9781936653027BorntobeWildArsuaga
Page 1
BORN TO BE WILD
Cynthia Arsuaga
EROTIC ROMANCE
Secret Cravings Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
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A Secret Cravings Publishing Book
Erotic Romance
BORN TO BE WILD
Copyright © 2010 by Cynthia Arsuaga
E-book ISBN: 978-1-936653-02-7
First E-book Publication: December 2010
Cover design by Beth Walker
Edited by Ariana Gaynor
All cover art and logo copyright © 2010 by Secret Cravings Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Secret Cravings Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
Dedication
To my daughter Jenny, who I hope one day, finds her Stefan.
I love you.
BORN TO BE WILD
Cynthia Arsuaga
Copyright © 2011
Chapter 1
Alexandra Carlton pulled into the Holiday Inn Express, checking in about three o’clock in the afternoon after a two-day trip from Florida to Virginia. The hotel made for a pleasant enough place, for a few nights anyway. The basics of a bed, bath, and a mini-bar were the essentials needed for this particular hunting trip.
Unpacking the duffle bag she stowed clothes in the dresser, toiletries in the bath area, grabbed her backpack, and headed out the door. Pulling out her cell phone, she scrolled through the contact list, deciding to check-in with the local Vamp Bounty Chapter. Making contact wasn’t a requirement, only a courtesy—one hunter to another. Should there be any trouble while in town, soliciting the local chapter hunters for assistance offered the best option. Being far away from her home territory and family, extensive training taught her doing so never hurt to have a back-up plan. Rule Number Eight—Have a Back-up Plan.
Alexandra rang the desk bell planted on the heavily worn wood countertop. The sign on the outside of the office door read: Open Monday through Friday nine o’clock and Closed at five o’clock. The clock on the wall read four-twenty. It’s not closing time yet. Where the hell is everyone?
Alex leaned over the counter. “Hey, anyone here?”
A gruff voice from the back offices returned with an answer. “Yeah, who wants to know?” The response blared from a southern drawl of an older man.
A stocky, six foot man wearing black jeans, a blue striped long-sleeved shirt, cowboy boots, and a Yankees ball cap walked out of the back room with a lofty snarl plastered on his face.
“Ah, pretty lady, what can I do for ya?” The smell of his Old Spice cologne reached her nostrils before he did.
Extending her hand, she straightened her back and smiled. “Hello, I’m Alex Carlton, from Carlton Bounty Hunters of Central Florida. I’m here to find out the local haunts and do a general check-in with you boys. Any info you can provide would be greatly appreciated.”
“Alex Carlton, little Alexandra Carlton? Bobby and Katie Carlton’s little girl?” he asked with exuberance. His soft blue-gray eyes lit up with excitement and a wide grin with slightly yellow teeth gleaming back at her.
“Yeah, you know my parents? Have we met?”
“Sure do little lady. I used to run with your parents back in the early days. I’m Randy Wilkes. I’m sure they have mentioned me. Then again, maybe not. I was a real roughrider in those days. Hard drinking, wild women, and vamp hunting. Wow, and now look at you. You’re a goddamn hunter.” Walking around from behind the counter, he extended his hand to shake. “Well, I’ll be damned. Always figured your brothers would get into the business, not you. Your mother was always adamant you would go to college and be a doctor, meet a good man and get married. Didn’t figure you’d get into the business like your mom did.” Smiling, he put his hands on her shoulders and examined her. “Well, I’ll be damned. Look at you. All grown up into a pretty lady.”
“It’s nice to know I’ll have a friend and someone to trust while I’m in town,” she said, pulling back, but adding the smile her mother always told her to wear when on a job. Randy reminded Alex of a big teddy bear, big, round and cuddly. He needed to tone down the cologne, though, and maybe the beer. Whew! She didn’t know which was worse.
“Speaking of which, come on back to my office and let’s talk. Who ya trackin’? Maybe I can help ya. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a hunt. Been stuck behind this here desk for a couple of years now since the incident back in 2005. I’ve been itchin’ to get back in the field.”
No way in hell, dude!
Walking around the counter, she followed him behind the partition to an office area. The décor didn’t leave much to the imagination. Sparse furnishings, a desk, file cabinets, couple of chairs, a table with fax and copy machines, and a mini-fridge tucked in underneath. On the wall hung a map mounted on a board with several areas circled and push-pins stuck in, marking specific areas on the map. Alex figured they must be vamp locations. Lairs, maybe?
“A rogue who took out a family in Orlando about a week ago. I told my dad I wanted the job. I needed to get out of town for my first solo hunt and figured this was as good a time as any.”
“First time, eh?”
“I’m ready.”
“No offense. If you’re anything like your dad and mom, you’re a good hunter. So, this here rogue traveled this far? That’s pretty interestin’.”
“I know. I think he’s headed in this direction from my research. Any help you can give me with the local topo would be great. I want to get the lay of the land before sunset.” Alex pulled out a notepad and pen from her backpack not wanting to let him know the details of her plan.
“Sure, sure. Well, I’d say the first place to check out is The Black Rose on Atlantic Avenue, in an area known as the North End of the Beach. It’s like the place in town for the vamps and the human Sanies who like to hang out with them.”
“Sanies?” Her eyebrows crinkled. It was an unfamiliar term.
“Yeah. That’s what we call ‘em here. You know, blood, sanguine, Sanies. Some of the human freaks actually have their teeth altered into fangs. Really sick puppies.”
“Teeth implants, that’s a new one to me too. Well, what about this Bla
ck Rose place?”
“Yeah. It’s an upscale joint, real posh and la-ti-da.” Randy made a gesture with his hands, waving in the air. “It’s their Cottage by the Sea. I’ve seen it advertised in the local paper and the goddamn telephone book that way. Can you believe that shit? Oh, excuse my French. You might see politicians, musicians, wealthy folks, even curious tourists in there if they can afford the cover charge. Try the cottage first.” He pulled out his well-worn desk chair and sat down. The metal snapped and creaked at the joints from his weight shifting.
“Okay, Cottage by the Sea, got it. Anywhere else?” She took a seat in one of the other chairs, the metal folding kind with the built-in pads which make you think they are comfortable, when in reality they aren’t. Thank goodness I won’t be staying long.
“Yeah, there is another place. Unless this rogue has real clout, I doubt he’d go there. It’s a private club, VIP members only. I wouldn’t bother with that place. It’s even swankier than the North End Cottage. I’ve heard rumors about the place, weird stuff happening there, although I’ve never gotten in to check it out. You have to know someone important to get in.” Randy mumbled something else under his breath, but Alex couldn’t make out what he said.
“Okay. So, who’s the Master of the Family in this region, got a name and stats?”
“Goes by the name of Gregori, Gregori Van Zant. Real nice dude. Ha, just kidding. He’s a real badass. Be careful of him. He runs a tight ship and definitely doesn’t like rogues. They disrupt the balance of things. I’ve heard him say they are a disgrace to their kind at an interview given to the local weirdo rag. I don’t think he’ll give you any trouble, that’s if you don’t give him any. Just be careful around him and his enforcer. They don’t like hunters either.”
“You’ve met this Gregori?”
“Yeah, a couple of times. He ain’t nice. I try and avoid him since the unfortunate incident a while back. We kinda had a run in.” He leaned forward over his desk. “If you know what I mean.” He wrinkled his brow, twitching it and winking.
Alex gave him a half grin, glanced down at her notes. “His second. Who is he?” This dude is creeping me out. Keep cool Alex. Get the info and you can leave.
“He’s the tricky one. Real smooth dude. The ladies have been known to drool over him, I hear. His name is Stefan. Stefan Marin and he’s from Eastern Europe somewhere, a real dark and ancient one, from the database reports. Gregori evidently trusts him with enforcing their laws. Their vamp laws or whatever you want to call them. If you want to find your rogue, he might be the one to contact. Just be careful of him, like I said, he doesn’t like hunters.”
“Great, this is good stuff, Randy. Sure appreciate it. I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind.” Standing, she walked out of his office area and back to the front lobby. Randy followed closely behind.
“Well, it sure has been nice to see ya again, Alex. Being all grown up now and all. Next time ya talk to your mom and dad, tell them hello for me, won’t ya?”
“Sure will, and thanks again for the info.” She waved the notepad before putting it into the backpack.
“Oh, you’re welcome. Hey, before you leave, take my business card. If you run into any trouble, call me. Any time of day or night. My cell phone is on twenty-four hours.” Flashing a slightly yellowed smile, he handed her his card. “You know I have some free time and wouldn’t mind showing you around the town if you need some help getting in the clubs.”
Not only no, but hell no. “Thanks, I appreciate it, but I’m flying solo on this one. Thanks again.” Taking the card from him, she turned and left. Randy may be a nice guy from first impressions, but he’d obviously been hunting too long. Alex sensed something slightly off about him, maybe the cologne or too many beers for the time of day. His eyes were a bit bloodshot, suggesting the latter. Hunters should always stay alert, even during daylight, Rule Number Six. Clearly Randy violated the rule.
Alex left knowing a backup plan existed if trouble popped up. Randy stood ready to help. I’m following the rules Dad, not to worry.
Unlocking the door to the car, she slid behind the wheel. After programming the GPS for the return trip to the hotel, she started the ignition, turned on the radio, and sped off down the road. There were a few more hours before the hunt for the rogue could begin.
After grabbing a bite to eat at the hotel restaurant, the room looked real good from the long day of driving. A shower and a little television, was just the ticket to get her in the right frame of mind for a first search. Flipping through the channels, nothing of interest caught her eye. Turning it off, she decided to rest her eyes for a few minutes instead, figuring the night ahead would be a long one.
Tonight, would be her first solo hunt.
Damn! This feels good!
Alex lay back on the double bed propped up on several pillows thinking about the last several days since beginning the new chapter in her life. Within minutes, the lack of a decent sleep in days overtook her.
The sound of people talking outside her room jarred Alex from a deep sleep. The sharpness of their voices arguing about where to go for dinner somehow filtered into her dreams in a very peculiar situation of her stuffing her mouth with Cheese Doodles.
The room was pitch-black, except for the red glow of the clock radio. Damn, what time is it? The red numbers read eight thirty-seven.
“Oh damn! I’ll be late.”
The time finally arrived. Actually, past time to get ready. Fumbling around to find the switch for the lamp, she switched it on, and padded off to the bathroom to shower. After finishing, and taking Randy’s advice about the vamp club, she put on something more refined, more ‘la-ti-da’ he said, choosing a sequin tank top and black leather skirt.
Studying her reflection in the mirror, Lose another twenty more pounds and maybe I will appear like one of those girls on the cover of Vamp Hunter Magazine. They were air brushed probably. Her brothers sent in a couple of pictures of her last year, and the magazine sent a rejection letter saying she didn’t fit the profile target for their readership. What kind of shit is that? Not attractive enough? What they really meant to say was I’m fat!
“I’m not fat. I’m average. I’m physically pleasing. I work out. Eat right. I’m curvier than those skinny models. That’s all. There’s no way they’re hunters. They’re photo manipulated into perfection.”
Her assertion was correct, of course, her brothers assured her. Models posed for the covers, not real-life vamp hunters. At least that’s what her dad told her. They said the magazines doctored the bodies by adding color or subtracting flaws. After receiving the rejection letter, she cried the entire night despite her family’s consolations.
After beginning a diet and changing lifestyle habits, she lost ten pounds in eight weeks. The exercising toned her body, adding the benefits of a new attitude and better self-image. Losing the next ten pounds seemed well within reach.
A half-hour later, she was ready for the solo hunt at last!
* * * *
Randy nailed it all right, at least from first impressions. The Black Rose appeared as an upscale vamp establishment, from its outer veneer anyway. Set back off the street among residential homes, the façade was inconspicuous, and the building looked like any other home on the block, a cute beach cottage with white clapboard siding and black shutters on the darkened windows, obscured for good reason. The Cottage by the Sea as Randy described. How could anyone suspect what went on inside when not easily seen meant privacy to vamps?
Alex parked the ‘stang, paid the cover charge, and crossed the threshold into another world, expecting a posh and impressive establishment. Having been inside some nice vamp hangouts from South Beach to New York, from Vegas to Los Angeles, she anticipated a romantic or even a beach décor for the venue. The others were glamorous or Gothic, casual or hi-tech, and to say this club was a real piece of work was an understatement. The interior decorator needed to go back to school. The design depicted one of the most outlandish red and black
with purple surfer boy turned prostitute-themed clubs ever seen on this earth. Her most vivid nightmare couldn’t conjure up anything worse. Randy may have nailed the outside description but his admiration for the place showed his taste to be in his ass. The designer shouldn’t count this a career milestone either. Politicians, musicians, and wealthy people come here? You’ve got to be kidding? Yuck!
Feeling overdressed with her silver sequined tank top and black leather mini-skirt, she probably would have fit in better with jeans and a T-shirt with flip-flops on her feet instead of the toe-pinching high heels.
“Oh…my…god!” She almost started to laugh out loud. Glancing around the room for a seat, she noticed an empty one at the bar and walked toward it.
She pulled out the metal and leather barstool and sat down, leaning over the bar to catch the attention of the young man rinsing out glasses. “Barkeep, what’s a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?” she asked in her toughest sounding voice, not wanting any trouble the first night out in a new locale. Unwelcome stares made her feel uneasy and regret her choice of dress. Keeping any unsavory characters, in particular vamps, at bay by acting tough became a priority.
“Yes, miss. What can I get for you tonight?” The bartender was a young dude all right. He couldn’t be more than about twenty-two, barely old enough to serve liquor. Cute, damn cute in his tight black jeans and wife beater shirt, tanned, streaky blonde hair, and ice blue eyes. A shame, because he really wasn’t her type, he was too young. Being twenty-seven, she liked her men a bit older. Still, he made the surfer bar more appealing. His smile flashed bright white. Blushing, she squirmed in her seat. Cowabunga, My Little Surfer Dude. Maybe I could make an exception to the rule.