by Megan Hawke
HUNGER WITHIN
A Sable Hart Vampire Slayer Novel, Book 1
By
Megan Hawke
PUBLISHED BY:
Hawke Publishing
Copyright 2011/2016 by Megan Hawke
Cover by Najla Qamber Designs
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and locations within are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
End of Book
Author Bio
Hunger Within
A Sable Hart Vampire Slayer Novel
The music blasted in Dallas’ most popular vampire hangout, The Black Rose, loud and screeching songs supporting morbid lyrics of blood and undeath. Little Goths and Gothettes danced to it, writhing and rubbing together. I pretended to enjoy it as I moved through the packed dance floor, jostled by the dancers. More disturbing than the music were the vampire pheromones. That intoxicating, musky scent grew thicker as I drew closer to my prey.
I tensed, spotting a vampire across the dance floor. Hello, cowboy.
He was tall and pretty; too pretty for my taste. The vamp was dressed more like a rock star than a Goth, in a black silk shirt opened low to reveal a hairy chest and gold necklaces. My eyes moved past him, to the curtained alcoves that lined the wall, where vampires took their willing victims.
Two hot blondes rubbed themselves against him. Twins; looked like the spider had caught his flies. I might be dressed like a dominatrix in heat, but I was confident he wouldn’t give up the twins. Vampires were pretty anal, and never surrendered a guaranteed meal for a chance at another.
Perfect, I thought, biting my lip. I can tag him without having to entertain him.
I took a deep breath, sucking up his pheromones. My body reacted, heat building between my thighs, with my throat and chest tightening. The arousal it caused would help me get close without undue attention. Vamps expected everyone to be horny around them and took note of those who were not.
As I moved toward him, I ran my hands down my sides. It might look like I was smoothing my clothes as a flirty gesture to attract a potential lover, but in truth I wanted the reassurance of the two wooden daggers hidden underneath the corset’s thick leather. They were eight inches of vampire death, but only as a last resort.
Despite what popular entertainment said, vampire slayers didn’t stalk the night with stakes and crossbows. Movies and books made us appear either as valiant heroes or insidious villains, but the truth was rather mundane. We’d rather sneak in, attach a homing device, and go in for the kill after sunrise. It’s much safer to stake them while they sleep.
I slipped a small black homing device out from under my corset. I had four taped there. The tag was the size of a quarter, maybe a tad thicker, and light as a feather. Double-sided tape held it in place. All I had to do was distract him while I attached it somewhere on his person, which was easier said than done. Truth was this was only my seventh tagging. The homing devices we used had only been available about three months. They made our lives so much easier. We used to follow the vamps to their daytime resting places.
The homing device would pop up on Dane’s screen the second I activated it. Also, I never went trolling without a special homing device hidden in my clothes. If caught, I pressed it. Once activated, Dane and the others would come to the rescue. We’d never had to use it, but I drew great comfort knowing Dane was parked in a nearby alley and intently watching for any sign I was in trouble. No one guards your back like your boyfriend. The other three members of our little vampire hunting team were with him, armed and ready.
I stepped up behind the vampire, laid one hand on his shoulder and the other on his hip, as I whispered with a deep, sultry voice, "They're pretty, but I think you’d enjoy a woman with more experience."
I stuck the homing device to his black belt at the same time. When I pressed it, I felt the tiniest click. The device activated. A vamp was tagged. I felt a thrill surge through me, my insides tingled, and heat rush to my face and nether regions. Heaven help me, but I loved my job.
The vamp looked at me over his shoulder. I am tall at five ten and wearing high heels, but he matched me inch for inch. Many of the oldest vampires were short. I swear he had to be using more product than me in his shoulder-length brown hair, and his cologne was a little too sweet for my tastes. But this close, his pheromones were dangerously potent.
I hid the fact that I was averting my eyes by looking the two Goth twins up and down. Up close, they looked to be mid-teens. Way too young to be in the Black Rose, much less cavorting with the undead. Then they smiled at me, and I saw their fangs.
He turned and pressed close, his nose half an inch from mine. Vampires had no sense of personal space. My heart rate ramped up. All I could do was hope he took my fear as fear of rejection.
"I am Yves Prideaux." His accent was French, thick, and sexy as hell. He took my hand and bent to kiss it. "What is your name, pretty lady?"
I knew I was in trouble as he kissed my knuckles. This was new ground for me. No vamp had ever chosen me over the one they’d already ensnared. I was such a fool for not realizing he was dancing with vampires.
They can tell when mortals lie, without fail. “My name is Sable.”
The air was saturated with Yves’ pheromones. My belly erupted with butterflies and my nipples stiffened and ached. I wanted to do wild and wicked things with him. When our eyes met, he thrust his power at me. I gasped and tensed as his power wiped my mind clear, and then he released me.
Yves smiled, exposing his fangs as he gently stroked my neck with the back of his fingers. He pushed my long, black hair over my shoulder, and looked longingly at my throat. "A woman indeed. Shall we find a more private place to… speak?"
He placed his hand at the small of my back and ushered me towards a curtained alcove. I never went into the alcoves. I struggled to regain my composure as I walked. Sucking in and holding a deep breath didn’t help, since it was saturated with pheromones.
My adrenaline flowed, reaching levels that matched the vamp pheromones as we reached the alcove. I struggled to clear my mind and weighed my options. I’ve studied Krav Maga for seven years, so I could take pretty good care of myself, but fighting a vamp drew unwanted attention.
If I tried to run or fight, he might figure out what I am. Even if I got the upper hand in a fight, other vamps would come to his aid. They also had incredible hearing; I had to keep it as quiet as possible. So into the alcove I went, seeing no other way to get him alone.
I turned to face Yves as he pulled the curtains closed in the dimly lit eight by five alcove. There was a red vinyl loveseat against the back wall; the floor was red tile and the walls were black.
The vamp pressed up close before I could completely form my plan of action. He grabbed my hair and yanked my head to one side. All I could see were his long, white fangs.
"Hey. Why so fast? In T
exas we have this little thing called foreplay. You should try it."
"I feed, then we play."
Immortals aren't exactly pressed for time. They usually like to play with their food first. Just my luck I’d seduced the hungriest vampire in Dallas.
Having no other choice, I dug up under my leather corset with both hands. Sucking in my belly for more room, I got hold of two long, thin, flat wooden daggers. I yanked them free. Yves pushed away and looked down even as I thrust one under his breastbone, angled upward.
"Ugh!" Yves reached for me. "Mourez-vous!”
I missed the heart, of course.
Tight quarters meant I was limited in what attacks I could use against him. I caught his arm and threw him over my hip and onto the loveseat. Before he could even think, I leapt on him and thrust my second wooden dagger straight through his evil heart.
Yves gasped, and then went limp. I let his body slide to the floor. I stared at him, breathing heavily and heart racing a mile a minute, expecting fangs to come charging in. After a moment I regained control of my senses and tamped down my fear.
I dropped to a knee beside the vamp and rifled through his pockets, but first I wiped my hands on his shirt. There was almost no blood on me. I usually wasn't that lucky.
Yves’ wallet gave up three hundred and six dollars and two credit cards. I stuffed the cards and cash down into my left thigh boot, since I had no pockets. The entire group would split whatever we could pull out of the vamp’s accounts. It’s how we earned our living. Most vampires grew wealthy over the centuries, and kept considerable sums in off-shore accounts. We did our best to milk those accounts dry before the banks learned their clients were dead and froze the accounts.
I left and pulled the curtains closed behind me. It was unlikely anyone would check inside until after the club closed for the night. Closed curtains meant a vampire wanted privacy. Vampires got anything they wanted at the Black Rose. I left the two wooden daggers in him. If a stake was removed too soon, the vampire would reanimate immediately. Depending on how old he was, it could take up to an hour before he was safely dead. Under normal circumstances, after staking a vamp we cut off its head. I didn’t have anything with me to cut it off, and that much blood would draw every vamp in the club. All I could do was hope no one looked inside the alcove until it was too late for Yves.
I didn't get ten feet before I spotted her coming out of the restroom. Someone said something and she laughed, showing her fangs. Score one more vampire.
The vamp had long platinum hair and big blue eyes in her heart shaped face. Her body was sheathed in a black leather corset, matching opera gloves, red miniskirt, and close fitting thigh-high boots. Her thin lips were the same bright red as the skirt, and were the focal point of her pale, pale face.
I moved to fall in behind her as I pulled free another homing device. Two vampires in one night would tie my personal best. Dane would be so proud.
She stopped to speak to a few people at a table near the VIP lounge, so I considered my options. Could I stick a homing device to the bottom of her black clutch without her feeling me touching it? I watched her like a hawk as I grew closer and closer. Her outfit was form-fitting, so she would feel me pressing something against it. I doubted I would get away with touching her like I could a male vamp. Could I bump her “accidentally”?
She opened her clutch and pulled out a cell phone, leaving the bag open and sitting on the table as she spoke. That was opportunity knocking. My eyes locked on the vamp’s face, in profile. She was engrossed in her phone conversation as I started to pass by, reaching out quickly to drop the activated homing device into her clutch.
“What did you do?” a woman’s voice called to my left rear.
My breath caught. I stole as casual a glance as I could muster over my shoulder and spotted a face I knew from the TV news reports. Valerie St Clair owned the Black Rose, among other vampire friendly businesses. She was pointing at me.
“Shit.”
“Stop her,” Valerie said.
The vamp I’d just tagged seized my left wrist and yanked it up behind my back so hard she almost separated my shoulder.
“Son of a bitch!” I hissed.
"What do we have here, Valerie?" the vampire said. She gave my arm a vicious twist, forcing me to rise up on my tiptoes as more intense pain lanced deep into my shoulder. "A troublemaker?"
“Damn, you’re fast.” My mind reeled for a second. What would they do if I started screaming for help? Would a club full of vampire loving thralls even consider defying a vampire, much less help a vampire slayer? I glanced towards the curtained off VIP area, and realized there could be a dozen vampires in there. My free hand found my emergency homing device, pressed it, and I felt the tiny click. “Even for a vamp.”
"She dropped something in your clutch," Valerie said, starting to sift through it. Seconds later she laughed and pulled out my tag. "I knew it. The local vampire slayers have recently started using these tiny homing devices to track vampires, Anastasia."
“Anastasia? The former vampire slayer?”
Anna Stacy had been Dane’s girlfriend and hunting partner – captured and Changed before I came on the scene. I replaced her in both aspects: on the team and in Dane’s life. Would that piss her off? Do vampires even care about those they left behind?
“Yes I am,” Anastasia whispered in my ear. Her breath stank of blood. “That was never reported, so the only way you’d know that is if you are a vampire slayer, too.” She looked at Valerie, “I think we just found dinner.”
I paused to consider my awe-inspiring stupidity. Sometimes I don’t know when to keep my big mouth shut.
“Hey, can’t you just let me go? We have the same friends – Dane, Gabe, Wendy, Anson…”
“They stopped being my friends when I died,” Anastasia said, giving my arm another twist. “Dane tried to kill me after I was Changed. All vampire slayers are my enemies.”
Yep, that was Dane. He would’ve staked Anna for her own good, to save her immortal soul before she could become truly evil. Dane was rather obsessed.
I drove a sharp stiletto heel into her foot and sucked in a deep breath to scream bloody murder. Anastasia cursed and clamped a hand over my mouth as she pulled me backwards into the VIP lounge. Valerie followed, pulling the curtains closed.
“That hurt, bitch,” Anastasia said.
My mouth went dry. I could barely hear her over the blood pounding in my ears. I tried to bite her hand. At the same time I reached back with my free hand and grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled with all my strength. Her bleached hair broke, leaving me with a useless fistful of it.
“Bitch!” Anastasia cried, releasing my mouth and seizing the back of my head.
She slammed my forehead into a tabletop. Light and darkness flashed behind my eyes as my limbs all went limp. I felt like a rag doll in her hands as she forced me to kneel before a group of two male and three female vampires sitting on a long couch, including the twins that had been dancing with Yves. Fortunately, I recovered quickly.
"Y’all won't get away with this." I fought the urge to glare at them. Eye contact with vampires – bad. Eyes on the floor, I had to keep them talking until the cavalry arrived. Where were they? "I'm working with the police. They know I'm in here."
"You can't lie to vampires," Anastasia said. She jerked my head back, and I squeezed my eyes shut. "We’re perfectly attuned to your body. Besides, your aura quivers when you lie."
"Oh shit." I almost wet myself. Menace was rolling off those vampires like storm driven waves. Really, with vampires menace and anger are palpable, and freaky as hell. I could barely breathe as cold sweat broke out all over my body. "Couldn’t we start out with a little flirting? Maybe exchange phone numbers?"
"Nice," Anastasia said. “You think you’re funny.”
Anastasia caressed my throat. I so needed to pee. My heart was five seconds from exploding, pounding so hard it hurt.
"She pants so prettily."
&n
bsp; Anastasia's free hand slid down my body. That’s when I realized my boobs had come out of my corset. I hate it when that happens. My eyes popped open when her hand slipped down into my pants, and I looked straight into her waiting eyes. Her gaze pierced deep into my mind. All thoughts vanished, and my body got all fluttery hot and achy. My awakened carnal needs were a wound up spring, begging for sweet release. All those naughty thoughts I had for Yves earlier, I now had for Anastasia.
"What's your name, my smoky-eyed beauty?"
"Sable Hart."
"Where do you live?"
"I live in Plano." I rattled off my address, apartment number and everything. If I'd had my apartment's GPS coordinates, I'd have given them as well.
“Did you tag Yves?” one of the twins asked.
“Yes.” Nothing else. I would’ve told them I staked him, but they didn’t ask. I didn’t volunteer that info. I was hypnotized, but not stupid.
“Ha!” the vamp said. “He’s going to be so pissed.”
I fought the urge to correct her. Fortunately, Anastasia asked me another question. "Are you here alone, Sable?"
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Betraying my friends frightened me more than the vampires. I dug deep, heart racing, and struggled to fight off her unholy influence. A lone bead of sweat rolled down the valley of my spine underneath the corset.
"Oh, my, she's a strong one," one of the other vamps said, with an Eastern European accent. She was by far the most beautiful of the female vampires. I looked at her more closely, and realized she was a former super model – Petra Prochazka. The sultry vampire was tall and slim, with the most gorgeous shade of brown hair I'd ever seen. She didn’t buy that in a box, I don't care what Clairol said. “So she isn’t alone.”
Petra sat in the lap of a stocky, scowling vampire. He was the shorter of the two males, maybe a couple inches shorter than me. When he spoke, it was with a thick Russian accent. "She's a slayer. Kill her and be done with it before her friends arrive."
“They won’t get through my security team,” Valerie said.