Master of Darkness

by Susan Sizemore

  Chapter Five

  She was asleep. Wearing a sports bra and underwear. Her tanned skin looked glorious against the pale pink sheets. The round curves of her breasts and hips were pretty glorious, too. Laurent stood in the doorway of the apartment’s other bedroom and resented the peaceful expression on the human’s face. She was all loose-limbed and relaxed, obviously not afflicted with bad dreams. The unfairness was enough to make his fangs ache.

  It annoyed him that she felt so safe being alone with a vampire, even if she did think he was one of the good guys. In his experience, even the good guys weren’t all that good. They were as continually hot and horny as any other kind of Prime. Maybe with better impulse control. But he’d heard plenty of stories of Clan and Family Primes taking what they wanted and justifying it later with all the bondmate crap.

  I don’t have to pretend to be civilized, he thought, wanting her.

  Eden Faveau was not conventionally beautiful, but he liked what he saw. She would take some taming, but—

  No! You tamed the ones you kept. He’d never been interested in that sort of thing; use ’em and move on was his lifestyle. Traveling light was safe and sensible—it was survival.

  But maybe once he got Justinian off his back…

  What, he could lead a normal life? As what?

  He wasn’t used to being so trapped with his own thoughts. Come to think of it, he wasn’t used to having a headache, either. He was willing to bet the two were related. And that the human woman he was standing here yearning over was somehow responsible.

  He strode forward and grasped Eden by the shoulder.

  There was an angel leaning over her. Long silver hair flowed over his broad shoulders, and there was a light of righteous fury in his gray eyes. Eden stared at this vision in wonder, not sure who he was or where she was.

  All she knew was that he was beautiful and—

  “Wha—?” she asked.

  Then she recognized Wolf, and remembered that she’d dragged herself to bed sometime in the middle of the afternoon after being up for nearly two days. She’d been asleep, and it was good. He’d woken her up. They were both dressed only in their underwear. That was as far as logic would go at the moment.

  “Wolf.” She looked past his broad shoulders. “What are you doing in my room?”

  “What are you doing to me?” he demanded.

  Huh? She’d been dreaming about doing some things with him, but she didn’t think that’s what he was talking about. ’Cause he didn’t look turned on, he looked pissed off.

  With no effort at all he pulled her to her feet. “Why does my head hurt?”

  “Your head hurts?”

  She had no idea. After all, he was a vampire, and they didn’t get sick like real people. Their bodies and their minds were different, and—

  Brains. Brain waves.

  “Oh,” she said, finally coming fully awake. “Sorry. It must be the zapper. I didn’t think how it might affect you.” He was glaring at her in a way that left her hot and flustered, and she was very aware of hands like velvet over titanium holding her arms. “It’s an electrical device meant to keep vampires out. I’ll go turn it off.”

  He released her. “You do that.”

  She hurried into the living room with the vampire following after. A large array of computers and surveillance equipment took up much of the room. There was a couch against one wall and a small dining table next to the entrance to the galley kitchen.

  Eden sat down and typed instructions on a keyboard, then flipped a couple of switches. Then she turned back to the vampire who was standing tensely in the middle of the room. After a few seconds, he visibly relaxed.

  “Better?” she asked.

  He rubbed his forehead, then nodded. “Don’t do that again.” He sighed and pulled his hair away from his face. “Coffee,” he said. “Blood.”

  “There’s blood in the fridge,” she answered.

  “Human?”

  “No way.”

  He sighed again. “You could get volunteers, you know. Or get it from a blood bank.”

  “You could provide your own,” she suggested. “We were just trying to be polite to an ally.”

  “If you really want to be polite …”

  He eyed her up and down, making her suddenly very nervous. But there was also something in his hot glance that made her nipples go hard, and fire shot through her. Along with an image of her lying beneath his hard weight on the floor, arching in pleasure as fangs sank deep into her flesh.

  He took a step toward her and ran his tongue over his lips while holding her gaze with his. “I could indeed provide my own nourishment. You’d enjoy it.” His voice was soft, and silky, and terribly inviting.

  There were weapons nearby, but she couldn’t reach for one. She could barely breathe as heat rose through her, and she wanted desperately to go to him. He was so—compelling.

  Then Wolf laughed, breaking the dark spell. He gestured toward her equipment. “Just a little revenge for being zapped. That thing gave me nightmares. Woman, you do not want a vampire having nightmares.”

  “That would be a bad idea,” she agreed. What kind of nightmares did monsters have? No, she didn’t want to know.

  She scurried off to get dressed when he went into the kitchen.

  This is a good setup, Laurent thought while he watched the cup of blood slowly spin around through the microwave’s window. Sweet.

  She’s sweet—in a “thinks she’s tough enough to handle me” sort of way. She looked hot and sexy when I called to her. Her expression went soft, but her eyes were hot, needy. I shouldn’t have stopped. I could have made us both happy right there on the floor.

  But Sid Wolf wouldn’t seduce his human partner. Laurent figured it was his strong sense of self-preservation that had stopped his impulse; that wasn’t the Clan way. And her believing he was a member of a Clan had its uses.

  Besides, it’s only a matter of time until the pretty lady succumbs to my charms. I’ll have her, and she’ll think it’s on her terms…until it’s too late.

  “Bwaahahahaaa,” he muttered.

  Meanwhile, there’s free meals and a place to rest. And this zapper thing to keep the bad guys at bay?

  No, he didn’t like that thought.

  He also didn’t know why having sex with Eden Faveau held any importance for him—but it did. Weird. He was having some sort of delusional fantasy about mastering a specific mortal female. Was he suicidal?

  She was hunter born and bred. Better to hire her as a bodyguard than try to make her into a pet. Okay, maybe the challenge of making her need him intrigued him, because of her ancestry. But hunter women didn’t even go with noble Clan boys, let alone a proudly scumbag misfit Tribe exile.

  Of course, the point of mastering a woman wasn’t about winning her over. Primes took. Primes possessed.

  And he wanted to possess her. Oh, yeah, he really did.

  Probably just because of that stupid dream.

  The microwave timer beeped and Laurent took a sniff before opening the door. The animal blood in the mug was warm enough to simulate freshness, so he drank it down quickly and had the mug washed before the mortal came out of her bedroom.

  He could hear her dressing, was aware of the delicious sound of cloth sliding over skin, but he didn’t give in to the urge to offer to help her take it off, rather than put it on.

  He really liked her scent. He remembered the texture of her lips, and the hot taste of her mouth.

  He gingerly touched the fangs suddenly pressing against his lower lip. Maybe what he needed was another cup of blood to tone down the physical cravings. He was a tad on the malnourished side, what with the fighting and the running at the Patron’s place. And, oh, yeah, the torture.

  The mortals had bound him with silver and drugged him, all in the name of science—which was a buzz term for humans wanting to steal what nature had given to another species. Typical human behavior. They took and used and dominated—and murdered every othe
r predator species on the planet. They were very good at justifying it, in the names of gods, in the names of progress, manifest destiny, survival of the fittest. Good versus evil, as defined by them.

  “Truth, justice, and the Homo sapiens way.”

  “I thought you were a Marvel man,” Faveau said, coming up behind him. “But you were paraphrasing a Superman line.”

  Why hadn’t he noticed her arrival? It wasn’t like him to be sloppy.

  And why, oh why, did he find her knowing the difference between D.C. and Marvel comic-book characters so appealing, when millions of people knew the differences? He didn’t find your average comic-book geek—

  “Just quoting an old vampire saying,” he answered.

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah. We Clan boys have a grudging admiration for you human types. Homo sapiens are more than just our favorite snack.”

  She obviously wasn’t sure if he was joking. “I see.”

  He’d reached into the refrigerator for the container of animal blood and held it up. “Care for a cup?”

  “I’ll make coffee,” she answered and sidled away, carefully not looking at him.

  “Tell me about this zapper thing,” he said while the coffee brewed and blood warmed.

  “Why don’t you put some clothes on,” she countered.

  “Your face is diverted from my shame?”

  She covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. Then she shrugged and looked him in the face. Then lower. Then back to his face. “I don’t think you have anything to be ashamed of.”

  He grinned as he shook his head. “You’re giving off some pretty mixed signals, Faveau.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “Agreed.”

  They turned away from each other, and lapsed into awkward silence. When the blood was ready, he carried it into the bedroom to go dress.

  Chapter Six

  When he came back, she was seated at the computer desk, sipping coffee. He fetched a mug of it for himself and took a seat beside her.

  She was checking e-mail, and he hoped that one of the messages wasn’t from a vampire named Sid Wolf, explaining why he hadn’t shown up at the appointed time and place the night before.

  “Anything from Clan Wolf?” he asked, prepared to run if the answer was yes.

  She gave him an odd look. “Why would there be, when we’re only supposed to use land lines to communicate with your people?”

  “Right. Forgot the security rules for this op, what with the headache you gave me. But it’s not as if the Tribes are exactly high-tech.”

  “They’re high-tech enough to develop Dawn.”

  He laughed. “No way.”

  “Really? Do you know something I don’t?”

  There was nothing suspicious about her question. What he felt from her was eager curiosity. She kind of sparkled, like champagne. There was an alluring brightness to her eyes, and the way she unconsciously leaned closer to him.

  Self-preservation kicked in before he did anything stupid.

  “I have some suspicions,” he answered.

  “Like what?”

  He held up a hand. “I asked you first.”

  Her brows came down over those bright eyes. “What question was that?”

  “About this zapper device. I’m worried about it,” he added with all the serious demeanor of a Clan boy he could muster. “I understand that you have it for defensive purposes, but I’d like to know what it is and how it works.”

  Her hunter paranoia was returning. “So you can figure out how to counter it?”

  “Of course not. I like the idea of a shield that keeps vampires at bay. What I don’t like is how it made me feel. I felt more like I was under psychic attack than being protected.”

  “It wasn’t designed as a weapon,” she protested.

  “Of course not,” he said. “Your people and mine have never been at war with each other.”

  She ignored this sarcasm. “Just how did it make you feel? I mean, it gave you nightmares and a headache. How bad can that be?”

  He decided on honesty. “Enough so that I might have attacked you while trapped inside a nightmare. I could have hurt you without meaning to. If I hurt someone, I want to know exactly why I’m doing it. My nature is violent, and it’s my job to control it. You could have turned me into a weapon. Unintentionally, of course.”

  She’d gone pale, and Laurent took that as a good sign.

  She pointed to a device sitting on a nearby shelf. The small components looked like random stereo equipment that had met and mated during a hurricane.

  “I have no idea how it works,” she told him. “It’s a modern addition to warding a safe house with the traditional stuff like garlic and hawthorn. It’s supposed to keep vampire telepaths from finding us, not hurt anybody. I’ve no idea how to tone it down. My brother’s the electrical engineer; I’m the software engineer side of the family.”

  This information caught Laurent by delighted surprise. “Really? You’re a computer geek?” He desperately needed someone to break into the Patron’s laptop. “You’re into software?”

  Eden nodded. “A girl’s got to have a day job. Nobody hunts vampires for a living these days. Do you have a day—night—job?”

  “I’m a gigolo.”

  “Right.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  She shook her head.

  Laurent knew that if there was one thing people found irresistible, it was being asked what they did for a living in a genuinely interested tone. “What do you do with computers, exactly? Web design? Game development?”

  “Systems security,” she answered, with a proud lift of her head. Then she launched into technical terminology that left him totally lost. But he kept an interested expression on his face and went for another cup of coffee as soon as she paused for breath.

  “We really ought to get to work,” she said when he returned.

  “The night is still very young. You don’t look very well rested.” He grinned. “Maybe we should go back to bed.” When she looked annoyed, he added, “Or there’s Hell on Earth Week on the History Channel. We wouldn’t want to miss the show on Devil’s Isla—”

  “I’ve already set a tape.”

  “Well, then.” He rubbed his hands together. “I suppose we should get to work soon.”

  She glanced at the computer screen. “I wish we had an update on what’s been learned during the day.”

  His original plan had been to hang around a while longer, seduce Eden, then continue his quest to find a hacker. And maybe a Dawn dealer. He wouldn’t mind giving this Dawn stuff a shot; it’d be nice to see daylight without worrying about getting a fatal sunburn. He’d had a small hope of using this zapper thing as a personal anti-vampire shield, if it could be turned down. Then she’d told him about her job.

  The Families had this belief that fate played a big role in the lives of vampires. It was thought that when your life was at a major crisis and you needed your fated bondmate most, they appeared and gave you what you needed to survive. It was a lot of mystical claptrap, especially the bondmate stuff, but the belief was based on a very high percentage of coincidences that seemed to prove the point. Of course, the Families also had an old-fashioned belief in a witchy-woman moon goddess and were only slightly less matriarchal than the whipped Clan boys.

  But it looked like fate or dumb luck had intervened for good, for once in his miserable life: he’d found a hacker. He still intended seduction, of course, but without any of that bonding nonsense.

  He decided to answer a question Eden had asked earlier. This time it was a fair exchange rather than a gift.

  “You asked if I knew something you didn’t, when I was mocking the idea of the Tribes developing Dawn. I might have some information that you specifically can help with.”

  “Might? Me?”

  It seemed logical to continue with the world-saving Clan Prime mode. The weird thing was, he had been involved in the noble expedition to stop the Patro
n.

  “I picked up some information on my last assignment. There was a mortal who called himself the Patron. He was from a hunter family, the Garrisons.”

  She nodded, but looked disapproving. “One of the many retired families.”

  “Garrison was extremely wealthy. He started by stealing from Tribe Manticore, and built a fortune from his ill-gotten gains.”

  “Manticores? The lowest-of-the-low, scumbag Manticores once had a fortune? Who’d they steal it from?”

  “From a great many people,” he acknowledged. “But the point is, Garrison stole it from them. Who’s the worse scumbag?” He held up a hand. “Never mind. He used his fortune to fund longevity research. Not because he wanted to help the world, but because he wanted to live forever himself. He experimented on vampires to try to find out why we live so long. The vampires were not volunteers. And some of the scientists working for him were renegades from Clan research facilities. We got it all straightened out,” he concluded vaguely. “In the cleanup operation, I’ve come into possession of Garrison’s laptop computer, but I haven’t had time to do anything with it yet.”

  He hadn’t actually stolen it from the Patron’s Colorado stronghold. The laptop had been given to the Manticores as reparation by Garrison’s great-granddaughter when she found out what her evil grandpa was up to. Laurent had risked his life to get the computer for the Manticores; he just hadn’t bothered to turn it over to Justinian.

  Whatever he did with the computer, he had to do it soon. Not only were the remnants of Justinian’s pack after him, he had to worry about the information stored on the hard drive. He didn’t think the Clans would do anything to block access to whatever was stored in the laptop—say, the passwords for hidden bank accounts—since the Manticores had been promised whatever financial rewards they could extract from the information. The Clans kept their promises—they were rich enough to be able to.

  But humans were another worry altogether. There might be someone in the Patron’s organization with access to passwords, or at least clues on how to break in. So Laurent needed to get into the computer as quickly as possible.