Mating Fever (14 page)

“She cries,” a male said, snickering.

One of the men spoke up, “We’d be happy to
oblige you by killing him if you’ll show us the way.”

“Her pussy smells sweet. Lycan coats her
skin. I wonder if the little bitch tastes as good as she smells. I
say again, we should eat her and let the master find his own kill.
The night grows short.” Menace dripped from his voice.

She knew in that moment that she was dead.
And she was damned well going to take some of them with her. The
savagery of her thoughts empowered her.

Blistering rage surged inside her. Jessica
jumped fluidly from her knees with a snarl, running at him with her
fingers curled into talons. He laughed, pushing at her as though
she were no more threat than a gnat. The laughter died on his lips
as she ducked past his arm and came up again, gouging her fingers
into his eyes with a scream that scored the lining of her throat.
Blood spurted from his lids, lukewarm as it hit her face and rolled
down her cheeks. She ignored the instant, fierce nausea, continued
crushing his eyes, digging in, trying to find his brain.

She wasn’t going to die without a fight.
She’d hurt them, make them sorry they ever touched her, ever hunted
her.

He screamed and knocked her back. Her brain
rattled as she hit a tree trunk. Her head thunked wetly against the
harsh bark. Hot blood seeped instantly onto her scalp, tingles
crawling through her hair like biting ants. Her eyes crossed,
making her dizzy. She closed her eyes against the sickening bile
that rose in her throat with a burning tide. She’d become an animal
and it had done her no good.

The vamp she’d attacked screamed again and
snarled, “I will kill her now!”

Something stopped him from attacking--she
didn’t look to see what. She was too ill to feel grateful.

“No,” another said, “This one intrigues me.
She smells and acts almost ... Lycan. We take her to the
master.”

Someone grabbed her arms suddenly, hauled her
roughly to her feet. Her legs were weak, unable to support her
weight. She struggled to keep her feet under her as she opened her
eyes to another wave of nausea, and then felt her heart stop as she
looked at the blood blackened face looming above her. He snarled at
her, baring sharp teeth that gleamed in the light, but that wasn’t
what sent the icy dread slithering through her bloodstream.

His eyes ... his eyes were solidly,
completely back, revealing no whites.

She’d crushed them, felt them pop beneath her
nails. Her fingers were covered in sticky gore.

He grinned at her, as if reading her
thoughts, snapping his jaws menacingly at her face. Jessica
struggled against him, frantic to get away, clawing at his arms,
his neck, anywhere she could reach. His hands tightened on her,
cutting off the blood flow to her hands. She winced from the
pain.

She knew then that Gabriel’s tales had been
true. There were monsters in the night. And she was their
prisoner.

* * * *

No one knew what he’d done, that he’d marked
Jessica in the most primal of ways. Gabriel had sliced his thigh
and smeared his own blood on his groin, masking the scent of her
before rinsing off once more.

Unbelievably, it had worked. He’d felt
invigorated from their joining, fiercer than ever to defend his
right to claim her as mate.

The fights came faster, easier, but they
still wore him down.

Now he’d accomplished something few had ever
seen in their territory--he’d triumphed over every challenger
without serious harm to himself.

Gabriel was weary beyond belief, his mind was
spent, exhausted. The tight warmth of her body, the sweet taste of
her kiss glimmered in memory alone, swallowed by the effort to
survive. Every blow made Jessica safer, every strike insured she
covered more distance.

He stood now, in the clearing, alone. After
what seemed like an eternity, the challengers had ceased to come.
His chest visibly rose and fell, pronouncing the taut line of his
body, his rigid, wary stance. Blood dripped from his fingers,
trickled from lacerations in his flesh, slowly healing.

Deron stepped forward into the clearing,
regarding Gabriel with clear admiration. “You have done well,
Gabriel.” He looked around the circle of their brethren. “Are there
no others left who wish to challenge him for the right to the
girl?”

They were silent, as one. The challenge was
over.

“Claim your woman,” Deron said to
Gabriel.

The pack roared with approval, calling to his
inner beast. A wind sighed through the gathering, carrying with it
a sense of completion and victory. He tilted his face and looked
toward the setting moon, wondering if he could find Jessica again,
unbelieving that the ordeal was finally over.

The stars blotted from the sky a brief moment
as a black shape crossed his line of vision.

Gabriel ducked and rolled as it swooped over
his head, coming up baring his claws. He growled in warning,
tensing to jump.

“Peace, Lycan. I bring a message for the one
called Gabriel,” the vampire said with barely repressed
amusement.

“I am Gabriel,” he snarled, his hackles
standing on end. Never had the vampires dared to invade the luna
clearing.

The vamp looked him over. “My master
bids me to tell you we have your woman. If you wish her return,
come to
le Ventre de le Diable
in Vieux Carre tomorrow night. If any Lycan should be seen
before then, we will kill her.”

Before Gabriel could wrap his hands around
the smug vampire’s throat, he leapt into the air and disappeared
into the black sky.

“She is one of ours. You cannot face them
alone,” Deron said. Muffled agreement followed, excitement building
with each passing second.

“They seek to slay us once and for
all,” Gabriel murmured, watching the sky.
The
Devil’s Belly
.... It
was one of the largest resting places of the vamps--that they knew
of.

“Tomorrow we take her back and end this,”
Deron said, his voice carrying over the crowd.

It was what they had dreaded and waited
for--open battle with the vampires. And Jessica would be right in
the middle.

Chapter Nine

“What do you want with me?” Jessica demanded,
glancing around surreptitiously for a weapon. The room they were
standing in was perhaps twelve foot squared. The walls floor, even
the ceiling seemed to be made of stone. A single door was set into
one wall, but the man stood between her and that avenue of escape.
The only possibility she could see was a tall candelabra holding a
couple of flickering tapers almost within reach.

A faint smile touched the vampire’s bloodless
lips. “Why, to eat you, my dear.”

“Very funny,” she said. “Ha ha.”

He showed her his fangs. Jessica felt her
heart stand still. “My, what big teeth you have.”

Mordecai smiled thinly. “The better to drink
your blood,” he responded wearily, beginning to feel some annoyance
at her flippant responses.

“I don’t think so,” she said and leapt toward
the candelabra, grabbing it. She discovered she couldn’t lift
it.

“It’s bolted to the floor,” Mordecai said
dryly.

Not to be outdone, Jessica grabbed the tapers
and threw them at him. He raised an arm to shield himself. Once
she’d distracted him, she dashed past and threw open the door.
Beyond the opening lay utter blackness. She ran down the
smotheringly dark corridor, blindly feeling the walls for guidance.
Her breath, rasping in and out of her lungs in fear, deafened her
to pursuit, but she thought she detected little whispers of sound,
like the tiny scurrying feet of rats.

The corridor ended abruptly in what seemed to
be a far larger room than the one she had left behind. She couldn’t
know that for certain, but she sensed a vast emptiness and damp
currents of air swirled through the room.

She paused, catching her breath, trying to
listen for any sounds of pursuit. She wasn’t really comforted when
she could hear nothing. After a moment, she began fumbling her way
through the room, feeling the walls, searching for a door. Her
heart leapt when she found one at last. Excitement flooded her when
the knob turned under her hand. It was dashed in the next moment
when she opened the door and discovered only another corridor--this
one lit by a single, flickering torch.

Glancing uneasily behind her, she discovered
that the room she had just traversed was filled with coffins.

The hair stood on the back of her neck.
Jessica shuddered and strode down the corridor, her shadow casting
long before her, melding into the darkness that swarmed the sides
of the hall. The corridor turned in a sharp corner and ended with
another door, leading into another small, empty room. On one end,
heavy velvet drapes covered an opening. Faintly, Jessica could see
light filtering through the curtains. Certain that she had
discovered a window and the means of escape, she rushed to it,
throwing the curtains aside. To her dismay, she discovered the
drapes concealed another open doorway.

She was seized by two men the moment the
curtains parted. Jessica struggled to free herself, but their hands
were as unyielding as manacles around her arms. They dragged her
deeper into the room, past huge candelabras filled with lighted
tapers.

Ahead of her, she saw a stone throne on a
dais. Mordecai was seated on the throne as if he’d been awaiting
her arrival the entire time. He did not look happy.

An eerie fear crept up her spine, chilling
her blood.

“Let me go!” she screamed, lifting her feet
from the ground, trying to break their hold. They led her
inevitably to the dais, unfazed by her continual struggles. They
stopped, releasing her to her own feet and stepping back just
enough to quash any ideas she’d have of making a run for it.

“What do you want with me?” she asked him
again. He’d deliberately allowed her to escape, only for the
pleasure of capturing her again--and tormenting her with false
hope.

Mordecai tapped his fingers on the arm of the
throne in impatience. “You are not as valuable to me as you seem to
think.”

Jessica swallowed. If anything, her situation
was worse than she originally thought. “Then why keep me here?”

The vampire stood, slowly taking a step down
and then another, until he was inches from her. “Bait. I seek your
Lycan lover ... and others should they be foolish enough to
come.”

“He’s dead,” she said, feeling sick with the
words. Her mouth felt tainted uttering them. Her heart pinched
painfully. “You’re too late.”

“On the contrary. He is coming for you.”

Oh god, no
! She
would be his downfall. Everything that had happened to
them--him--had been because of her. Gabriel would come, and he
would die trying to save her.

Mordecai’s hand snaked out and snatched the
necklace from her neck. He held the large medallion in his palm.
His eyes glittered. “What is this?”

“Protection from werewolves,” she said
weakly. What she’d needed was protection from vampires too. She
thought wistfully of Mikel’s, brimming with weapons for fighting
the undead.

“A useless trinket.” He chuckled, throwing
the medallion away. It skittered on the floor and vanished from
sight. He caught her with one arm, forcing her against his body,
digging his free hand through her hair to grip her scalp. Jessica
gasped and tried to fight him, wincing as he discovered the wound
she’d sustained earlier. His grip on her hair tightened, forcing
her to arch her head deeply to the side.

The blood rushed to her head, pounding with
the frightening knowledge of what he was going to do. And there was
nothing she could do to stop him. She closed her eyes and screamed
when the fangs ravaged her flesh.

* * * *

Gabriel knew before the night was out, many
Lycan would die. He regretted it, regretted the necessity of this
action, but there was no other choice. If they did not take a stand
now, they would be wiped out in their entirety--as a whole at once,
or one by one.

By the next evening, when the moon climbed
high in the sky like a warped pearl, they were ready.

Some drove to the meeting place, others
walked, but all told, over two dozen showed up at Vieux Carre for
the showdown. The streets were strangely empty, as though the
people sensed something massive was going down.

Their excitement infected the air, crackled
between them, connecting them with a hidden energy.

Gabriel led the pack. His rage had not abated
in the many hours since first hearing of her abduction. He seethed
with fury, angered at himself and them for their daring, so much so
that he feared he would be no help to Jessica whatsoever.

They traversed a narrow, dirty alley, keeping
watch above for ambush as they made their way to the back of the
building. The entrance to the underground was there. There was a
garden in the back, with a fountain as centerpiece, spraying water
with a soft gurgle of sound. It appeared tranquil, like the home of
some wealthy, upstanding citizen, surrounded by other upstanding
neighbors.