Silent Cravings

by E. Blix

  He’d truly hoped that Christoph would have been the one to come with him tonight. He would have been useful. The girl would make for good leverage in negotiations, but he wasn’t entirely sure the Los Angeles-based pack of werewolves would have anything he might want. If they didn’t, of course he’d hold her to the five year arrangement. However, unless he invested more of his resources into her, she wouldn’t be useful to him for months. Even so, she might not even be truly valuable to him until she returned to her pack.

  Royce was well aware of the dangers the Goliath Weres posed to his kind. He’d have to weigh the benefits of having a groomed contact in the pack later versus any immediate monetary gains and potential retaliation from the intense hatred stirred up by his actions. A very small part of him felt a thrill of fear at the idea of deliberately provoking the Goliath alpha: a Were who had survived for centuries by dining on the blood and flesh of vampire-kind. An act so heinous and unclean, it made the undead seem positively normal by comparison.

  The rest of him was delighted by the possibilities. Either way, he’d have to do everything he could to make sure she came around, viewing him with the awe and adoration the rest of his people held him in. It would be gradual, of course, but he was confident he could sway her over time.

  “If there is anything you need, tell Mouse and she will inform me. Before I leave, is there anything you require? Anything to eat? Something picked up from where you were staying with Christoph, perhaps?”

  Mutely, Analie shook her head, closing her eyes to stem the flow of tears trickling down her cheeks. At least they couldn’t see her cry with her back turned to them both.

  “Very well. I’ll leave you to get settled. I’ll check back with you tomorrow evening.”

  The two vampires left her, Royce shutting the door to let her have her moment of grief in peace and solitude. Once the futility of the situation settled in, he could start building her up as he desired. He’d start by offering her a substitute for the warmth and affection she was used to getting from her pack by keeping her busy and surrounded with his people. Once she saw they were not mindless slaves doing his bidding, but living and unliving people who were—for the most part—genuinely happy to have his favor and protection, she’d see it was not so bad to be beholden to him.

  If he cultivated the image of himself as the equivalent of the “pack alpha” in her mind, eventually she’d answer to him the way she would any dominant wolf in her pack. He would give her every creature comfort he could spare, save for what might aid her in escape or as leverage against him when she returned to her pack. He’d handle all of her needs the same as he did with any of his donors, ensuring she had the best of everything so as to instill a sense of gratitude and desire to exchange something for all that he would freely provide. Soon she’d start looking for someone to come to with her problems or questions; he assumed Mouse could serve in that capacity, since he’d forbid contact between Analie and any humans under his employ without the strictest of supervision. Coupled with the inevitable pack-minded desperation for interaction, he calculated it might take between one and three months for her to start seeing him as a potentially benevolent protector, and another six months to a year to turn her fear of him into adoration and loyalty.

  If he guided her education properly, she may even be grateful for that. Once her attitude toward him loosened, he’d see that she did spend time getting to know all of his people and not just a handful of select vampires and humans. Maybe enough to let her befriend some of them. In addition to making her feel like a part of the group instead of an unwanted outsider, it would make her hesitant to hurt any of them in the future, perhaps even enough to stand up to any demands for attack or retaliation by her alpha. That wouldn’t happen for quite a while yet. Not until he was certain she no longer saw him as the bogeyman or some uncaring jailor.

  His brows were knotted as Mouse walked him to the door. Analie might also withdraw into herself like a lone wolf, but Royce thought that the mix of lessons and his personal attention to her education would be adequate safeguard. As he opened the door, he paused, looking back at Mouse. She was watching him with narrowed eyes. No doubt she’d thought this through much the same as he had. He trusted her to forward his ends for she, too, was old enough to know the danger the Goliath werewolves posed if the girl was not handled properly.

  “Check in on her after a bit and make sure she’s all right, would you?”

  Mouse curled her lip, glancing in the direction of the girl’s room. She could smell the thick, rank musk of Were from where she stood, along with the barest hint of salt tears. She didn’t like the idea of offering comfort or aid to one of the Goliath pack. If anyone other than Alec had suggested she do as much, she’d have happily gutted them. While he made some rash decisions now and again, she would trust his judgment and follow him to the deepest pits of the nether hells if he asked.

  Nodding shortly, she watched the elder go, the satisfaction in his expression briefly giving her pause. He had some devious plans in mind, as usual.

  Rolling her eyes, she headed to her own room, picking up the book she’d been reading before John came by to tell her about the new “guest”. Settling into the plush, rumpled blankets on her bed, laying on her stomach with her booted feet dangling off the edge, she tried concentrating on the novel instead of the alien scents invading her living space. That the girl had been crying meant little to her. No one had answered her cries while Max Carlyle tore her apart every day for twenty years, nor in the years to follow when she had no voice left to plead with. The wolf’s separation from her family had a time limit attached, and she would not be ill treated while she was here. Mouse had no pity for her.

  At least, that’s what she told herself as her keen eyes refused to stay focused on the page in front of her. Her gaze drifted over the rest of the room, taking in the bookshelves, the scattered crystal and porcelain figurines on the dresser, the overabundance of stuffed animals and frilly pillows on the bed and covering the loveseat against the far wall. Her bedroom was as feminine and inviting as her living room was austere and threatening. The utilitarian purpose for having so many weapons readily at hand had to do with being the last line of defense before any invading force might take the upper floors. If necessary, she could hold the hall single-handed against an army of invaders long enough for backup to come from upstairs and take up arms as well. While the main room of her home was a “public” portion of the building, set up for the overall good of the inhabitants, her bedroom was sacrosanct and filled with enough hidden weaponry to put what was visible on the walls outside to shame.

  Her last roommate, Ari, was one of the first vampires Alec had turned. Alec had met Ari in Cairo when he was traveling on business, and subsequently bonded, then later turned him. Ari had stayed by Royce’s side faithfully for six centuries, helping him build and hold his own territories and wealth, but eventually wanted to return to Egypt. Alec had let him go, and Ari sporadically travelled back and forth from Europe to Africa and back as he built up his own interests and bloodline.

  He hadn’t settled in Luxor until the mid-1800s, and helped build up the tourist trade with money from his investments in his interests throughout Greece, Rome, Spain, England, Egypt, Libya, Morocco, and Sudan. He still paid tribute to his sire, supplementing Royce’s already considerable fortune as Royce, in turn, did the same with his own sire.

  Ari had returned to Royce’s side for some time to recoup his losses when another elder forced him out, killing his minions, and usurping his rule of Luxor. Royce had offered to aid him take back his city, but Ari had wanted to do it himself. The usurper had taken it through trickery, making his move while Ari was away on a business trip. Royce’s prodigy took some time to formulate an appropriate counterattack and left as soon as he was ready. Mouse had regretted his leaving, for he was a powerful ally.

  She didn’t hold it against him for wa
nting to retake his city. She was not fool enough to think she had yet accumulated the wealth, the contacts, or the stability to hold one of her own. She was older than Royce’s second, but the damage done to her physically and mentally by Max might prevent her from ever having the will or desire to hold a city herself or even act as a master vampire’s second. For now, she was content, and would be so as long as she felt she could flee to Royce for protection if ever Max Carlyle tried to take her back.

  She looked at the fuzzy teddy bear with the button eyes and lush, soft fur that Ari had given her. He’d told her to hold it close when she took her day-sleep so that she might have something to remember him by until the day he returned. They both knew he might not ever come back, but the ancient elder had been one of the few to ever see her bedroom and the softer things she privately allowed herself. Even her personally selected donors never came to her bed; the most they saw of her apartment was the living room outside.

  The bear was the only doll she rested with. She put the book down and reached for it, tugging the plush toy close. It still had a trace of his scent, fading, but there. With a long-suffering sigh, heard only as a hissed exhalation of air, she slowly rose from the bed and trudged out of the room.

  She paused when she reached Ari’s—no, Analie’s—bedroom, listening for any signs that the girl was up and about. The salt from her tears was still on the air.

  Mouse looked down at the bear dangling from her hand. The button eyes gleamed up at her, its simple smile made of yarn curved serenely under the nose of soft felt mocking in its simplicity.

  She bared her fangs for a moment, a touch of anger glittering in her eyes. With a low hiss, she dropped the bear before the door, tapping on it lightly before hurrying back to her own room.

  It was a poor substitute for family or friends, but perhaps it would help the girl sleep better, just as it had helped Mouse.

  Chapter Five

  Christoph stood stiff as a board in front of a pay phone down a lonely, dismal New York street. The roads were unfamiliar, the scents numbered too many, and he was feeling like he’d been kicked in the nuts and had his nose rubbed in his own ego.

  The phone in his hand was ringing. On the seventh ring he hung up. At least he was getting further into the phone call. Last time it had been three rings. He picked up the phone and dialed again.

  Ring...ring...ring...ring...ring...rin—

  “I have twenty-one missed calls from this number. Speak or I will track you down and take pleasure in eating you.”

  Christoph almost hung up again. Instead an involuntary cough of respect forced its way out of his throat. He sounded more congested than mindful of his elders. And this was the second most important elder he would ever speak with.

  “Hello, sir.” His voice was strained, thin.

  “Christoph? How goes the meet-and-greet?” Gregory asked.

  “That’s what I’m calling about. Is—is Gavin nearby?”

  “No, he’s at home.” Gregory paused. Suspicion colored his voice. “Why? What happened? Where is the cub?”

  Enjoying indentured servitude under a vampire, Christoph thought bleakly. His mouth was dry, knees weak.

  “There’s been a sort of... thing.”

  “A thing? What thing? What the hell is going on out there?” Gregory snarled. Literally snarled.

  There was no way around it. “The vampire I fought in the convenience store showed up again on the subway. We tussled again so now he’s looking for amends, and he figured having Analie around for the next five years or so would be good.”

  There was a long silence. Then Christoph jerked the phone away from his ear as a ravening, furious, murderous roaring exploded from the receiver. It sounded like Gregory had shifted. It took him a long while to calm down and shift back so he could speak.

  “Five YEARS? Servitude? Under a vampire? What in Seeker’s name have you done? What did the alphas have to say?”

  “No,” Christoph said, his voice little more than a thin whimper.

  “FUCK YOU TO THE PITS OF AGOTHAR!”

  Christoph didn’t know what the Pits of Agothar were, but he figured they couldn’t be a very nice place at all.

  “She’s Gavin’s cub. She’s his daughter by everything but blood! You lost Gavin’s cub and a stake in New York. New-fucking-York!” Gregory was panting, snarling. “Okay, fine. Future territory lost. We’ll think about that later. The cub is our priority. Where is she? Do you know? Is this the same guy you killed?”

  This conversation could not get any worse.

  “Y-yeah, same one. Um... it’s a guy. He’s sorta well-known.”

  “Who? What did you do, Christoph?”

  Christoph’s voice constricted into a strained whisper. “Alec Royce.”

  The sound that came from the other end of the line was positively incoherent. Christoph covered his face with his free hand. It took some time before Gregory could speak again, and his voice had taken on a tone of icy, barely controlled rage.

  “Alec Royce. You lost Gavin’s cub to Alec Royce. Bad enough she’s a slave to a leech, now you’ve gone and handed her over to the most powerful leech in the country. Brilliant. Wonderful. If you call Gavin, I am not responsible for what happens to you.”

  “Wait—you’re not going to tell him?” Christoph asked, stunned.

  “Tell him? Are you insane? No, to Gavin, Analie is doing fine. Her stay in New York was requested by the alphas and condoned by ours. They find her charming. She is learning more about the New York Weres. She is enjoying her stay. She sends her love. Whatever. Gavin will not find out about this unbelievable fuck-up until after she is home. Get yourself out of New York before your temper causes any other disasters.”

  “I can fix this,” Christoph protested. “It isn’t a disaster!”

  “If it isn’t, then what the hell qualifies?”

  Christoph sputtered, but didn’t have a good answer.

  “Just drag your sorry ass back to California and don’t cause any trouble. Keep your mouth shut and stay away from Gavin so he doesn’t know you lost his cub!”

  Ashi had a full week. First there was declaration of war with another local pack. He had been informed that there was a possibility he would need to go to New York with some other warriors, though he wasn’t pleased that he didn’t rank an answer why. Then that cub-hide started, along with the requisite bitching from the parents.

  Lastly, Ashi had been ordered to stay out of the local fighting, but to be on hand just in case. He had been disgruntled with that mandate, but he was not one to make waves or start trouble because he didn’t have his way. He had no intention of questioning the alpha. But he was very surprised when Christoph returned from New York sans Gavin’s pup and in a state Ashi could only think to call shell-shock.

  Christoph was as stereotypical a Goliath as they came. He wanted to climb ranks, bash heads, mate, and look good while doing it. Lately he’d been tagging along with Ashi and helping him out, which had afforded Christoph an instant jump in rank. Ashi found the big guy to be useful, not only because Christoph was running packages for him free of charge, but also because it paid to have big, strong friends.

  Christoph wouldn’t talk about what had happened. Ashi thought some intimidation tactics would work, but something was holding Christoph in check that even Ashi couldn’t thrash out of him. The next logical thing to do was get him drunk. Christoph liked football, chips, and beer. It was easy enough to grab a bag of chips, a jar of salsa, and enough beer to drown a dozen sailors, and tote it over to Christoph’s place during the game.

  Christoph’s roommate, Manny, was out fighting at the time. The prospect of company bringing him free beer to drink himself into a stupor was very appealing to Christoph.

  Once Christoph got tipsy, he started to talk. He was vague—something had happened in New
York that was a Very Bad Thing. Further into the game, the chips forgotten, the score meaningless, he talked about vampires and far-off packs. Ashi began to piece together the story. Christoph had screwed up, leaving the cub in the hands of a vampire. Ashi didn’t know a lot about vampires, but he knew that it was a horrifying situation. If Gavin found out, there would be another war. The cub’s keeper would pull something very stupid indeed if he thought his pup was in any danger.

  No wonder he had been given the order to be prepared to travel.

  Bringing the cub home was obviously a good idea, but not when followed by a pack of leeches. Clearly, Ashi would need to take down this Alec Royce and then bring Analie home. It would be quite the feather in his cap.

  It took Ashi two weeks to sort everything out and formulate a plan, including how he would get Christoph to come with him. Ordering him to go would be out of the question—Christoph could go to a higher-ranking Were than Ashi and rat him out.

  Football would be Christoph’s downfall.

  Once his plan was formulated, Ashi returned to Christoph’s apartment during another big game. He made sure Christoph was good and drunk before working him into a sports-fueled frenzy. Once Christoph was a testosterone-and-alcohol-laden meathead, Ashi enthusiastically outlined his plan in short sentences and simple words.

  The idiot’s immediate reaction was, “Fuck yeah! Let’s kick some ass!”

  The drive to the airport was similarly enthusiastic. By the time they got through security, Christoph was starting to wind down. By the time they boarded, Christoph was almost asleep on his feet as his body frantically metabolized enough alcohol to kill a human. Ashi hadn’t had anything to drink and simply acted as Christoph’s handler.

  It was at the tail end of the flight that Christoph woke up, vomited violently in a bathroom he didn’t quite fit in, and returned to his seat in a sort of stupor. He was silent, acknowledging Ashi with only a respectful cough. Ashi paid him no mind, instead going over his masterful plot.