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

by SM Reine

  “Won’t the firemen find their decapitated skeletons when they send in a fire investigator?”

  “Nope,” Rafe says. “Once the sun hits their bones, the remains will turn to dust.”

  “Why not just drag their bodies out to burn and save the house?”

  “Too much evil has been done in that house.”

  A snort of disbelief comes from me. Does this guy really believe all that crap?

  He looks at me sideways. “You think I’m joking. No amount of cleansing could save it and whoever lived in it afterwards would suffer.”

  “Seriously? That sounds like bullshit to me.”

  “Think what you want, furball. I’ve seen it in the past. It’s best to burn it and hope the next structure built here doesn’t occupy the same space. Just as good feelings can permeate the atmosphere of holy structures and scared spaces, same can be said about places were great evil has occurred.”

  “Whatever, man.”

  “Come on—surely you must be open to some kind of belief. After all, if you’d been told werewolves and vampires were real before your attack you never would have believed it, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Same thing applies here. Witches and witchcraft, wizards and fae, demons and even more shapeshifting creatures from various mythology than you ever guessed, all roam this earth—why not good and evil?”

  “I never thought about it too closely.” An uncomfortableness settles inside me. “Are those things true? Do all those… species really exist?”

  “Yup. Humans have never been the top predator. We just like to think we are.” Rafe tosses me the lighter and strides to the rented car.

  “That’s a depressing eye opener, man. Uh… thanks.”

  The taller man opens the car door and addresses me over the roof of the car. “It is what it is, Jon. Best you get used to the idea. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”

  I strike the lighter, the flame dancing in the fresh morning air of late spring. “Yeah. See you there.” I let the flame die as the couple drives away.

  As discussed, I’m going to light the blaze, make sure it takes where we need it and then put in a call to the firefighters. My cover story is going to be that I was driving alone on the isolated road when I saw the smoke. Staying here ’til I hear the sirens approach will ensure the fire doesn’t spread to the woods before they arrive.

  I head back to the front door of the mansion, regret washing through me at the loss of such a beautiful home. I flick the lighter on and off in my nervousness, twining through the house to light the spots Rafe indicated earlier.

  A part of me desires to visit the room upstairs one last time… the room were Raine died. But I resist. The brutality of that moment is not how I want to recall the slim young wolf. I light the accelerants as instructed and hightail it out the back door. Fires don’t run as rampant through a structure this large as one might think. All the doors on every floor are open to allow good air flow, but it still takes quite a while for the fire to reach the second floor.

  Once it looks exactly as Rafe described, I call 9-1-1. “I’d like to report a fire.”

  I knock on the couple’s hotel room door two hours later. I stopped off at my room first to eat, shower, and change clothes. I had to scrub three times to get the scent of the fire off of me. I debated on waiting until Rafe or Dria called me, but I have too many unanswered questions tumbling in my head.

  Why did she refuse my blood when I offered? Why did Rafe want to talk to me privately when Dria was sleeping? Do the two speak with some kind of telepathy? That’s got to be it, right? What else could those penetrating looks they exchange mean?

  Rafe answers the door and stands aside, waving me in. He looks tired and drawn, but determined, too. “Did you eat or should I order food?”

  “I’m good, thanks.” I settle on the small couch and wait for Rafe to take a chair across from me. “Where’s Dria?”

  He motions with his head toward a bedroom door. “She’s still sleeping. Be out for a few more hours I bet.”

  I nod, unsure of how to approach him with the questions swirling around in my mind. Straightforward might work best. I clear my throat. “So… do you two speak in each other’s minds?”

  “Yes, we do. It’s part of the mate bond we entered fifty-eight years ago.”

  I cough, choking on my own spit in astonishment. “Holy shit,” I say when my voice clears. “Did you say fifty-eight years ago?” Rafe smiles and nods. “How freaking old are you, man?”

  “I was past thirty when she finally agreed to bond with me.”

  “Damn, you look good for your age, you old fart.”

  “Ha-ha. Funny. Not.”

  “Oh, look at you, using modern phrases and everything.”

  Rafe shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Laugh all you want, furball. A supernatural’s ability to blend in will be what ultimately saves him or her from discovery.”

  “Look and sound like an ignorant sap and no one will notice you?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Why did you want me to come here when she was sleeping? I got the impression you two share everything.”

  He looks toward the window, the bright sun creeps higher in the sky, approaching its zenith. “We do communicate frequently when we’re awake, but we don’t always have the same opinions on everything. We are still individuals no matter how tightly we’re bound to each other.”

  “Are you telling me this so I’ll understand what it’s like when I bond with her and become her servant?”

  “No,” he rubs a hand over his face and lets out a deep sigh. “I’m telling you this because I know she plans to refuse your offer.”

  I sit up and lean toward him. “What do you mean by ‘refuse my offer’? She already fulfilled her end of the bargain. I’m ready to live up to mine.”

  “She won’t take you on as her servant because in the end, helping you was the right thing to do. Having you indebted to her for life to save the Weres doesn’t sit right with her.”

  A cold settles in the pit of my stomach. Things were so much easier when I knew what I was getting myself into. I have a feeling this is the part he meant when they don’t always share the same opinions. “But you feel differently, don’t you?”

  Rafe gets up and grabs a beer from the mini-bar. “Want one?”

  I shrug. “What the hell. I don’t have a job anymore. Might as well.”

  He tosses me a cold bottle and sits. “What was your impression of Dria today, when you saw her working on those Weres?”

  “She was strong, determined, and tireless. She forged ahead with each person, never stopping to think of herself or the consequences of draining her strength too much. She proved to be a much better vampire than any of those pathetic creatures she killed.”

  “My wife is not just a better vampire, or simply a strong woman, she is desperately trying to hold onto her humanity with both hands, loving me with every ounce of her being to save the goodness within her, the goodness that was hidden deep for many years.” He takes a long pull of his beer. “She needs me... and whether I like it or not, I think she needs you as well.”

  “Why me? Just for my werewolf blood?” A tiny part of me wants to ask why he doesn’t like the idea of her needing me, but I wisely keep my mouth shut. Might humble me if my wife needed another guy, too, for any reason.

  “Why do you think vampires crave an alpha’s blood over another Were?” he asks.

  “That’s pretty obvious. We’re more powerful.”

  “Yes, but it’s much more than that. You make them more powerful, too.”

  Confusion wrinkles my brow. “I get that, that’s why I offered to be her servant in the first place.”

  “Jon, that’s not what I mean. You are strong enough to help her hold onto her humanity with me. She will be forced to look outside herself, and us, to see to your needs, being sure to never use or abuse you. Taking you on as her vampire servant will make her more compa
ssionate and remind her of what it means to be human.”

  “Even though I’m not human anymore?”

  “Yeah, furball, even then.”

  “So if she doesn’t want me, what am I to do?”

  A steely edge creeps into his eyes. “You plan to fulfill your pledge, right?”

  I look around the room and gesture widely with my beer. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  His face sets is a cold and unforgiving mask. “A man with honor follows his word willingly, not begrudgingly.”

  I look away from his penetrating stare. God, he’s kind of creepy all on his own when he wants to be. “Alright,” I say on a sigh. “You made your point.”

  “Be sure, Jon. There’s no turning back. Do you want to serve a creature who walks the edge of darkness, clings to humanity by a thread, and will kill in the blink of an eye—or will you flee into the sun while she sleeps?”

  Rafe’s words give me pause. The only leader I had a lot of exposure to was Romeo. He did a fair job with the pack, but even he wouldn’t put his neck on the line to save his own kind—something Dria did wholeheartedly once she agreed to help.

  Out of everyone I’ve met in my time as a werewolf, she is the most honorable. A bloodsucking vampire. Who would have guessed?

  I turn back and meet his bright blue eyes. “It would be my honor to serve her.”

  “Good.” He stands and offers me his hand. We shake and a genuine smile creases his face. “I’ve got an idea on how to make this work. You’ll need to buy a lot of chocolate for this to go off smoothly.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “Chocolate, man. You heard me. She loves it and can’t eat it.” Rafe ushers me toward the door. “You need to buy a pound or more and eat it all before you come back.”

  “Um... I really don’t eat a lot of sweets.”

  “You need to eat it to tempt her into biting you.”

  Wait. I’m starting to get where he’s going with this. “You want me to eat all the chocolate so she can’t resist drinking my blood? Will that work?”

  “That paired with the insatiable hunger she will be feeling when she wakes for the day should do the trick.”

  Fear grips me. “You mean I need to get her to bite me when she’s starving? What if she loses control and drains me?”

  “Hah! Not going to happen, Jon. She’s going to fight her desires to drink from you the entire time, trust me.”

  “You won’t be here to supervise?”

  He shakes his head and opens the door. “Nope. I’ve got to be out of here or she’ll feed on me instead. Man up, Jon. You’re going to have to play to her vampire hunger to entice her to bite you.” He shoos me into the hall and props up the steel door with his body. “Combined with the blood she gave you earlier it will equate to a servant bond—assuming she drinks enough from you today. The lure of chocolate and the drain from altering the Were’s minds should do the trick.” He claps his hands together. “Hot damn. This may work after all.”

  He starts to close the door and panic grips me. What if I can’t get this to work? “Wait!” He hesitates before it shuts all the way and opens it again, eyebrows raised in question. “Any kind of chocolate in particular?”

  “Yeah. She likes dark best.”

  “Should I just come back here when I’m done?”

  “And be quick about it. I’m not sure when she’ll wake. I’ll leave when you get here.”

  My stomach feels bloated with all the chocolate I consumed. I don’t think any Halloween night or birthday party from my youth would rival what I voluntary shoved down my gullet this afternoon. Let’s hope mixing Hershey’s Special Dark with a couple of chasers of beer will do the trick.

  I knock on the couple’s hotel room door and glance nervously up and down the hall. Why do I feel like a cow being led to the slaughter house?

  Maybe because you intend for her to eat you?

  Panic grips me for a split second, but releases when Rafe swings open the door. He glances at his watch and gestures me in. “Good! Right on time. She should be waking soon. I can sense the change in her thought patterns. I was getting worried for a second that you might back out.”

  “I have to admit,” I say with a forced smile. “Scarfing down that second pound of chocolate almost made me change my mind.”

  “No serotonin rush? That’s supposed to be a ‘feel good’ hormone associated with eating chocolate.”

  I shake my head, raising a hand to press against my queasy middle. “With the first bar, maybe. After that, nope.”

  Rafe gives me a slip of paper with a phone number on it. “Here’s my cell. I’ll be in the gym for a while and then maybe hanging in the lobby. I don’t think you’ll need to call, but just in case.”

  I look around the empty living area. “Okay. What do I do until she gets up?”

  Rafe shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. “You’ve got to be tired, right? Why not take a nap on the couch.”

  The idea of sleeping when the hungry vampire fifteen feet away could wake at any time unsettles me. I shudder, but don’t voice my anxiety. “I’ll watch TV. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I’m not.” He begins to leave and hesitates, turning back. “Listen, Jon. Dria was right that you could lose a bit of yourself in the bond. It’s different for everyone.”

  “Did it happen to you?”

  “No, but I’m not her servant. I’m her mate. We won’t know for sure how you’re affected until it’s done.”

  “And then what happens?”

  “We deal with it.” And with that parting comment, he leaves.

  I return to the same couch I sat on a little while ago, debate on raiding the mini bar for liquid courage, but in the end I refrain and watch TV with the volume turned low. Somehow getting drunk when I’m trying to entice a vampire to bite me doesn’t sound like a good idea.

  There’s a rerun of some pivotal football game from last season on cable and watching it requires little effort on my part. Gradually, my full stomach and the constant running from the past week catch up with me and my eyes drift lower. A peaceful relaxed feeling descends upon me, luring me to imagine the next couple of hours won’t be so bad.

  With a jolt I awake, Dria’s intense green eyes staring at me from a few inches away. “What are you doing here, wolfman?”

  I sit up, fumbling to turn off the TV in my haste. “I’m here to honor my end of the bargain.”

  “Isn’t that interesting.” Her fangs are fully descended when she speaks, but she doesn’t lisp or stutter around the longer canines. “By my husband’s absence, it’s safe to guess he put you up to this?”

  “We spoke earlier, yes. But it’s the right thing to do. I made a promise and I intend to stand by it.”

  She waves off my words with a delicate gesture of one slim hand. “Pish-posh. You think I really care about that little deal we made?” She studies her perfect manicure. “You need to leave. Now.”

  “No.”

  Her gaze hardens, a glitter of her anger and restraint leaking in for me to witness. “Did you just tell me ‘no’?”

  I stretch out, putting my legs out in front of me, like I haven’t a care in the world. Damn, this provoking a vampire shit makes me feel like I’m walking a tightrope over a river filled with crocs and piranha. Feigning nonchalance is harder than I thought. “Yup, I did. Guess your well-trained husband doesn’t deny you much, huh Dria?”

  In a split second she leaps and pins me to the back of the couch. Her mouth opens wide, salvia dripping off her sharp teeth to splatter upon my cheek. “Don’t insult Rafe. He is no one’s lap-dog. Least of all, mine.”

  “Hey, you’re drooling there.” I casually wipe my cheek. “Might want to watch that.”

  A short scream rips from her as she pushes away from me, shoving me into the cushion in her frustration. “Goddammit, Rafe! Where the hell are you?!”

  She begins to pace back and forth across the room, her movement
s stiff and jerky.

  “Come on, Dria. Just bite me and take what you need.”

  “Is that what this is all about?” She whirls around to face me, her hunger straining her every muscle. “I can resist you if I must. I’ve survived worse hunger than this before.”

  “I’m sure you have.” I pat the couch next to me, indicating she should take a seat near me. She ignores me and goes back to pacing. “But why resist when you don’t have to? Why not let me take some of your burden and feed you from my strength?”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking!”

  I stand and approach her, still giving her a few feet safe distance. “Dria, look at me.” Her gaze flicks briefly in my direction then jerks away. “I do know what I’m offering. I’m offering to pledge myself to you. To let you gain strength from me to use when you need it. To fight by your side no matter what the future holds.”

  “You make it sound so noble.” She snorts. “Sounds like some shit Rafe filled you with.” She continues to pace, her nervous energy driving her relentlessly. “It’s not noble to lose your free will. It’s not noble to put your needs before someone else’s. It’s not noble to want to give until you die!”

  I reach out and grab her arm, hauling her around to face me. Her jaw snaps shut with a snarl. “It is when you trust the person you give your loyalty to.”

  She looks to the floor, her chest heaving. “You don’t know me enough to give that kind of trust.”

  I give her a shake and force her attention on me. “You think so? Let me tell you what I do know—you have a husband who has stood by your side for well over fifty years. Would you say he gave his loyalty to you on a whim?”

  “No, never. Rafe is different.” Her eyes gaze off into the distance, past my shoulder. “He has experienced pain and suffering. He lived a life before he sought me out. He came to me knowing exactly what he was getting into. His eyes were wide open and his heart was pure.”

  “Well, I have no idea what life he led before marrying you, but I know my heart and mind on this.” I reach over to the table where Rafe ate his meal and snag a steak knife. “And the choice is mine.” I slice the serrated edge across my left wrist and watch the blood pool before running across my skin and dripping to the floor.