Vampire, Hunter

by Maria Arnt

  “Don’t stop,” he gasped. “Not yet. Please.”

  Tanya groaned and pulled on the cut harder, letting her teeth dig into his skin a little.

  “Oh god, yes, Tanya. That’s it,” he crooned.

  Holy shit. She closed her eyes and relished the taste of his blood. Why isn’t it always like this?

  After a couple of minutes, Shaun leaned back against the headrest. “Okay, I’m getting dizzy. Time to stop,” he said breathlessly.

  She pulled back immediately. “Are you okay?”

  He laughed weakly and took his glasses off to run a shaky hand down his face. “I am fantastic. You were amazing.”

  Tanya leaned back in her seat, catching her breath. “Thanks. You’re pretty good at this yourself.”

  “I used to be a junkie,” he admitted, pulling a band-aid from his pocket and unwrapping it. “Some friends helped me get out of danger, but I never cleaned up completely.” He put the band-aid on, pulling the two sides of the cut together.

  She frowned. “You’re sure that won’t scar?”

  “I’ll put some antibiotic cream and a butterfly on it when I get home. Good as new in a couple weeks. I try to put a good three to four months between bites, it will be totally gone by then.” He grinned and pulled his sleeve back down. “Can I kiss you?”

  She laughed. “Sure.”

  His lips were soft and gentle, cautious, and he didn’t even open his mouth. Considering her tongue probably tasted like his blood, she didn’t push it. It was sweet and awkward and reminded her rather painfully of Jake.

  Tanya dropped him off at a bus stop, at his request. She offered to take him back to his dorm, but he explained it was against one of his self-appointed rules to let her know exactly where he lived. He did give her his phone number, though.

  “Call me if you need anything,” he said, standing on the curb. “Even if it’s next week. I can at least refer someone to you.”

  “Thanks.” She grabbed the hand he offered. “I really needed this Shaun. I needed somebody to be my friend.”

  “No problem. Better get back before your Master starts tugging on that short leash of his,” he teased.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Good luck on finals.”

  The drive back to the apartment was quiet, and she spent it thinking. Her good mood had disappeared with Shaun and left too many questions in its wake. Why was it so easy to strike up a great relationship with a perfect stranger, but so hard to get along with Seth, or even Beatrice for that matter? Why couldn’t Seth be more like Shaun: compassionate, kind, and funny? Why couldn’t Beatrice be as understanding?

  For a brief moment, she entertained the idea of pursuing a relationship with Shaun. But she knew that it was more her neediness than his personality that had drawn her in, and it would never work anyway. By the time she pulled back into the garage, her temper had returned full force.

  It was not, however, enough to distract her from the sound of the BMW’s engine ticking as it cooled.

  Inside, she found Seth reading a book on the new living room couch, an overstuffed L-shape with too many pillows. “Oh, you’re back,” he said archly. “Did you have a good time?”

  She chucked the keys at him. Even from here she could smell the leather and exhaust. “I dunno, did you like the show?”

  He shrugged and pushed the glasses he was wearing up the bridge of his nose. “Cute guy. Seemed nice.” His grin was full of feigned innocence.

  She let out a frustrated sound and stomped up the stairs. “You ruin everything!” she shouted, and slammed the door.

  31

  The next evening, Tanya was surprised to hear a knock at her door shortly after she woke up. Listening, she caught the sound of Beatrice waiting outside. She opened her door cautiously, expecting a lecture.

  Instead, the older vampire wore an apologetic smile. “Can we talk?”

  “Sure,” Tanya opened the door wider, letting her in. Beatrice closed it behind her and sat on the antique chair that had mysteriously replaced the one Seth had broken.

  “I wanted to apologize,” she explained.

  Tanya sighed and flopped down on her bed. “You don’t have to,” she said wearily.

  Beatrice nodded. “But I’ve been thinking and praying most of the day, and I think I should. I realized you may be right.”

  That got her attention, and she sat up. “About what?”

  “Vampires don’t die of natural causes,” she began. “And if they are ever going to face judgment, that means someone has to kill them. With that in mind, it seems silly to wait until someone is directly in danger to kill them in defense. So long as you know that they are careless with the lives of others, and have no intention of reforming, then perhaps it is right that they be killed.”

  Tanya raised an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting rationalization.”

  Beatrice chuckled. “It’s actually very close to the Church’s official stance on capital punishment. If a convicted murderer cannot be safely imprisoned without risking his escape or the lives of his guards and fellow prisoners, and he has proven in the past that he will kill again if given the opportunity, then it is not only permissible but recommended that he be executed to preserve the lives of his future victims,” she quoted.

  Tanya nodded. “But this isn’t an execution we’re talking about. I’m not just killing them, I’m draining them.”

  “I thought about that too,” Beatrice looked down at her hands in her lap. “You’re taking their power, which they got from killing humans. Wasting this power by killing them conventionally isn’t doing their victims any favors. I think... well I would imagine they would want you to use it to go on stopping other killers.” Her voice had gone very quiet.

  Letting out a long breath, Tanya realized just how much Beatrice’s acceptance meant to her. She was the one bright spot in all this mess, her only inspiration for retaining some shred of her humanity. “Well, I can’t promise that my motives are always quite that noble, but that’s definitely along the same lines as what I feel,” she agreed.

  “But I also wanted to apologize because I realized I have been judging your actions based on my beliefs,” she said, a little more cheerful.

  Tanya blinked rapidly. “Well, yeah?”

  Beatrice shook her head. “It’s not my place to judge you. Maybe if you were Catholic, it would be right for me to point out how certain situations pertain to the faith, but even then it would be wrong to judge. The plank in my own eye before the speck in yours, and all that. I’m used to ignoring certain things where other vampires are concerned, but I related so much to you, I’m afraid I forgot my manners.”

  Tanya stared a moment, bemused. Is she for real? She laughed. “Well hey, no hard feelings. For what it’s worth, you did make me think about it pretty hard.”

  “Oh?” She seemed pleasantly surprised.

  “Yeah, I chickened out last night. Ran into a donor and fed off him instead. He was really helpful, actually.” Tanya smiled, remembering.

  Beatrice gave a soft, wondering smile. “Wonderful. I worried that you might not be quite up to the challenge yet. I’m glad such a good alternative crossed your path.”

  Tanya could guess that her friend had prayed for just such a thing. It gave her the willies to think that Shaun’s miraculous appearance had been just that—miraculous.

  Tanya took a few deep breaths, slowing her heart rate as much as she could. It would be a dead giveaway, as she had learned the hard way over the last two weeks. Beatrice was gone to Mass, and the condo was nearly silent. Finally calm, she wandered slowly into the study.

  Seth glanced up from his desk, where he was working on some paperwork. He was still wearing the glasses, which pissed her off. “Yes?”

  She held up the book she had borrowed earlier, on the history of the Mafia in Chicago. “Done. Not much about Johnny specifically, but it gives me a good idea of how the organization works.”

  “Good.” His eyes followed her as she crossed t
he room to put the book back in its place.

  That accomplished, Tanya came to stand opposite him and leaned on the desk. “What are you working on?” The low scoop of her shirt offered him an excellent view of her breasts, and she watched him lick his lips before he answered.

  “Taxes,” he said, nonplussed, and eyed her very short skirt.

  “But it’s December,” she frowned, pretending not to notice the slightest increase in his heart rate.

  He sighed heavily. “Maintaining my cover as Professor Walker and managing my personal funds at the same time is a complicated business. I like to stay on top of it as much as possible.”

  Tanya came around the desk to peer over his shoulder at the documents. Obligingly, he spread them out a bit, showing various portfolio reports and collection assessments. As he began to explain what they each were, she quickly lifted the blackjack and brought it down in a hard snap on the back of his neck.

  Seth cried out and slumped against his desk. She jumped back to avoid retaliation, but he didn’t move.

  “Oh, very well done,” he groaned. “You managed to crush the spine. Quickly now, I’m timing you.”

  Huffing, she yanked his chair out from the desk and pulled his limp body onto the floor. In eight seconds, she had the wire secured tightly around his arms.

  “Nicely done,” Seth’s voice was muffled by the carpet. “You have two minutes and forty-three seconds to keep me restrained.”

  She rolled him over on his back.

  “Good idea,” he said in a strained voice, and looked down to watch her sit on his chest. “Even better,” he laughed.

  She sat there, waiting. No point in imitating the rest of it.

  “I’ve got a little movement at one minute twenty-seven seconds.” He twitched a shoulder to demonstrate.

  “But Johnny won’t heal that fast,” she reminded him.

  “Probably not,” he grimaced. “Feeling’s coming back.”

  “Good.” Tanya pulled the box cutter from her bra and extended the blade fully.

  Seth managed to tilt his head down. “Tatiana, what is that for?”

  “Clean cuts heal faster,” she quoted. “But if I keep cutting your throat, over and over, eventually you’ll bleed out. Do you think that will kill you?”

  He swallowed. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, staring at the blade, which shimmered in the light from the fireplace. “But I suppose we’ll find out.”

  She pressed the fine edge of the blade against his throat, and a drop of deep crimson sprung up to meet it with almost no pressure. The smell of it tickled her nose, threatening to distract her, but her whole focus was on Seth. Watching his face, she saw no fear, no anger. Just resignation.

  “Goddammit, Seth!” she screamed. “At least give me the satisfaction of hearing you beg for your life!”

  He laughed, and she thought it was the saddest sound she had ever heard. “I would give you anything, Tatiana. If it’s my life you want, then it’s yours to take.”

  Yelling wordlessly, she lifted the blade high. He only closed his eyes. She clenched the blade, willing her hand downwards, but it didn’t move. She knew it wasn’t him stopping her, either. With a sob, she threw the box cutter across the room and punched him in the face instead.

  “I hate you so much!” She punched him again with the other hand, knocking off his stupid glasses. “Why would you just let me kill you?”

  “Because I don’t want to live like this either!” He shouted, suddenly angry. It was enough to still her upraised hand. “I never imagined you would hate me! I don’t know what I’ve done to—”

  “Fuck you!” She let her fist fly. “You know exactly what you did. You took everything from me, and you expect me to thank you for it!”

  “I never asked—”

  “Oh, bullshit!” She struck him a fourth time and split his lip. The smell of his blood filled the room. “You asked for perfect, unthinking obedience. After what you did to me! After everything you put me through!” Tears began streaming down her face.

  “Tanya, I—I—” he coughed from the blood running back down his nose.

  “Just shut the fuck up,” she sobbed, and crushed her lips against his.

  Seth made a sound of pain and surprise and then groaned when she buried her hands in his hair, her tongue stabbing at his. She shifted down until her hips were aligned with his, grinding against him forcefully. She didn’t care that his hands were still trapped behind his back. She hoped it hurt.

  She pulled back to rip his shirt open and dug her nails deep into his gorgeous chest. He arched against her, cursing in an unfamiliar tongue. “Tanya!”

  “I said shut up!” She slapped him across the face, and he closed his jaw with an audible click. Silently he watched with wide eyes as she yanked his belt away and shoved a hand down his pants. She wasn’t gentle, but he responded anyway, quickly growing hard in her grip. He gasped for air as she shoved his pants down over his hips, and then went back to grinding against his bare skin. The fabric of her thong was already wet, and she slid against him easily.

  Wrapping one hand around his neck, she used the other to move that last barrier aside and then pressed him deep inside her. Seth’s mouth opened wide as he arched hard against her, lifting both of them off the ground momentarily. She leaned forward to catch her balance and kissed him hard again. God, how she’d missed the taste of his mouth, and his blood mingled in only sweetened it.

  Tanya gasped when she felt his hands, slick with his own blood, grab her waist. She grabbed his arms, but instead of stopping her he used his grip to slam into her, making her cry out. He roughly shoved her shirt up, and she pulled it the rest of the way off, along with her bra. He grabbed her breasts hard, smearing blood on them, and then sat up to lick it back off.

  “Seth,” she gasped, gripping his hair tightly as he scraped his teeth across one nipple.

  With a growl, he flipped them over, and Tanya’s head hit the carpet with a muffled thud. He grabbed her arms and pinned them above her, thrusting mercilessly.

  “All I ever wanted was you,” he hissed next to her ear. “Every. Last. Inch. Of you.” He punctuated each word with another thrust.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist tightly and wriggled one of her arms out of his blood-slick grip so she could yank his head back down to kiss her. Their teeth clicked together, and she moaned, dragging her nails down his back.

  Seth shifted, and the new angle made her see stars. “Oh, yes Seth! Just like that!”

  He pressed on, harder, faster, and pushed her right over the edge. She screamed, clenching hard around him. As she caught her breath, he kissed and licked one side of her neck.

  Flipping them over, Tanya throttled him and rode him freely. They were close to the fireplace now, and sweat rolled down her back. She watched his expression as she pushed him harder, relished the helpless pleasure that wracked his face and body. It wasn’t long before he came too, spilling into her with a strangled cry.

  Breathless, she pressed her forehead against his. She continued grinding against him, but her movements were slow and sensuous now. Seth cupped her face with his hands and kissed her gently several times.

  “This is what I want from you Tanya,” he whispered.

  She chuckled hoarsely, removing her hands from his neck. There were bruises where her fingertips had been, and his healing abilities were fighting against a rapidly spreading black eye. “Really? This?”

  He smiled wryly. “Alright, maybe not all of it quite like that, but this, right now. What can I possibly give you in return, for such a sweet thing?”

  She sighed heavily and rolled away from him. Adjusting her panties and skirt, she grabbed her shirt and stood on shaky legs. “My freedom,” she said softly.

  And she left him there, on the floor, half destroyed.

  32

  The next evening, Tanya woke early to the sound of a knock on the door. It was not Beatrice, this time. She flung the covers aside, stomped across the room,
and wrenched the door open. Before Seth could say a word, she decked him hard.

  To her surprise, he didn’t block the strike, retaliate, or even comment. He just slowly turned his head back to face her. The sorrow in his expression tossed a bucket of water on the fire of her anger.

  “What do you want?” she asked warily.

  “Let’s go kill Johnny the Fox,” he suggested.

  She paused, chewing her lip. “Yeah, okay.” She closed the door and got ready. Was it a coincidence that the first dress she laid a hand on was the one she wore when she met Justin? She didn’t think so. It was flashy enough to be club-ready, but full and short enough that it was easy to move in. Perfect.

  On her way down, she stopped at Beatrice’s open door.

  “We’re going,” she said shortly, unsure of her new found acceptance.

  “God go with you,” Beatrice nodded solemnly. “I’ll pray for you.”

  Tanya gave a wry smile. “Every little bit helps, I suppose.”

  When she came downstairs, Seth held her coat open for her to put on. She let him help her, and found in one pocket the blackjack and piano wire, cleaned of his blood.

  In the other was Shaun’s box cutter.

  She clenched her hand around it, unsure how she felt about the gesture. “About last night...”

  “Yes?” His eyes met hers eagerly.

  “It never happened.”

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “If that is what you wish,” he agreed sorrowfully.

  Tanya nodded. “Let’s do this.”

  “We would like an audience with Master Johnny, please,” Seth asked the bouncer politely. He was not a short man, but he had to look up into the young vampire’s eyes, and the bouncer weighed at least twice as much. Power wasn’t everything—in a fight, mass gave a definite advantage. Johnny had chosen well.

  “And you are?” The giant of a man crossed his arms, intimidating.

  “Seth.” He fished his card out of his jacket pocket.