Nine by Night: A Multi-Author Urban Fantasy Bundle of Kickass Heroines, Adventure, & Magic

by SM Reine

  “Get ready, wolfman,” Rafe says. “We don’t want you struggling to shift in the back of the rented Benz.”

  Wolfman, eh? Is that how he wants to play this? Cheeky bastard. Bet I could take his big muscle-bound ass in a heartbeat. Then again, that could be the vamp blood talking. He’s got something lurking in his eyes when you look closely, and strangely, it reminds me of staring into the eyes of a live wolf. I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and retreat to the second bedroom.

  I leave the door slightly ajar so I can open it in wolf form—only takes locking yourself in a room two or three times, and the subsequent replacing of the door with a new one later, to drive the habit into your brain. I attach the expensive studded collar to my neck, leaving the clasp on the last notch so the leather won’t be too stifling. A collar. Jesus. Is this what I’ve come to?

  Yup. And you asked for it buddy. Might as well quit your bitching and take it like a man.

  I strip, putting the clothes in a bag so we can stow it in the back seat when I revert back to human at our departure. Once my tiny tasks are completed, I take a deep breath, centering myself.

  The vampire blood coursing through my body feels exhilarating and I have a hunch the change will come on me faster than normal. The mere thought of running free in the woods calls my wolf to the surface with lightening speed. In the span of two heartbeats I’m forced to the floor, and fur washes over my altered shape. For the first time since I was attacked last year, there is no agony in the transformation. None at all.

  I give my head a shake and marvel at the joy that washes through me at the lack of pain. A small yip of happiness erupts and I duck my head, embarrassed by the outburst. I wait a little bit, hoping Rafe and Dria didn’t hear me, and then use my mouth to grab the handles of the duffle containing my clothes.

  I trot into the main living area of the hotel suite, bag in mouth, to see Rafe pacing the floor. He turns to me with a stern look, raises one eyebrow and says, “You’ll do.” He glances over his shoulder, toward the room Dria is changing in, and then back to me. “Make sure she comes back okay or I’ll go in and kill the whole lot of you, vamps and Weres alike.” His eyes darken as he takes a step toward me. “Fire will wipe out this problem just as easily.”

  I drop the bag and my hackles rise. A low growl starts in my throat. What the hell? I thought this big bastard was on my side.

  “Finding my attitude contradictory, are you?” The tall man shrugs. “First and foremost, I care only about the safety of my wife. Sure, I was the one who helped talk her into helping you, but I’ll never forgive myself if you two are walking into something dangerous and I’m stuck back here, twiddling my damn thumbs.”

  Dria takes that moment to make her entrance, sweeping out of the adjoining room like a debutant entering her first ball. The black gown she’s wearing hugs her ample curves, showcasing what nature gave her to its absolute best.

  “Now, now, darling. Have faith in me.” The smile on her mouth is coy and relaxed. “The day I can’t handle a few misguided vampires is the day I give up to the sun for good.”

  She strolls across the room, attention focused on her husband. “Will you promise to remain behind?”

  “Only if you promise to keep our connection open, no matter what. If you shut me out I’ll snag Jon’s jeep and be out there in ten minutes.”

  She stands on her tip toes and kisses his mouth with tenderness and possession. “Yes, dear.”

  Rafe doesn’t look appeased, and stands with his arms crossed over his chest. “Every single second, Dria. Don’t test me.”

  She nods in his direction, then motions with her head toward the door. “Let’s go, Jon.” She grabs a small purse off the table, and jangles the keys in one hand. “Grab your bag, too.”

  I scoop up the duffle in my jaws and trot after her disappearing form.

  “Don’t forget what I said, furball. Watch out for her or I’ll kill you all.”

  I follow Dria to the sleek black Mercedes they rented. She opens the back door for me to jump in. I angle my head at her to convey my disapproval over her suggestion, but jump inside when she clears her throat.

  The back seat? Does she really think I’m going to sit here the whole trip? I drop the bag in the back, wait ’til she settles in the front, and then jump to the vacant passenger seat.

  “Oh, all right. You can sit in the front.” Her tone is light, like all of this is one big game. “But don’t mess up the upholstery, this is a rental.”

  Damn, this is weird. Maybe I should have changed into a wolf when we got there. I’m not used to interacting with people while in wolf form.

  The stunning vampire next to me reaches out a hand and ruffles the fur at my neck. “Don’t you worry, we’ll be fine.” She smiles into the growing darkness while driving. “Until you learn to shield better, I don’t even have to try and pick up your thoughts. It’s like they are written in red neon over your head.”

  I snort loudly, dipping my head toward the dash. Does that mean the other vampires can read my thoughts, too?

  “Good job! That was a deliberate projection on your part, wasn’t it? The words came through loud and clear. If you want to tone down your internal musings so I can’t pick them up so easily you’d do much better around the other vamps. So—shall we talk about what’s going to go down when we get there?”

  I concentrate on my agreement as “loudly” as I can, Yes.

  “I’ve been to many blood brothels in the past. They haven’t been common for over a hundred years, so that tells me the guy running this setup is at least one hundred years undead. Not sure what prompted him to try something that’s been outlawed for so long. Maybe he thinks no one will find him here in Virginia.” She shakes her head. “Fool. He’s calling way too much attention to himself.”

  She turns onto the highway and begins the short trip to Cecil’s mansion. “First off, we’re strolling right up like we own the place and deserve to be there. If I recognize anyone things will move faster than I’d like, meaning I will have to strike to end this mess and get out of there quickly. But if no one knows who I am, we should be good to mingle for a little bit and get a feel where all the wolves are so we can free them.”

  Knows who you are?

  “Yup. You, my dear sweet wolfman, sniffed out yourself an ex-enforcer.” At my lack of comment she continues. “I used to dole out justice for the Tribunal of Ancients, the vampire race’s governing body. Usually they’d send someone like me after a rogue vamp—a vampire who kills indiscriminately or puts our species in danger with his or her actions.”

  And your husband is worried you might not come back?

  “No, not really. He gets like that whenever he’s not by my side during a fight. Can’t blame him, I’d probably react the same way.” She glances at me sideways and then returns hers eyes to the road to take the next turn. “You do realize I’m going to have to kill Cecil tonight, right? There’s no way to cure someone this far gone.”

  As long as we can save the wolves I don’t care how many vampires have to die.

  “Present company excluded, of course, right?” She doesn’t even look at me on that one. “We’re not all as bad as he is, you know. Humans would hunt vampires down and kill us, like they almost did during the Spanish Inquisition. Poor witches got all the blame, but a lot of supernatural species were under fire during that crazy time.”

  We turn down back roads, slowing our pace to follow the speed limit. “Now, what I’ll do with the visiting vampires who have called on Cecil while we’re there... that I haven’t decided yet.” The look on her face becomes distant. “Kill them all or alter their minds? I’ll have to see when I get there.”

  The casual tone she uses to announce the imminent demise of her own kind chills me to the bone. Wolves kill to eat or defend their pack and den, not simply because it needs to be done. How do I feel about aligning myself with a cold blooded killer?

  “Did I seem so cold blooded when you spied on me making love to
my husband?” Quiet fills the space between us. “Or when I saved that child from falling into the wading pool? You know, when you thought I was going to eat the toddler?” I duck my head and glance out the window.

  “I may not be a mindless beast, but I never walk away from what needs to be done—no matter how heartless I must become to finish the job.”

  We travel in silence a few more minutes, apprehension filling my gut. What have I done by agreeing to serve this woman? Have I stepped into more than I can handle?

  “I’ll need you to follow my lead when we get there. Act meek and subservient, don’t make eye contact with Cecil or the other vampires. Can you do that?”

  Yes.

  We pull into the gravel drive, the apprehension from before swirling into a larger mass of fear. If we can’t save these wolves tonight I don’t know what else to do.

  The large house comes into view, every window lit up like a huge party is taking place. Six other cars line the circular drive in front of the house.

  Dria parks the car and leans toward me, lowering her voice. “We’ll walk away from this fine, don’t you worry.” Surprisingly, she has no problem smiling while I sit here worried I’m going to puke. “You wondered who you agreed to serve?” The cold look I saw returns. “I am death. And no one escapes death.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Dria exits the vehicle, holding open the door for me to jump out. She wraps one delicate hand around the studded collar and whispers, “Don’t leave my side tonight. It’s the only way I can ensure your safety.”

  I nod once, conveying I understand. Will I be able to hold back if I see Raine in danger?

  “If you don’t, you run the risk of ruining the whole plan.” She gives my collar a jerk and then releases. “Think on that long and hard, numb nuts. Those alpha tendencies can get in the way and destroy the whole pack if you’re not careful. Don’t make me regret agreeing to help.”

  We walk to the front door and Dria rings the bell. A young blond woman, skinny to the point of looking anorexic, answers the door, a bright, forced smile on her face.

  “Welcome to the V V Inn. Please, come in.”

  Dria’s back stiffens at the woman’s words. The hand resting on my back fists in the fur. “Interesting name. May I ask where it came from?”

  The skinny blonde shrugs, the smile on her face faltering. “I’m not sure. Cecil, the owner, said it means something to the vampire community.” The young werewolf locks eyes with me, trying to convey something—what I’m not sure. Maybe it’s simply a warning from one Were to another to get out while I can.

  “Yes,” Dria says with a strained smile. “I’ve heard of it before. Hadn’t realized there was a... branch here in Virginia.”

  “I take it this is your first time here?”

  Dria nods her head regally. “Yes, it is.”

  “My name is Tara, I can show you around.”

  Tara leads us into the large foyer with two formal rooms branching off both sides. Midway into the house an elaborate staircase winds upward, and further back, a hall leads to more rooms.

  Tara waves to the right with her toothpick arm. “Inside you’ll find the parlor, where guests mingle with the available Weres, selecting a partner if one has not been prearranged.” Dria nods and steps forward to glance about the room. Sticking close to her side as instructed, I follow, and see more than I’d bargained for.

  Several slim werewolves lounge on heavy leather furniture, their gazes empty and unfocused. How much of their minds have been ruined by the constant control Cecil exerts on them? Can they heal from such damage and live a normal life?

  Rage boils under my skin and I start to shake, minimally at first with the shudders gradually increasing as I try and hold still. The alpha in me calls for revenge, and a red haze of violence colors my vision, urging me to leap and tear out the throats of the nearby vampires ogling the emaciated wolves.

  The studded collar around my neck is painfully jerked by Dria, the hard edge of the stitched leather digging into my airway. I glance up at her to see she’s eyeing the vampires in the room, ignoring me completely, but obviously aware of my distress.

  One vampire selects a slender man in his early twenties. He picks up the delicate leash dangling from the Were’s navy blue collar and leads the unresisting Were out of the room toward the stairs. He ignores us in passing, but Dria studies him carefully as they exit.

  When he’s gone, her bright green gaze lingers on every bloodsucker in the room, like she’s trying to place their identity or memorizing their appearance for a later purpose. There’s a calmness emanating from her that feels down right spooky. I wish we had talked about more of an actual plan than “follow my lead” before we got here.

  Who am I kidding? I’m basically at her mercy however you cut it.

  Wow. Talk about humbling.

  A chill races up my spine and this time it has nothing to do with my impotent feelings of rage at my fellow Were’s treatment. Who should be able to wield such power over others? Isn’t there an old saying that absolute power corrupts absolutely?

  Dria kneels by my side, a deadly smile on her face, and whispers in my ear. “There’s always someone more powerful who can knock you off your perch—even if you’re me. Never forget it and you don’t have to worry about corruption. You’ll be too afraid watching your own back.”

  Turning her private tete ala tete with me into a show of something else, she says in a louder voice, “Which one do you think I should pick, my dear? They all look a little… tired.”

  Before I decide what she expects me to do at her question, she stands, dismissing me as if we never spoke.

  Tara senses the difference in Dria’s appraising stare around the room and says, “We have one or two that might appeal to you better. You could talk to Cecil and arrange something.”

  A huge smile spreads across the redhead’s features. “Meet Cecil? Why thank you, Tara. What a wonderful idea.”

  Tension slips from the blond Were, pleased she did something right in the growing tension. She leads us out of the room toward the back of the building. The disturbing sounds of a nearby feeding vampire and forced pleasure from a donor chase us down the hall, tightening my gut and fueling me with the urge to rip and maim.

  Dria’s hand fists in my fur again, and then softens, smoothing the raised hackles I can’t control in my distress. Tara meanders down a long hall and stops in front of a shut door. She raps once and waits.

  “Yes?” a male voice calls from within.

  “I’ve got a new visitor who would like to speak with you about selecting donors not in the lounge tonight.”

  “Come in.”

  Tara opens the door and steps back, her body language projecting she’s eager to avoid being in the room with either party, if she can.

  Dria steps through the doorway with her head held high, her mane of lush copper waves spilling down her back. A large desk occupies one end of the room, with a small sitting area in front of it. The vampire who chased me into the night a week ago stands behind the desk, a fake smile plastered on his face. He steps around the desk and motions with one arm for us to sit in one of the chairs.

  “Welcome. Please, take a seat.”

  My shoulder brushes up against her thigh as Dria walks to a high-backed chair and sits.

  “My name is Cecil and I’m the owner of the V V Inn.” He settles across from Dria, crossing his legs. “Tara mentioned our current selection tonight didn’t spark your interest.” He glances at me with a flick of dismissal. “Surely, if your servant isn’t enough to satisfy your need, you’d be content with whomever was willing, no?”

  A coldness enters Dria tone. “That would assume your donors were willing, wouldn’t it?”

  Cecil sits straighter in his seat. “I resent your implication. Our donors are willing. Ask them.”

  Her calculating gaze narrows on the larger man, not a trace of fear or doubt evident in her. “We all know how easily agreement can be coerced, don’
t we?” Dria scoots to the edge of her seat and extends her hand to the flustered vampire. “Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Alexandria McAndrews.”

  Her hand hangs in the air as Cecil’s mouth gapes and his pale skin whitens. “No… You can’t be…” He shuts his mouth and shrinks into his chair. “What are you doing here?”

  A vicious look of satisfaction crosses Dria’s face before she speaks. “Ah, I see you recognize the name, do you not?”

  “Are you the one they called ‘Alexandria the Great’?”

  Dria rises from her chair to stand over Cecil. “That depends on who you ask. By ‘they’, I take it you mean the Tribunal?” Cecil nods, his eyes tracking Dria’s every minuscule movement. She looks around his office, then brings her eyes back to his flinching features. “Interesting set up you’ve got here. I wonder what they would think of it.” She begins to pace in her agitation, back and forth in front of the tense vampire.

  “I’m not breaking any laws,” Cecil says, forced bravado coloring his tone. I can smell the stink of fear coming off him in waves. This is getting interesting. Why would her name and reputation scare him so much?

  Dria whips around and points an accusing finger his way. “You are doing something far worse. You have imprisoned these wolves and manipulated their minds to do your bidding. You pimp them out in an old-style blood brothel and think no one will notice?” Her hand drops to her side as her chest heaves in anger. “You think hiding behind a technicality that the laws weren’t written to include werewolves would save you?”

  “Blood brothel? This is no such thing. The V V Inn has been around for over a century, perhaps you never heard of it? We’re operating like we always have.”