Dead Man Running: Book Two - Supernatural Bounty Hunter Romance Novellas (6 page)

Chapter Eight

Alma flipped through the TV channels irritably.  She clucked her tongue and shouted at the TV as she landed on a horror movie.  An idiot young girl was running away from a psycho vampire, and she was doing all the wrong things. 
Come on, grab the cell phone and call for help!

With a protracted huff, she threw the remote on the coffee table; the TV flicked to a talk show. 
The film just reminded her of her own errant vampire anyway.

Alma checked her phone again.  Nothing. 
She didn’t know what she was expecting really
.  She knew what she wanted, an apology, but she didn’t imagine that would be forthcoming.  Maybe she was just dreading a phone call telling her that her idiot mate had finally managed to burn himself to a freaking crisp.

It was just so typical of their relationship
.  He was always so obsessed with her safety, claiming they can’t be together because it’s not safe.  Always keeping her at arm’s length, just in case she might get hurt.  She’d put up with it for four long freaking years, and all she ever asked in return was that he not do something downright dangerous like walking outside in the sunshine.  And then, as usual, he just completely ignored her.  What does he want? 
To be the first vampire with a suntan?!

Alma picked at her freshly lacquered fingernails, absently admiring the Prussian blue color.  She tried to push all thoughts of her infuriating mate out of her head, and instead allowed the irate yells of the talk show host to seep into her psyche.

“… and if a member of the Council of Supernaturals can’t even manage to control himself, what hope is there for other vampires?”  Alma scowled as the nasal twang of the bleached blonde host made her skin prickle.  “How can we trust that the vampires won’t stop at whores?  What if they start killing decent people?  What if…”

Alma rolled her eyes,
who on earth let this ignorant cow on TV?
 

“…
then where would we be?  Sodom and Gomorrah, that’s where!”

“Oh, shut up!” yelled Alma, throwing a book at the TV.  It was a much-practiced move, and she easily hit the off switch.

“Nice shot,” came an amused voice behind her.

Alma leapt off the couch.  She spun round with her hand over her thundering heart.  “Fucking hell, Viktor!  You dick!  You almost gave me a frigging heart attack!”

Viktor chuckled, taking in her appearance.  He’d never seen his mate looking anything other than perfect, with neatly pressed clothes, cleverly painted make-up, and not a hair out of place.  Apparently, she dressed a little differently when she wasn’t expecting company.  She was wearing faded, baggy sweatpants, a heavily worn t-shirt with the slogan ‘what the frak?’ and her hair was messily pulled back, held in place by a pencil. 
Not that he was complaining; she always looked divine to him.

Alma noted his roving eyes, and cringed as she realized she was wearing her most slovenly outfit.  She tried to cover herself with her hands, to no avail.  If she knew he’d be turning up, of course she wouldn’t have worn her
Battlestar Galactica t-shirt.  Okay, she was a closet sc-fi fan; she’d been to a few comic conventions with an ex-boyfriend and got hooked.  Big whoop. 
She used to dress as Xena and send the young boys wild.

Viktor stepped toward her, a smirk on his face.  “Four years, and I had no idea you owned sweat pants.”

Alma pursed her lips.  “Well, after four years, isn’t that the normal time when couples let themselves go?  Feel free to grow a beer gut.”

He grinned.  “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“What are you doing here?”

Viktor stood before her; softly, he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her body to his, aligning their sexes.  Their mouths were only a whisper apart.

In spite of her annoyance, she groaned at the stirrings of lust coursing through her and smoothed her hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders.

“I needed to see my mate.”  His words were a soft caress, and as usual the acknowledgement that she was his mate didn’t fail to make her thaw and purr like a kitten for him. 

He took her mouth in a searing, needy kiss, pushing his tongue inexorably into her mouth, and reveling in the sweetness of her taste.  Her body tensed before relaxing against the onslaught of passion his touch created.

Viktor drew back and rested his forehead against hers.  He was in no doubt that he could dispel all her anger with one kiss,
for a little while at least
.  Which was lucky, really; he was too old to change, undoubtedly he would piss his mate off, over and over again, but he did plan on kissing her over and over again, so everything would balance out.

Alma licked her lips; she didn’t know about other vampires, but hers tasted exquisite.  It was hard to explain, but his flavor was fresh, vibrant, and full of life. 
Which was ironic really, as technically he was dead
.  In her experience, humans tasted of toothpaste, mouthwash, food and occasionally cigarettes.  There was always a tang to the kiss, but kissing a vampire was absolutely blissful.

She looped her arms around his neck, playing with the soft tendrils of hair on his neck.  “Shouldn’t you be playing with your vampire friend?”

Viktor snorted, perhaps he had overestimated just how powerful his kiss could be. 
She was still miffed.
  “I’d rather play with you.” 

He buried his head in her neck, running his tongue over her soft, warm skin.  After all the frustration and worry, he needed this.  He needed his mate’s soothing touch. 
He needed her life-giving blood
.

Alma bit her lip; his hardening erection pulsed against her fluttering sex.  “Hmm, where is he now?”

“At my house,” came the muffled reply.

“Is that… oh my!”

Alma moaned lustily as he snaked his hand inside her sweat pants.  His talented fingers dipped through her drenched slit and stroked in and out.

“We should… umm… talk… we…” Alma panted, trying to hold onto a shred of sanity
, determined not to allow his delicious manipulations to conquer her rational self completely.

Viktor scraped his fangs over her neck.  He itched to push his way into her beautiful flesh, to rip through her caramel skin and sup at her delectable blood.  He pushed a third finger inside her, quickly plunging in and out, and stretching her tight sheath. 

Alma gripped his body to her tightly.  Her hips jerked, and she cried out as he caressed her sweet spot.  “Oh yes, yes!  Right there!”

Her body trembled as heavenly pleasure rumbled through her, awaiting release.  Viktor rubbed his thumb against her clit, wonderfully massaging her tender nub.  Her breathing hitched, and he sped up his movements, until at last, her orgasm hit her like a thunderbolt. 

Alma screamed as his razor-sharp fangs sliced through her vein.  She tensed at the tingle of pain before slumping in his arms; her body was as soft as cotton as her mate took his fill of her.

Viktor swallowed her heavenly blood, groaning as every inch of him ignited in ecstasy.  He felt himself growing stronger and more alive than he’d been in over three hundred years.  The hot, electrifying blood of his mate seared a path through his cold, undead body. 
God she was glorious!

Alma whimpered softly, and the haze lifted.  Viktor pulled away from her, shaking.  Her eyes glazed, and her skin paled.

“Fuck Alma, I’m sorry.”

Viktor lifted her and laid her down on the couch.  Caught in the moment, desperate to be calmed by her, he’d taken more from her than he should. 
Almost draining her…

She smiled wanly and lifted a hand to his cheek.  “It’s fine, and I’m fine.”

Viktor caught her hand and pressed it between his.  How could he be so selfish?  He was so obsessed with keeping her safe, and yet here he was almost hurting her with his overzealous feeding.  Maybe he was the biggest danger to his mate’s health. 
Fuck, he was an asshole!

He considered giving her some of his blood, but feared the consequences.  If she really were close to death, feeding her a vampire’s blood could turn her.  He didn’t want that,
not yet anyway
.

Racked with remorse, he sat holding her hand until finally the color slowly returned to her cheeks, and he sighed. 
Thank the gods!

She dozed lightly for almost an hour until eventually she fell asleep.  Carefully, he took her to the bedroom, undressed her and put her to bed.  He watched over her for a couple of hours, before feeding her a few drops of his blood.

Finally satisfied, he left her with a note on her pillow asking for her forgiveness. 
It would be readily given; he knew that.
  Perhaps if she did shout at him and get angry that would make him feel a little better, but she wouldn’t.  She would rail at him until she was blue in the face if he put himself in danger, but she wouldn’t say a word about him putting her in danger. 

It troubled him how little regard she had for her own safety.  To him, she was the most important person in the Universe, if anything happened to her…
no, that didn’t bear thinking about
.

Viktor slunk out of her apartment, as usual out through the fire escape like a cat burglar.  He jogged through the shadows back to his car and was soon speeding home.

It had been a mistake to visit Alma. 
No, not a mistake, it was a never a mistake to see his mate
.  He should have just worked out a few of his frustrations before he arrived, perhaps then he might have been a little more tender with her.

He groaned as he pulled into the garage. 
You would think after 370 years he would have some clue about how to handle women, but with his feisty mate, he always seemed to be fucking up.

Viktor sauntered through the quiet house, warily eyeing the burgeoning sunrise.  He flicked on the automatic switch for the blinds.

He stilled listening for signs of Julian.  The house was dead.  A feeling of dread suddenly swelled in Viktor’s stomach.

Maybe Julian was already asleep; he wouldn’t make any noise if he were sleeping.
  Given that he didn’t need to breathe… 
Although vampires didn’t need a lot of sleep, and the older they got, the less they needed, they still needed to recharge now and then, and Julian had endured a couple of very trying days. 

Julian’s scent was very faint, but then
some older vampires like Julian were able to mask that.

Viktor moved throu
gh every room seeking his houseguest, in the end coming to the guest room.  He steeled himself before pushing the door open.  If Julian were there he wouldn’t be pleased with being disturbed, and if he weren’t…

Viktor howled in fury. 
Julian was long gone.

Chapter Nine

Viktor stared at the phone in his hand, dreading the call he needed to make. 

Viktor had waited hours for Julian to return, but he hadn’t.  It was now a couple of hours till sunset and Viktor had run out of patience.

He had tried calling Julian, repeatedly.  All his calls just went to voicemail.  He considered calling some of Julian’s friends but decided against it.
If they knew the older vampire was AWOL, it would just make matters worse. 

Julian’s friends were
frenemies.  Vampires weren’t like humans; they didn’t tend to seek out friendly company; they only sought what they needed. 
They were technically demons, after all.
  They lived such long lives, that ultimately they came to prefer being alone, because it is the way of life that they generally have to resign themselves to live. 
Apart from those who are lucky enough to find their true mate
.  Viktor was a bit of an oddball in the vampire community, openly seeking friendship with mortals.

Julian was a particularly powerful vampire, feared, but respected, and surrounded by sycophants and people who were terrified of him. 
All of whom would be delighted with his fall from grace
.

Viktor suspected Julian had one or two casual girlfriends in the city, but Julian certainly hadn’t confided who they were.

He needed to find Julian, and soon, but covertly.  He didn’t want anyone else to know Julian was missing. 

Viktor was reluctant to admit it, but he needed help.  He needed someone who could get around in the daytime, and a little help to actually wrangle the older, stronger vampire wouldn’t go amiss either. 

Taking a completely unnecessary, but still reassuring breath, he speed dialed Marcus.  The cool, detached voice of the snake shifter answered on the first ring.

Bracing himself, he started to explain the problem.

*

Alma tapped her keyboard rhythmically.  Thankfully, the office was pretty quiet, because she was in no mood to work.

The hunters were out hunting; Mia had left early, and the phone hadn’t rung once in the last hour, giving her plenty of time to obsess over her mate.

She rubbed her neck thinking over what happened the previous night.  She considered that she should have just let him drain her. If he had, he would have been forced to turn her, and they could be together.

True, she wasn’t exactly relishing becoming a vampire, but she’d had the last four years to come to terms with it, and she was more than ready.  It would mean giving up her powers. 
Dead people don’t have magic, although some of them developed certain skills over time..
.  Plus, there would be that whole adjustment period where Viktor would have to lock her away, so she didn’t go on a rampage and kill innocent people,
yada, yada, yada
.  Not to mention the fact that she wouldn’t be able to go out in the sun anymore.  But, she reflected that they would be worthwhile sacrifices to be with her mate.

As vain as it was, the main reason she was so desperate to be turned was her age.  With every passing moment she was getting older, her looks were fading and her body was sagging, and it completely pissed her off.  She’d been 29 for a while now, and people were beginning to suspect she was just a tiny bit older than that.

Viktor told her he had been 40 years old when he was turned.  Another four years and she’d technically be older than him. 
No, she couldn’t have that
.  She needed to be turned and soon.  She looked great for her age, even if she did say so herself. 
But how much longer would she stay looking great?

Alma jumped guiltily as Marcus strode out of his office.  He gave her a quizzical look.  Normally he found her painting her nails, or reading a magazine, and she didn’t even bother to pretend she felt any guilt about slacking off work.

Marcus looked her up and down.  “You look a little pale.”

Alma shrugged.  “I’m fine; just a little drained I guess.” 
Almost completely drained last night
.

Marcus cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.  He leafed through the bond files, extracting Julian
Holgersson’s.

He passed it to her.  “Viktor called;
Holgersson’s on the run.”

Alma snorted.  She was about to open her mouth to say ‘I told you so’ but Marcus cut her short.

“Hopefully, he can be found before his court date.  I have somewhere I need to be, but send him someone to help, Logan preferably.”

Alma sucked in a breath. 
Yes, this was perfect.

Marcus looked at her curiously; she was acting very oddly today.  “Okay?”

Her lips curled up into a Cheshire cat smile.  “Peachy.”