The Hunger - Vampire Huntress Legend 3

by L. A. Banks

  "He'll be in no condition to deal with Brazil."

  Father Patrick nodded at Padre Lopez's comment.

  "Okay, that's it," Marlene said, her hands on her hips. "Enough! We've got work to do on this concert tour you've had Dan try to set up—and you haven't even been home or awake long enough to decide on which contracts you want him to sign, what venues you want to do first… chile, I swear! You're in no condition to travel anywhere to fight anything, and haven't worked on a single routine in over ten days."

  Guilt swept through Damali, but she was still going out. Okay, so she'd taken ten days to block out the world and to claim a little happiness for herself, and yeah, she wasn't on point, wasn't on the job. But she was only human, and this thing with her and Carlos was new and white-hot.

  However, Marlene's glare wasn't one of judgment, just defeat. It slowly made her think about all the things she'd promised herself after she left Inez's. Plus, there was something else in Marlene's eyes that she couldn't put her finger on.

  Conflicting emotions battled within her. Marlene was right. True, the world needed a champion. But, damn, did it have to be tonight?

  Marlene looked away and ran her fingers through her locks, then glanced up at the ceiling. So help me Father, I wanna slap her. She drew in a steadying breath and closed her eyes, then focused on the threat that Damali was still oblivious to. All right, she wouldn't slap the child's face with that information, and would give her a few more days of peace to get it together. No more innocents would be killed until the next full moon. Had to be demons, vamps had to feed nightly. But it was patently clear that, if Damali was so scattered, she had to pull her thing together on her own in order to be in mental condition to fight. "The fellas are worried, if we're going to a foreign country somewhere to do battle. Everybody's head has to be on straight."

  "Yeah, but we've laid down all the new CD cuts, and wherever we finally sign for venues will be cool," Damali said quietly, hoping that Marlene wouldn't make her feel worst than she already did. What was Mar so worried about, anyway? She wouldn't turn, Carlos was fine… it was all good.

  Damali tried to steady her hand as she put on her lip gloss in the bathroom mirror, mentally fending off Marlene's words. Just a few more nights, Lord… that's all she needed. Marlene just didn't understand. There was no such thing as the word "no" when it came to this Carlos-thing that gripped her.

  "There's nothing I can say to get through to you, is there?" Marlene sighed. The poor chile was still so blind. Something was blocking her third eye—love. All she could see was Carlos, and was seriously off her job. But having been there, too, there was no judgment, just sheer frustration.

  Damali set her lip gloss down and looked at Marlene.

  "I'm crazy about him, Mar."

  Marlene sighed again and leaned against the door frame. "I know. Heaven help me, but I know." Please, Heaven, let this child wake up.

  "We haven't been attacked."

  "Yet." Lord, don't make me have to go in there and have another argument with Shabazz.

  "I know. We're being careful, though."

  Marlene just stared at her for a moment. She'd have to take this mess to the pillow with Shabazz. The man was gonna be off the hook, if she went in there and told him another night had passed and Damali was still not tuned in to Brazil.

  "You two have been lucky, that's all. And even thought your sight is partially back, it's totally focused on one thing. And that's not good. My poor overtaxed brain won't even go near you guys to monitor for safety. There are some things I just don't need to see. Do you know that even Father Patrick's second sight is blanking on him, because of the images you two left in a monastery safe house!"

  "Oh, man, that wasn't supposed to happen, and we both apologized for that. It was that first night, things got carried away, but we never went back there again. Swear we didn't." And what did Marlene mean by her sight being partially back? She could see just fine. She always heard Carlos in her head loud and clear, that was for sure.

  "Regardless. You're out in the streets till all hours, and neither of you has your guard up. You're both blind, and can't see beyond each other, or the stars in each other's eyes." Marlene stared at Damali hard. "Plus, one night, that brother is gonna scare the mess out of you." Marlene paused and sighed. "You're gonna find out how strong he really is, gonna see him come out of a bag that's going to freak… you… out." Marlene ran her fingers through her locks and closed her eyes. "Don't ask me how I know."

  For a moment neither woman spoke. Marlene silently prayed for patience and a healthy dose of discernment. There was no competing with a new lover, especially as a mom. But if Damali didn't snap out of it, before the next full moon came near…

  "He won't hurt me, Marlene. We've been through that."

  "I don't doubt his heart. It's his nature that concerns me, sweetie." Marlene smiled sadly. "He is what he is, and he won't mean to, but one day, you're going to push a button, girl…" Marlene sighed hard again and looked at the floor. "You are so on the edge and don't even know it. But, we all have to see for ourselves. I did, too, so I ain't talking bad about you."

  "No, seriously, Mar. Okay, I admit that a couple of third-generations tried to push up on him a few times, but you know, when both of us stood side-by-side and stared them down, it was cool. Most of the second-generations were wiped out on his order after the Nuit thing went down. It's cool. Really." Even to her own ears, her words sounded contrived, despite the truth in them. Besides, Marlene didn't know anything about something like this. Marlene's look of total disdain didn't help matters, so she pressed on. "He's been hunting at night to replenish—"

  Marlene gasped.

  "No, no, no, not like that. Deer. We found this cool little place in the woods that—"

  "I don't want to hear any more," Marlene said quickly, holding up both hands.

  "Oh, Mar, but he's wonderful." Damali sighed and leaned against the sink. She needed a good girlfriend right now so badly to share her experience with, and while Marlene was part girlfriend, she was also part mother. That mother part stood in the way of a total confession. And God knows Inez wouldn't understand. She allowed her gaze to go toward the steel-covered windows.

  "We talk about everything," she said in a distant voice. "What it feels like to be the only one of your kind… growing up, knowing what it was like to be different. What made us each choose our different paths." She looked at Marlene in the eye. "He's changed so much, has seen so many things. All he needs is a second chance."

  Marlene nodded. "I know, baby… you love him." She sighed with final defeat lacing her breath. "Be careful when you go out and have a good time, while it lasts."

  Without another word of protest, Marlene turned, left the bathroom, and was gone.

  "He's fully immersed in the Neteru, Mr. Chairman," the counselor said, pacing before the Vampire Council. "He's not rational! We have sent the edict to our families topside that there will be no attacks, but my concern is Rivera's ability to complete the Neteru-delivery mission when it is time. He is compromised, and he will not be able to part with her."

  "Are you blind? Surely this is part of his strategy, Counselor Vlak, to totally seduce her, gain her trust, throw off her team's guard… He enters their compound at will, escorts her openly, even in front of the Covenant team that cannot contain him. He grows strong, not weak!" The chairman's fist landed on the table and came away with blood, momentarily stopping the argument. "We are watching vampire history in the making!"

  The counselor spun on the chairman and folded his arms over his chest. "But he has not properly fed! He will be in no condition to address the Brazilian breach! Right now, given our heavy collateral damage from the civil war and the Amanthra incursion—fighting two major battles on two fronts simultaneously, Carlos Rivera is the strongest master vampire we've got topside, and he's… he's… The man has been decimated!"

  For a moment, silence crackled in the room. Soon the murmur of dissent filtered among the sea
ted council members. The chairman's eyes narrowed on the counselor.

  "Could it be," the chairman offered in a lethal tone, his voice escalating with every word as he slowly stood, "that he is not feeding because he's been filled with Neteru?" The chairman knocked over his goblet and sent blood splashing to the floor. "Would you drink from mere human if you could have that as a nightly option?"

  "He eats venison in the woods like a damned werewolf. A disgrace!"

  Seething, the chairman reached out a bony hand, his claws extending as the fury swept the counselor close enough to him to snatch out his heart. Breathing heavily from the sudden burst of rage, he petted the terror-stricken counselor's chest. His voice became a sinister whisper. "In front of her to gain her trust. He cannot risk her believing an innocent died at his hands to inspire doubt in her. And he guards her every night from the moment the sun goes down, until dawn… when would he have time to bring down a kill?"

  The chairman pushed the counselor away, and in relief, the counselor covered his heart with his hand.

  "Rivera seduces her every night, at his own risk," the chairman said. "Her blood is a toxin to his system when not ripe—and he hasn't even flushed it with a human feed. He did this for the empire. A true blood sacrifice of merit."

  Garnering calm, he walked behind the table, rounded it, and came to stand before the counselor, bearing fangs. He allowed his voice to dip to a threatening whisper followed by a hiss. "Now you find his soul, and you never speak ill of the master vampire who is so shrewd I wish he were my own son. Are we clear?"

  "Wow," she said, laughing as she walked past the compound light barrier up the road to Carlos's car. "I thought you sold it years ago, and traded it in for the black Mercedes?"

  "Yeah, well, what can I say? I sorta resurrected her from memory. I shoulda kept her and never got the sedan. I don't know what I was thinking."

  He tried to seem casual, as though Damali's words didn't affect him. He watched her with sudden pride while she walked around the blood-red Chevy that used to be his heart. Although Damali had replaced his once-favorite girl on four wheels, he still had a warm spot for his old speed demon. Yeah… but the old girl couldn't hold a candle to his boo.

  Damali was standing there all-fine, matching his car, in a red halter top that had rips in it like claw tears, her smooth belly exposed. Her long, gorgeous legs were sliding out from beneath a black leather mini, with her baby Isis dagger peeking out at the thigh as though her legs were flashing a hint of fang. Girlfriend was working a pair of strappy black stilettos to the bone that tied up her calf. He let his gaze travel up her legs. Damn, every time he saw her, she did something to him.

  She had her hair swept up off her neck just like he liked it. Tonight she wore ruby teardrop earrings, had lost the silver and had gone to platinum settings just for him. Blood-red nails, toes, and have mercy, her mouth. She'd done something different with her eyes, too. They had a real smoky charcoal effect that made her look all-vamp.

  It would have been nice to be able to pick Damali up at the door, but her guardians were just not having it. He smiled. Just like old times. Beep twice. Meet me. This was nuts.

  "She's beautiful," Damali said, as she ran her hand gently down the door, but careful not to mess up the brilliant wax job. "Would'ja look at the rims on her… twenty-twos, wires, damn, Carlos. She's all that."

  Damali looked at him with a wide, mischievous smile. He had to laugh.

  "But how do you see over the engine to drive this thing? You got chrome coming out of the hood sittin' up higher than the driver, brother." She laughed and bent over to peer down, which gave him a nice view. "And the exhaust pipes look like they belong on Rider's Harley."

  "You shouldn't make fun of a man's car, girl. It ain't right. And I don't need to see over the engine." He gave her a sexy smile and winked. "I drive her like—"

  She held up her hand, laughing harder. "Do not say it."

  He smiled broadly and shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about. I wasn't gonna say, 'I drive her like I drive you.' D, all I was gonna say was, 'I sense the road—got skillz. Can drive her with my eyes closed.'"

  "Uhmmm, hmmm. Yeah, aw'ight," she said, going around the vehicle one more time with a bright smile. "She is pretty. I love this car," she said, her hand trailing over the black leather seats as she walked around the convertible. "I'm not making fun of it." Then she laughed and shook her head. "Of course I like it. Always did."

  She liked the car, but was also fucking with him. She knew the sound of her voice, and the way she allowed her fingers to trail over the chrome grille as she went by, the way she let her fingers hover over the custom, iridescent crimson paint job, was giving him a hard-on. But he was glad she liked the car. He should have thought of it earlier, would have been the perfect place to take her… he'd fantasized so much about it when he was a kid.

  She glanced at him. "So, you wanna take her for a whirl?"

  "Rhetorical question, right?" He smiled and opened the door, watching how she slid against the leather, the friction hiking up her skirt to expose more thigh and blade. Damn.

  "Where are we going?"

  That question made him get serious and focus. "Need to take you 'round the way for a bit. Then we can chill. Cool?"

  "All right," she said, but her smile faded.

  He could see the wheels in her mind turning as she gazed at the horizon. He revved the motor without needing to turn the ignition key. He put on "Choppa Style," loud, letting the bass throb through him so he didn't have to talk to her just yet. He bopped with the refrain in the music. Oh, yeah, it was on now… and we ready.

  This was something that she would never understand. Before he went to Brazil solo, he had to get a few things straight, handle some business. A week ago, a couple of lower-level males had pushed up on him, in the fucking street, when he was with his woman, no less. The only reason they'd backed down is because he and Damali had stood united. That could never happen again. Motherfuckers betta recognize, and she shouldn't even need to grip her blade when she was with him. The fact that she did, still didn't sit right with him. He was her weapon—and if that wasn't clearly established, she wasn't going anywhere on tour. Period. He was just glad she hadn't siphoned that info from his brain… and he was too glad that she hadn't picked up anything in the news yet.

  Yeah, he had to make a run, then deal with Brazil before girlfriend found out. The Covenant and Marlene had given their word that they'd let him handle whatever was over there alone. The fact that she hadn't gotten hip was evidence enough that she wasn't completely back… then again, he did have to admit he'd had a role in keeping her a little blind. He didn't feel guilty in the least about that bit of sleight of hand while her mind was wide open; he was not allowing his woman to go on some damned hunt. That was out. Her crazy hunting days were over. If something needed to be iced, that was his job. She just needed to stay safe.

  Not to mention, it was bad enough that the council had put an off-limits marker on him, as though he needed their protection like some weak vamp human-helper. They'd even put a temporary one on Damali, like he couldn't protect her! Vlak probably loved that shit…

  Carlos kept his gaze fastened to the road, allowing the Chevy's speed to kick up with his rage. "Get Low" came on, building his confidence as the music got louder, the bass got stronger, words said what he needed to hear, All skit skit, mo'fucker, Aw skit skit got-damn. The music became his pulse. Lil' Jon and the East Side Boyz' lyrics were his theme. The bastard who stole his club was his.

  Over in Brazil, whatever he was tracking might not honor that council mark. Most likely it wouldn't. He needed to know that if something jumped off, he could handle it. This was personal and very primal. The kinda shit women didn't understand. Even lower levels over there were off da chain, just like in the human realms. You didn't fuck with the South American dealers without serious heat and a squad.

  Yeah, he was coming into his own, as power from the throne continued to take hold
of him, but it bothered him to no end that it had taken this long to build up some immunity to Damali's blood. If he was a lower level, and wasn't getting a nightly dose, who knows? But it was working in his system the way the antidote to snake bite did. Needed a little venom in the cure.

  Each time he bit her, he could actually feel his system absorb all of her passion, then take a jolt from the light within her as it threaded through his system and battled with it in his veins, temporarily weakening him, almost burning his insides—only to make him stronger when he came out of the bite. She woulda scorched the insides of a second-generation brother, slow heat implosion. Damn, she was awesome. Everything about the way she'd been designed was a lethal weapon… her eyes, her scent, the feel of her skin, her voice—even her blood, and it was designed to lure a master and slay him. And the Covenant and the council said ease up. Let his system regulate. Were they nuts? How?

  With power came certain privileges. The thought almost made him smile. He glimpsed her from the corner of his eye. Hopefully her system was building a tolerance, too, because he damned sure needed to bite her every night at this point.

  Carlos let his breath out hard and tried to push the nagging concerns to the back of his mind. He pumped the volume till he couldn't even hear the traffic around him. "Damn," by Bonecrusher, worked.

  Vibrations from the speakers nearly rocked the Chevy off the road. It didn't make sense that first night. He had been so blitzed that he couldn't even seal her wounds as he pulled out. Had sent the girl home all raggedy in the throat. He shook his head. That was some un-smooth, virgin vamp bullshit that still embarrassed him. Her people did not need to see that. He didn't blame them for the way they were acting. If it was his daughter… perish the thought. He changed the cut and blasted Nellie. Who you came wit? Yeah… shake your tail feather.