'm going to offer this, but..."

Slade flicked a dirty look at him. "Don't you start on me, too. Your blood isn't getting any closer to my mouth than your cock would."

"Look asshole, it wouldn't be any fun for me either, but we don't know what to expect in there. You need to be at the top of your game—"

Slade cut him off. "It's Lohr Varius. I think I could kick his ass in my sleep."

"I hope you're right."

Armand pulled into the parking lot, blocking Lohr's car with the Jag. Slade recognized the Jetta that had been parked outside Kate's house and felt his stomach fall into his shoes.
Thinking
she was here and
knowing
she was here were two different things.

His hands were shaking so badly he missed the door handle the first time.

Lohr's warehouse had once been a commercial building which had fallen victim to Katrina's economic backlash. The miscellaneous offices sitting off the main hall were used for the various
play
rooms during parties: the BDSM room, the blood room, the orgy room...

It was empty now, and their footsteps echoed in the long hallway. There were few windows in the place and with the lights off and the sun off-duty, it was incredibly dark. The only light drifting in through the grimy windows came from river barges chugging away on the Mississippi.

Slade scanned the empty warehouse floor. The stage still stood against the far wall, complete with lights and curtains, and he could faintly see the bar tucked under the walkway. As desolate as the place looked now, it was hard to imagine the raging parties once hosted here.

Slade's shakes made opening the door to Lohr's private residence difficult, so Armand pushed ahead. There were no windows in this long hallway, and if there weren't candles lit in the room ahead and enough of the soft light drifting down the hallway, they would be completely blind.

 
They slowed their footsteps as they approached the room. Slade pushed past Armand to peer around the corner. The only person occupying the room was a motionless figure slumped in the corner, a pool of glistening liquid spread out around it. Slade knew immediately it wasn't Kate, but his heart sank when he recognized her.

Jogging to her, he knelt with Armand. "Melanie?" Slade said softly, taking her hand. It was cool. He glanced at Armand who was taking her pulse. "Is she alive?"

Armand's expression was dangerous. "Barely," he said.

Cuts and gashes covered her body, and the patches of dried, crusted blood made it look like someone had splattered paint over her body. "I take it you know her?"

"Kate's friend."

"I see." Delicately, Armand slipped his arms under her legs and around her back, cradling her naked body close as he rose. "I have to get her to the hospital."

"I know. Go. I'll be fine."

"I'm calling the police," Armand told him as he headed back toward the entrance.

Slade nodded. "Please." It wasn't long ago he would have preferred to keep the police out of it, to handle Lohr internally. Part of him still wanted that because then it meant he could beat the shit out of Lohr without interference.

He didn't linger. From what he remembered the times he'd been there, Lohr's living quarters were carved into the back corner of the second story. The hallway that branched off this room led to multiple bedrooms and bathrooms.

Some of the doors were locked. He was going to try all of them first and if he didn't find Kate, he'd come back and bust down the ones that wouldn't open the first time. If he had to find an axe to accomplish that task he would.

He didn't have to. The door at the end of the hall opened to a horrifying image that shot enough fire through his veins his body no longer shook from his Craving, but from anger. Lying in a blood-soaked dress, Kate was tied to the corners of a wrought iron poster bed. Like Melanie, cuts crisscrossed her skin in unbelievable numbers. But unlike Melanie, there was evidence Kate had been bitten on her neck and maybe even her thigh. But what filled him with hatred so putrid it reeked was Lohr Varius forcing his blood into her mouth.

Slade was sideswiped by desire to kill the man. In spite of his weakening body, he charged forward, grabbing Lohr's arm and jerking him backwards. He underestimated Lohr's weight and ended up flinging him against the wall. Spinning, Slade prepared to remove the last of Lohr's consciousness, but instead of lying in a dazed heap, Lohr stood calmly before him, a smug grin on his angular face.

"You behemoth fool."

"Slade!" Kate's raspy voice reached his ears just as something punched his back. Startled, he staggered forward. Glancing at his chest, he stared in disbelief at the circle of blood spreading on his shirt. Had he been shot?

He managed a quick glance over his shoulder and saw Satin standing in the doorway, a small pistol in her hand. Then the world spun and his knees crumbled. Just before darkness overtook him, he caught Kate's terrified icy gaze.