by Michelle Fox
I sat next to her and opened the web browser on my phone. "Can you find the ad?"
"Why?"
"I need to see it."
"Yeah. Okay. Sure." She tried to take the phone but I held onto it. With a huff, she used her finger to navigate. "You claimed me, remember? I don't think I can call for help."
"I'd rather not compel you."
"What do you care?'
"It's bad for your mind."
"After the drugs I've done, I doubt you're going to do any damage, but I appreciate that you're a gentleman." She tapped the screen on my phone. "Here's the ad."
I studied the site that came up, a forum that appeared to be about gardening with flashing ads for rehab. I clicked the ad. "Approved by the Pack Council? They know about this?"
"They don't know it's this. They would never let this happen. It's a front. Just like that's not really a gardening forum."
"Okay. Tell me what happened from the beginning."
"I just wanted to get clean."
"Why?"
"Because I was going to kill myself. I'd started trying new things. Pushing for a bigger, better high no matter what it took. Did you know some recipes use nuclear waste?"
"No. I didn't know. That's crazy."
"It was getting to where that sounded good to me." A tremor ran through her body. "I couldn't stop. Not by myself."
I raised my eyebrows. "What did you want to live for?"
"What did you want to die for?" she shot back. "Or did they take you against your will?"
Her questions hit me like a slap. I pushed words through my clenched jaw and reminded myself she had no way to know my past. If she did, she wouldn't have ever challenged me like that. "No. It wasn't against my will."
"Then why?"
I knew why I'd made my choice all those hundreds of years ago, although nothing had happened the way I'd planned. Would I make the same choice again? I wasn't sure. "I thought I could make a difference."
"And now you've claimed your very own junkie. You must be thrilled. Is immortality everything you dreamed of? Is this the difference you wanted?" Acid laced her voice, lashing out at both of us.
I nudged her back on track. "You didn't answer my question. Why did you want to get clean?"
She looked away and was silent. "My sister deserves better. I never wanted to drag her into..." She made a helpless gesture with her hands. "...whatever it is that makes me like this, but I screwed that up."
"So you responded to the ad and...?"
"This alpha, Mason, tells me to come to Huntsville. Meets me in a bar. Some dive in the woods." She showed me the bruises marching up and down her arms. "He gave me good stuff. Best I ever had. He told me it was some new synthetic shit from the Tiger Clan in China. I woke up here. That's all I know."
I frowned at the mention of China. It meant Zion had sourced some of the most sophisticated drugs on the planet. The Chinese didn't see drugs as a taboo, not when they were profiting off them. They had entire labs, right out in the open, making drugs for humans and shifters alike.
I'd started my career on the East Coast docks, hunting their shipments and destroying anything I found. The sheer volume of drugs they pumped into the US was stunning. It was like trying to stop Niagara Falls. It had been a frustrating job, and I'd welcomed the move to special investigations once the Chinese knew my face.
"How long have you been here?" I asked.
"I don't know. Time is weird down here in the dark, and Zion doped me a couple times. I know I landed at the Nashville airport on the tenth."
"It's been about a week, then."
"Geez. I've lost that much time?" She grabbed another piece of pizza in one hand and unwrapped a taco with the other. "No wonder I'm starving. I don't think they've fed me anything but drugs since I got here."
I rubbed my chin and considered what she'd told me. Mason was a dirty alpha. He would have to be dealt with, preferably by the Pack Council who would make a warning of him. Of course, that meant we'd have to come clean to the Pack Council which would be a diplomatic nightmare. Vampires and shifters didn't get along so well. We were better at destroying each other. I had the scars to prove it.
"Is there anyone else involved?"
She finished the pizza and started in on the tacos, pausing to answer my question."Not that I saw. But if you can grab Zion's phone, you'll know everyone he's been talking to. That thing is attached to his jaw like a growth. He's never not talking to someone."
"All right. Thanks for your help."
She nodded and then went still. Her gaze locked with mine.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Strange. I thought I would feel our bite somehow. But there's nothing there."
"I told you, I don't want to compel you."
"Why not?" she asked. "Aren't I yours?"
"You're not a possession."
"To Zion, I am."
"I'm not him." I tightened my jaw, at the thought of that soulless low life giving her drugs, let alone touching her. He was poison. I hoped the Vampire Council executed him. That would be my recommendation in my report.
"The thing is, for the first time since I was a kid, I don't crave a hit. What do you think that is?"
The hope filling her eyes ignited an unpleasant wariness in my gut. My sister had looked up to me like that, and it hadn't helped her. Not even close. "I'm not your savior, Adele."
"And yet, you're saving me. There's something about you..." She slid closer to me and her soft lips captured mine. Despite her slender frame, her body still held curves that felt entirely too good pressed against me.
A wave of want clawed over me, tearing open old wounds. I battled with myself for a long moment. I wanted to rip off Adele's clothes and lose myself in her. I could already feel her legs around me, knew exactly how my cock would pulse inside her at the sound of her screaming my name. The smell of her filled me, fur and lilacs. It teased me with all that I could have if I just...gave in. Yes. Just have my way with her and use her body to satiate my desires.
With a control I didn't know I had and knew I couldn't trust, I wrenched my thoughts away from Adele. This could not happen. I wouldn't allow it.
I stood and grabbed her by the shoulders, lifting her up until just her toes touched the floor.
"Hey!" She struggled against my grip. "What are you doing?"
I shoved her into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Noticing the key in the lock, I turned it. She pounded the door, screaming for me to let her out.
"Go to sleep," I said, slipping the key into my pocket
"Fuck you! You don't get to tell me what to do." She kicked the door. It shook, but didn't break under her rage, so it must have been made with shifters in mind. Perhaps a steel core of some kind. Zion definitely had an eye for detail.
"Go to bed and sleep," I said, making it a compulsion. I hated to do it, but, for both our sakes, I needed to maintain control.
There was a half-hearted thump on the door and then nothing. I gave it a minute before cracking the door open to check on her. Adele lay sprawled on the bed, limbs in all directions. I shut the door and just leaned against it for a second.
For the first time in centuries, I was breathing—a hard, heavy pant—and my heart throbbed in my chest, filling my ears with thunder. I was having a human flashback, a vestigial memory of when I'd been alive and could still feel something.
I forced myself to move and put the food away, glad to have something to keep my hands busy. My mind still raced, though. She was a girl, an addict shifter, a nothing in my world. And yet, she was more dangerous than Zion. Because when she'd kissed me, she'd smelled like she belonged to me and I could never have her.
Chapter Three
Davian
Zion burst into the suite in the middle of the night, fury darkening his eyes. "You only paid me half."
"I know," I said calmly from where I sat on the couch, one leg resting on the opposite knee. I picked up the remote and turned off the movie I'd bee
n trying to watch. I hadn't been able to focus. Feeding on Adele had unlocked so much darkness in my mind that the real movie had become the past playing on the screen of my eyelids.
He stormed over to me, his fist raised, gold cufflinks gleaming in the light. I held up a hand, warding him off.
"Do you want to know why I only paid you half? Or do you want to attack me and never know?"
Zion sneered. "I don't attack, I kill double-crossers like you."
I kept my body relaxed and my voice mild."I'm no double-crosser. I'm a satisfied customer."
"Then pay me." He pulled his knife, the blade sharp in the light.
"I want to change my order."
"The price is final."
"The price is fine," I shot back. "I want to increase the quantity. Consider that money a deposit."
The fury melted away, leaving a congenial smile in its place. "Oh. Excellent."
"But can I trust you not to kill me?"
"I apologize." The knife disappeared into his suit coat and he smoothed the black lapel with one hand. "I misunderstood."
"It can't happen again. I don't partner with people who fly off the handle."
"It won't be a problem. Now," he moved to settle in the armchair to the side of the couch, "how many would you like?"
"Thirty girls. Clean as you can make them." I'd picked that number to push his supply chain to the limits. He would have to hustle to fill the order, making it easier to track how his operation worked. He'd bring in help and pressure his contacts. Every operation had a point at which it couldn't maintain itself. I would force him into that corner and something would crack open.
Zion was silent for a moment, his only response a small nod. "When?"
"Two weeks," I said.
"That's not a lot of time."
I let irritation cross my face. "You were the one who said you had a good supply chain."
"Good, but not infinite."
"Then we'll add some incentive. A discount for late delivery. Say, ten percent per head? Unless you can't handle it. In which case, I can take this one," I nodded toward the room that held Adele, "and go. You're not the only one selling." I made my voice cold, acting the part of the businessman. Let him think I would walk, that I had to be wooed. He needed to know I held the power now. I'd offered him more money than he'd ever seen in one transaction. The greed would overwhelm him, and he would make a mistake.
"I can handle it."
"Good."
"But you stay here until I deliver."
"If you insist on locking me up in this suite, we'll have to renegotiate terms." I wanted out so I could follow his people.
"You'll be free to move about, but this is where you lay during the day. Is that acceptable?"
"I'd already planned to stick around and keep an eye on things here." The more I saw, the better.
"Excellent. I'll assign a team to you."
"I'm sure I can manage on my own."
He waved a hand, dismissing my bid for independence. "It's like the New York City of trees out there. I wouldn't want you to get...lost."
"I'm sure you'd never allow that." I gave him a tight smile.
"I only want the best for my top clients." He shot me an equally tight smile. "So, we understand each other?"
"Perfectly."
He held out his hand and we shook.
I returned to my movie after Zion left, finally able to relax. The first phase of my plan was complete. I was in. Now to dig deeper and then shut him down.
I sank back into my chair, propped my feet up on the glass and chrome coffee table, and let a light sleep claim me. Centuries earlier, I'd travelled to the Orient and learned their meditation techniques. Even dead, I could still use the breathing techniques to generate an almost human body warmth, and it kept me from falling into the death-like sleep of my kind. I wanted to stay alert. Zion couldn't be trusted. The money would keep him in check, but only for so long, and I could never rule out the risk of being revealed for who I really was: The enforcement arm of the Vampire Council.
My thoughts still, the chair a pleasant cushion, I floated in a warm nothingness...until the scent of blood hit my nose. I jolted into full consciousness and inhaled a big gulp of air, testing for the scent's location, testing to see if it had just been a dream, but no, it was real. Standing up, I followed the metallic tang to the doors of the bedroom.
Dahlia...no, Adele.
The addict.
I unlocked the door and threw it open. The smell rushed to fill my nose. It slammed into my brain with enough force to make me sway back. I'd just fed and yet I lusted after that blood like a flame in need of a wick. Shoving my primal reaction aside, I focused on Adele.
She lay naked in the bed, her clothes scattered around the room. Eyes closed, she writhed in a disjointed, erratic rhythm. Her pale skin gleamed against the black sheets twisted around her like shadows. I couldn't tear my gaze off her long legs, the way her calves curved up to the knee and widened at the thigh. A different kind of lust came over me, and my cock throbbed at the idea of sinking into her body and wrapping her heat around me.
Moaning, she flopped her arms up over her head. The movement drew my attention and displayed the oozing gouges up and down her forearms. She'd scratched herself deep enough to make a mess. Red handprints adorned the wall above the bed, stark against the white paint.
"Adele."
She screamed and her back bowed up off the bed.
I rushed to her. "Adele."
No response.
I shook her by the shoulder. Her eyelids flickered open, but all I saw were the whites.
One of her arms reached for me and her grip clamped down on my forearm until her nails broke my skin. "N-n-n-need."
"What? What is it?" I peeled her fingers off me one by one, amazed at her strength. Every time I got one off, another clamped down.
"M-m-more." Her teeth chattered and she shivered and twitched.
"More what?"
She didn't answer. Her body convulsed, pressing her deep into the bed, and then she sprang up into a sitting position. Her half open eyes showed only white. She opened her mouth wide, and with one hand, yanked me close, her mouth sealing around my wrist, teeth scraping over my skin.
"No," I said, my voice full of authority. The compulsion hit her and she went still, refusing to move away but unable to bite me. "Lay down."
She fought it, but had no choice, her body and mind were mine for as long as I needed them. I didn't want to use her roughly, but I wouldn't let her feed from me again. It would deepen our bond and she might be chained to me for eternity. A fate I wouldn't wish on anyone.
Still, anger glittered in her eyes. I took it as a good sign. It was an improvement over her trance-like thrashing.
"What's wrong?" I put a light touch of my power over her into my voice.
Through gritted teeth, she said, "Withdrawal. I need a hit."
"No. You don't."
"Biochemistry is a bitch. I'm hooked and I'm not clean. It'll just get worse." She lurched upright and leaned over the side of the bed. Gagging, she hurled up all the food she'd eaten earlier. The sour stench of stomach acid mixed with the blood cleared my head. No vampire in their right mind craved anything that smelled that bad.
I took a step back and tilted my nose up, looking for less odorous air, but she kept vomiting and even though I hadn't eaten a full meal in centuries, my stomach made rumblings about wanting to eject things, too.
"I'm sorry," she sputtered in between waves of vomiting. "I'll clean it up." She managed to turn her head and the look in her eyes was so full of pain, I found myself going to her and picking her up, cradling her in my arms on the way to the bathroom.
The white tile of the bathroom made things sterile and cold. I set her feet down and she collapsed around the toilet, sick and desperate to purge. I held her hair until she was done and offered her a cool washcloth.
"Are there any toothbrushes in here?" Her eyes closed, she wiped her face with th
e washcloth.
I rummaged in the vanity drawers and located the requisite supplies. Handing them to her, I asked, "Will you be okay on your own for a minute?"
She gave a wan smile, so pale the white bathroom tile seemed dark. "Yeah. I don't have anything left in my stomach now." She looked down and her eyes widened. "I also don't seem to have any clothes on."
"You can borrow one of my shirts." I went to the bedroom closet and grabbed a light blue dress shirt. Returning to the bathroom, I handed it to her.
"Thanks." Covering her breasts with one hand, she accepted the shirt with the other. She kept her head down, refusing to look me in the eye. I found that more reassuring than awkward. Women in their right mind didn't want to be naked in front of strange men. Not even shifters who tended to be more lax about nudity.
"I'll be right back," I said and then headed for the entrance to the suite.
The guard wasn't happy when I demanded a new room, but once the smell hit him—it had overtaken the entire suite by then—he pulled out his phone and made the call.
"All right. We've got something ready for you."
"Great. I trust you'll send someone to gather my things?"
The guard nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Let me go get my..." I cast about for the right word and couldn't find one. Finally I said, "companion."
"We just call 'em slaves here. Or food. Zion sometimes calls them dinner." The guard guffawed, amused.
I forced a laugh before shutting the door in his face. Back in the bedroom, the bathroom door was shut. Light leaked through the gap at the bottom along with the sound of rushing water. I tapped my knuckles on the door. "Adele?"
"Hmm?"
"I've arranged for a new suite."
Something garbled was shouted at me that sounded like "one second." I waited and waited and then there was a cascading clattering followed by a thud behind the door.
"Adele?" I tapped the door, but she didn't answer. I pounded the door, then. "Adele?" All I could hear was the water.
Opening the door, I found her in a heap on the floor, my dress shirt twisted and bunched around her body. She twitched and her eyelids flickered like lights that couldn't figure out how to stay on. In two steps I was next to her, sinking to my knees and picking her up. She didn't react to my presence.