The Hunt (20 page)

“Did it just bite or were you both mauled?”

“Both of us were torn up pretty good. Maybe all those damn shots and vaccines the government forced on us gave us a fighting chance, I don’t know. We both woke up in the hospital. Pat had to be strapped down and medicated for a while. The uncontrollable rage from the transformation rode him the moment he came to.”

A smile creases my face as I remember my brother’s obnoxious best friend; he always did have a hair trigger. “Did the bastard survive?”

Eric motions with his head at the closed bedroom door. “Yup, he’s in there right now, trying to seduce the pants off our injured pack-mate. I don’t think he’ll get far. Lori is a bit of a bitch.” He laughs at his own joke. “In every sense of the word.”

“How did you find out what you were?”

“Some guy came to visit us in the hospital. Claimed we’d been changed into werewolves and bitten by a junior member of his ‘pack’. Pat laughed his ass off. I just kind of sat there in shock. The man was Romeo, our alpha. A group of them were vacationing down in warmer weather during the fall,” he pauses in his speech, looking to see if I’m listening. At a nod from me he continues, “He told us one member wandered off right when they were scheduled to leave before the full moon. The full moon happened and the loner wolf attacked. Romeo only brought us along on this hunt because we’re the newest pups and he didn’t trust us alone with the pack.”

“Yeah, but to bring you out to hunt a rogue vampire?” I shake my head. The incredulity of my brother being a werewolf still hasn’t sunk in. It’s easier to just examine the facts. “That doesn’t seem like a good choice, either.”

Eric shrugs. “Which is why we’re mostly here in the cabin. We went out initially when the hunt started, but at four months as werewolves, we’re not really up to snuff yet. Both of us can follow orders and hunt in the pack at home, but here is different. Once Lori was attacked in the main building, Elsa wanted us safe and sound in here.”

Pat saunters out of the bedroom, gets a look at me, and stops dead. “I thought you had the TV on. Am I seeing things or is that your brother, Asa, looking like a pasty-assed version of himself and fuckin’ reeking of a dead guy?”

I rise from the couch to greet my old friend. Quick as a wink, Pat launches across the space and bitch slaps me. My head whips around and the skin of my lip splits. I turn back to face the enraged Were as the small bit of blood on my mouth disappears and the wound seals shut.

“What the fuck was that for?” I ask, trying to keep my temper in check.

“Do you know what we went through thinking you were dead? Be thankful I only smacked you once, you inconsiderate bastard.” Anger gone, Pat pulls me into a hug and thumps me on the back.

I shake my head as he lets go and plops down on the couch next to where I sat earlier. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Yup, and an asshole. Tell me something I don’t know,” Pat replies with a good-natured grin on his face. “How’d you wind up with a liquid diet, anyway?”

I settle back on the couch, still feeling a bit like this moment is surreal, and try to explain. “We were out in the field for a few weeks, tail end of winter in Afghanistan. Came across a local—pale, skinny guy who looked delirious. I was bringing him back for medical assistance when he jumped me.” I look away, the memory lurching up to life. “I found out later he must have drained me dry, and then gave me some of his blood in return. Maybe he felt bad for almost killing me?” I shrug and finally meet my brother’s concerned eyes. “I dunno. I didn’t know what happened to me until I tried to snack on my buddies. After that, I went AWOL and staged my death.”

“How did you get back to the States?” Eric asks.

“Yeah, and did you forget your family’s fuckin’ phone numbers, too?” says Pat.

“Took me a few months to figure out how to get home. The first person I called was Aunt Cali.”

“Aunt Cali?” Eric says. “We haven’t seen her in years. Since she went overboard and started acting weird.”

“I remember hearing about that,” says Pat. “Your whole family cut her off, right?”

“You guys don’t recall
what
she was acting weird about, do you?” He shakes his head. “You weren’t paying attention much, Eric. Think you were eleven or so at the time. She started talking about other worlds and supernatural beings. The family kind of wrote her off like she was a nut. Little by little everyone distanced themselves from her until we just stopped talking about her.”

“So you called her?” Eric says.

“I figured maybe she wasn’t so crazy. After all, I had to drink blood to live and the sun burned my skin… Turns out, she was bitten by a werewolf over a decade ago. Lives in Manhattan now.”

“No shit?”

“Her husband is a vampire. I lived with their group for over a year.”

Pat leans forward and lifts up his hand, in a mock strike. “Don’t tell me you were only an hour away for all that time and still didn’t reach out?”

I put two hands out in a placating gesture, “Relax, fuckhead. By that point, I couldn’t contact you. The vampire family, or
seethe
, forbade it. If I wanted to keep you all safe, I had to play by their rules. Over time, I realized the rules were made for a good reason.”

“‘Good reason’ my ass,” Pat sneers. “It was just wrong. And you know it.”

I stand, not wanting to get into an argument with the volatile young man. “I’m not going to rehash why I didn’t contact my brother and father when I could have killed them the moment I got too hungry. It’s done. If you two hadn’t been bitten I doubt I’d have ever been able to tell you and have you believe me.”

My phone rings and I grab it.

“Yup?”

“Meeting is about to convene,” Rafe’s smooth tones come over the airwaves. “You might want to hightail it over.”

“Yes, boss. Be right there.” I extend a hand to my brother, who ignores it and hugs me again. “I’ll be back as soon as I can and we’ll talk some more.” He thumps me on the back before stepping away. “Duty calls.” I flip off Pat, like I used to do back home years ago. He smiles and returns the one-finger salute.

“You work at this place?” Eric asks. “You’re not here as part of the hunt?”

“Nope, not a hunter. I joined this family about two months ago.” I stride to the door and turn back with my hand on the knob. “Be back when I can.”

“You better, I don’t plan on losing you twice.”

Moving quickly down the lit paths, I cross into the grotto and see a panel of wood over one of the windows to the gym. I bet it’s one of the things Rafe wanted to talk to me about.

The stillness and peace I usually feel when stepping through the back door into Rafe and Viv’s suite is missing. The unmistakable odor of wet dog, not werewolf, fills the space. A glance into the living room reveals two big wolf-dogs stretched out on the pull-out couch, staring intently my way.

“Nice doggies,” I say.

The lip of one half-breed pulls back, showing long, pristine white teeth. A low rumble sounds through the quiet and the creature’s muscles tense to leap.

A slam sounds from the direction
of the workroom and Asa skitters to a halt inside the command center. “What’s with the big mutts upstairs?”

A smile tugs my lips at his obvious haste and discomfort. “Amy and Kujo—two of Jon’s wolf-dogs.”

“Why are they camped out in the living room on a hide-a-bed?”

“Jon was hurt and recovering under Vivian’s eye. The dogs came to lend healing strength with their presence.”

“Well, he’s going to have to introduce me to them and assure the mutts I’m not on the menu.” He turns to show me a rip in his coat. “The big reddish-brown one was damn fast.”

“Yup, that would be Kujo. Think he might be part
Dogue de Bordeaux
mixed with a wolf.”

“A what?”

“French Mastiff.” At Asa’s blank look, I continue, “Big-ass dog.”

He nods and heads down the hall, seemingly preoccupied and uninterested now that the dog in question is no longer an immediate threat.

Vivian strolls casually into the underground SCIF facility, cool and collected. She has a relaxed air about her, which has been missing for a while now. A smile curves her Cupid’s bow mouth when she glances my way, “Ready to begin?”

I grab my paperwork off the desk and rise to follow. “Yes, ma’am.”

We settle in, with Vivian taking a spot between Rafe and Jon—who is still looking a little worse for wear. Asa’s earlier chattiness is gone and he looks pale sitting next to Paul, but, then again, he did just come in from the cold.

“Did you fill everyone in on the latest kill reported by Asa?” Vivian asks her husband.

“Yes, but they aren’t aware of what happened in the gym yet.”

A light frown mars Vivian’s smooth forehead and quickly disappears. “Vikram turned out to be the vampire who killed Melvyn and attacked Lori in the hall. His involvement, and new werewolf blood addiction, were confirmed when he tried to drain Jon.”

Paul gasps and turns to the healing Were. “Damn, Jonathan. You were able to take down a crazed vamp on your own? Impressive.”

A wry smile crosses the man’s face. “Not exactly. Vivian dove through a window and ripped his head off.”

A choking sound comes from Paul, but other than that, the table takes the news of our boss’s ruthlessness in relative silence.

“Wasn’t he Sanji’s mate?” the chef says after he collects himself. “At least we won’t have any retribution coming from her people, right?”

“Not exactly,” Vivian says while tapping her fingers on the small notebook in front of her. “I’ll have to report what happened to the council… but I’d really rather not have to tell Coraline about Vikram.”

“Maybe she’ll focus on the hunters being killed,” I suggest, “and you can call the council about Vikram when she’s gone?”

“We’ll see.” Vivian says. “I haven’t decided yet. But I’d like to discuss what you’ve found out from Cy and what we need to do to get this hunt back on track.”

I flip open my folder and hand out copies of the email information I received. “Emiko’s name was added to a large parcel of property right in the heart of Buenos Aires about ten years ago.”

“Before she became an enforcer?” Rafe asks.

“Yes. Looks like she married a very wealthy connected old man who died mysteriously within their first year of marriage. All of his estate was left to her and his six middle-aged children didn’t like it. ”

“Amateur,” snorts Vivian. “Never go after the ones with large families or lots of political connections. Too many people to question the union.”

“There were several court battles,” I continue, “but his video-will stating his wishes was witnessed being recorded by a judge and two medical examiners to ensure he was of the right state of mind when he made the switch to cut out his children.

“Over the past five years, half of her former husband’s children died of apparent natural causes.” I pause for a moment before asking, “What do you think the chances are she didn’t mind control the old guy during the recording?”

Rafe snorts, “Slim to none.” Only Paul seems to be fascinated, the rest of the table looks nonplused by the revelations.

“How does this tie in with the recent killings she’s accused of?” Paul asks.

Vivian runs one finger down the page. “Look about three quarters of the way down. The judge and one doctor who witnessed the testimony were two of the bodies drained and left on the Tribunal’s doorstep.”

Rafe reaches for his mug of coffee, “Are you saying you think she killed the people who could back up the video as legitimate or you think one of the old guy’s kids did it?”

“Keep reading,” Vivian says. “The judge sat on a prominent board discussing the revitalization of older parts of the city and the doctor lived on the lot bordering Emiko’s.”

I finally ask a question that’s been niggling the back of my mind since I read all the data an hour ago, “Who benefits with inheriting the property if Emiko dies?”

“Depends,” my boss says with a speculative look on her face. “If she dies while in the service of the council as an enforcer, then they get her property. Same thing if she dies as a criminal.”

Jon perks up, speaking in a rough voice. “Who gets the property of the hunters who die here? The rogue?”

“Good question,” Rafe says. “I believe one of the stipulations they had to sign for the hunt was their seethe would get half and the council would get half. Not bad, considering whoever normally kills a vampire inherits everything they own by default.”

The brutal logic of a seethe being only as strong as who leads it sinks in to those of us new to the inn. I stand by my decision to leave the Maggio clan in Chicago; Vivian is still stronger and has a more defensible position here on the resort.

Asa sits quiet through the entire debate. He appears to be listening, but something must have shaken him recently. He’s more withdrawn and reserved than I’ve ever seen.

“It’s not just the killing of a vampire that guarantees inheritance to the killer,” Vivian says. “They have to be willing to claim it. Possibly fighting other members of the master’s seethe or traveling a great distance and uprooting their own lives to stake claim.” Her eyes take on a faraway gleam, “It’s not always what it’s cracked up to be.”

“But the council has far reaching power,” I say. “And the ability to back up a claim of ownership, right?”

Paul looks confused, “So this could all very well have been about money and property and never the dead Argentine officials?”

“Exactly,” Vivian answers. She looks to Asa and her eyes narrow. “Are you okay? You haven’t said a word.”

“I just met my brother, Eric,” he says in a hollow tone. “He’s part of Romeo’s pack.”

I slap the bald vampire on the back, “That’s incredible news!”

Rafe smiles, offering his congrats and Paul blusters like a fool, mumbling about how important family is.

“He’s a werewolf?” Jon laughs. “Aww, too bad man. You’ll never get the dog stink out of your nose now.”

Vivian’s face shuts down, a mask of indifference slipping over her features. “We’ll talk more about this development later,” she says directly to Asa. “Get your head back in the game, alright?”

“Yes, boss.” Asa glances down at the sheet, proving with his next question he’s been listening the whole time. “Would the council go through so much— killing those officials and charging a trusted enforcer with their deaths—just for money?”

“Never forget,” Vivian says in a solemn tone, “money
is
power. I don’t think the Ancients are involved in such a mundane play for advancement, but I wouldn’t put it past members of the Inner Circle.”

Coraline’s blond-haired nastiness leaps to mind, I wonder if she volunteered for this trip to keep an eye on how things unfolded. We haven’t seen her much since yesterday, but I received a text from Chelly before noon, saying she saw the council member enter the orgy room with her hooded guards. Good to know the sexual aspects of the inn can crack her mean shell.

Paul clears his throat, drawing attention to himself. “So, we should talk to this Emiko chick, one-on-one, right?” His eyes dart around the circle, as if he’s checking to see he didn’t speak out of turn.

Most newbies wouldn’t even be involved in a seethe meeting at this point in their undead existence, proving Vivian is certainly the most different kind of master I’ve ever served under. My first one, James, the one who turned me over a century and a half ago, was as nutty as they come—and sadistic to boot. A shiver steals over me at the remembered exploits of the infamous “Gentleman Jack”. Killing him took the work of all ten members of the family. I doubt any of my old seethe-mates, if they are still around, has forgotten the horrible night.

“It’s not hard to find her,” Asa says, breaking into my ruminations. “The tracking device in her silver bracelets has held up under the cold with no reported blank spots on the property.”

The slimmed-down chef responds before anyone else can, “We need to set a trap.”

Jon shakes his head, “Dude, why would we need to set a trap when we can find her anytime we want? Maybe you need to stick to cooking.”

Paul’s face pinks a little, revealing he’s fed recently or he wouldn’t have the ability to color at all. “No, I meant with the council member.”

“Hurting Coraline is a bad idea,” Vivian says. “She’s powerful and crafty—I’m sure she’s here with another purpose. I don’t want to walk into a trap she may have set for us.”

“Don’t you mean ‘you’, Vivian?” I say rashly. My heart feels lodged in my throat. I just called my boss out on the carpet for not being open with us. Good thing there are no swords in the room or I might be headless right now.

Rafe reaches out and squeezes her hand. The ancient vampire betrays no sign of even hearing me, but the glares I’m getting around the table assure me I did indeed speak aloud.

“Yes, Drew,” Vivian says in a deadly calm. “She is here for me. But if I go down, it won’t be without a fight.”

Rafe’s voice cuts like ice, “Do you forget your place, Drew? Do you forget your pledge?”

I shake my head, “No, I just want to know what I’m up against and why.” I can’t believe the thoughts and fears I’ve had are spilling out of me in a rush like this. Am I signing my own death warrant by speaking so recklessly to my new master? Or am I eager to live, and fear the happiness I’m discovering with Chelly will be destroyed over an old fight my new, arrogant leader had decades ago?

Vivian stares off across the table, over Asa’s head. Her red-lacquered nails drum a beat on the tabletop and she remains quiet.

“Were you there, Rafe?” I ask when it appears Vivian won’t answer.

He turns his head and shoots me a look of warning. “It was before my time with my wife.”

“And you don’t know?” I say.

Rafe slams a fist down on the table. “What I know and what I will share are two very different things.” His anger radiates out, for the first time I notice a power signature coming off the human. It’s subtle and different from a vampire one, but it’s there nonetheless.

Right before my eyes, the walls in the conference room shimmer and disappear. A light surrounds us and trees form—thick trunks covered in moss circle the group about twenty feet away. The wood table in front of us melts into the floor and a spongy moss soon covers what has become a dark soil.

Our chairs don’t feel like we’re sitting in them anymore, rather, when I look down, I’m sitting cross-legged on a forest floor. The lush smells of the earth and growing vegetation fill my nose and warmth heats my skin. I look up to see the sun shining clearly on me, at high noon, and yet I feel no pain. A bird tweets in the distance and a breeze touches my skin, cooling it from the sun’s rays.

“Oh my god,” Paul screeches falling forward onto his hands. “Someone help me. I think I’m having an LSD flashback.”