Kos froze and Andre dealt the cards.
Finally, Kos spoke. “Did you tell her about Mother?”
“No.” He was not fool enough to tell Zoey about Mila. So what if the spark between them was not merely sexual chemistry? That didn’t change anything. He would not be bonded to a woman again. “I could not risk that much intimacy.”
“So you decided to have sex instead?”
Not this again. Kos’s jab was boringly predictable. His noble son only took lovers he cared about, even if he often had more than one at a time. He had judged Andre’s forays into San Francisco for anonymous sex cold and empty. Which was precisely the point.
“We agreed to keep it casual.”
“How’d that work for you?” Kos provoked further.
“What do you want me to say? ‘You’re right, son. Sex is beautiful and it should mean something when you do it, and because the only woman I’ve ever loved in two thousand years decided she would slit her wrists rather than be with me, I just won’t do it anymore.’” Andre stood, leaning over the coffee table toward Kos, his volume rising to a yell. “Even though I am a red-blooded male who feeds from aroused women and who can’t—” What did the boys say? “—jack off!”
He could not remember the last time he had yelled. Was it when Mila had killed herself, or a few years later when the Hunters came? Now he had revealed to Kos just how much Zoey had gotten under his skin.
Kos held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, fair enough. I was being an ass. But clearly, with Zoey it did mean some—”
“Kos, she’s gone. I do not want to talk about her anymore. We’ll assume she is safely returned to her Ethan Bennett.”
“What if he learns she had sex with you? Will she be safe?”
Davo. “I had not considered that they might treat her like a member of my household.” The wine in his gut sloshed as his stomach flip flopped. “You don’t think she’d tell him, do you?”
“For her sake, I hope not.”
Chapter 22
PEDRO DIDN’T KNOW what time it was. He could no longer see the sun through the cracks around the shed’s door, but it was still very hot in his makeshift cell. He figured it had been about twenty-four hours since he’d been kidnapped. Longest day of his life. When would they be back to continue the interrogation?
What he couldn’t guess was how long he had been unconscious. When he awoke there was a tin cup of water on the floor next to him and another cup with something that looked like instant oatmeal in it. The gluey cinnamon-spiced mush revived him a little. It was good to get the taste of his own blood out of his mouth.
His ribs ached when he breathed. One eye was swollen shut. He managed to limp to the corner of the shed to relieve himself. As he had expected, he pissed blood—from a bruised kidney or something worse, he didn’t know. It was by far the worst beating of his life. But one calculated to keep him alive for questioning.
God damn. How did he end up here? He tested his jaw, stiff from the punch Lucas had landed on his face when Pedro was still trying to read his lips. Then he flashed all the way back to their hungry mouths joining in the office of the tasting room. He’d wanted more, had thought often of that kiss. But now the image of that yellow-eyed bastard made his whole body throb with anger. He would kill Bennett if he had the chance.
He had not revealed anything to the Hunters. Did they suspect he was withholding, or did they believe him to be ignorant? He didn’t know. Neither option was good: torture or death. Pedro’s mind went to the horrible things they could do to extract information from him. He could withstand another round of beating, but he feared other kinds of pain. His heart began to race with frightened anticipation. Keep it together, he told himself. What can you do? What choices do you have?
Pedro looked around the shed. Besides the work table pushed against one wall, there wasn’t much. There was definitely no way out, and no potential weapons. Well, there was one way out. There was an exposed metal beam supporting the roof of the shed, which crossed over the worktable. His belt around that beam, then around his neck, a step off the table…that was the only exit Pedro could think of. He wasn’t ready yet, but if they resorted to other kinds of torture…
Anything was better than being a powerless victim of those sickos. Strangely, he felt better having that option. He was ultimately in control of his life, even if his control lay in ending it.
Chapter 23
IN THE FLUORESCENT LIGHT of the rustic motel bathroom, Zoey took a shower. Her composure had returned, but after her brush with panic, she was exhausted.
As she rinsed off the remnants of sex with Andre, she tried to process everything Ethan had told her about vampires. Blood-drinking predators disguised as humans frightened her, but Andre did not. Images of vampires she had seen in movies played in her mind—pale, with slicked back hair, wearing black capes lined with red satin. In spite of her shock, the idea of Andre in a cape made her want to laugh. His olive skin, his warm body so clearly not dead—whatever he was, it didn’t fit with her image of a vampire.
She remembered his eyes bright with tenderness in the mirror across from his desk. After she had seen his fangs and told him she was leaving, another expression had formed on his face. She would have missed it if she hadn’t been alert for evidence he was a vampire. The look was grief. It was the look of someone who had lost something that mattered more than life itself and it wasn’t for her; he didn’t know her well enough to feel that way. Yet her departure reminded him of something. What had he lost to leave him so sad? Her heart ached for him, in spite of her confusion.
Once she dried off, she changed into the pajamas she hadn’t worn at Kaštel.
Ethan sat on his bed, flipping channels on the TV. She turned down the bedclothes on the other bed and climbed in. He turned off the television and the light. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
In the darkness, Zoey realized she had too many questions to sleep. “Ethan, I thought of something in the shower.”
He yawned. “What’s that?”
“Why were you looking for Andre—for Maras, I mean?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t make anything of the intimacy.
“I told you, our people have been hunting him for years.”
“But, I mean, what will you do now that you’ve found him?”
“Don’t worry, Zoey. You’re safe. My father has three dozen Hunters planning an attack right now.”
“You’re going to attack him? At the Estate?”
“Probably. He’s unlikely to leave.”
Zoey needed to see Ethan’s face, needed to see his expression as he answered her questions. She pushed up on her elbows and turned on the light. “How did your family wind up in the business of vampire hunting?”
Ethan sat up too, swinging his legs off the bed so he could face her. He was just wearing his boxers, and it made her feel surprisingly awkward, given she’d been naked with him three days ago.
“It’s really more than a family business. We’re members of a larger family. I guess you could call us a clan. We’re all related, spread out all over the world, Hunting vampires.”
“A clan?” Andre had used the word to describe his own kind. He’d implied they were an ethnic minority or something, but all along, he’d meant vampires.
“Yes. We marry within the clan and pass on its traditions. The Hunters are very old.”
“How old?” Zoey brushed a stray lock of hair off her brow.
“Prehistoric.”
She dropped her feet off the bed and leaned toward him. “No way.”
“It’s true. We have ancient artifacts proving Hunters slew vampires before humans invented writing.”
A memory came to mind—the burdened curve of Andre’s shoulders hunched over a bar. “But why hunt them?”
“It’s an ancient battle against vampires. They’re powerful and seductive. We can’t allow them to take over the world and turn us into cattle, as you put it. Someone has to pass on the knowledge of their evil and
protect humans. Hunters like me have been trying to exterminate them from the beginning of time.” Ethan said the words so calmly, he could have been talking about the weather, his tone a bizarre mismatch to the meaning of the words. Zoey had to think twice before she understood.
“Like vampire genocide?”
“They aren’t people.”
The story finally clicked—it was Andre’s description of an ethnic conflict, but from the other side. She had thought he was paranoid. Instead, he had every reason to fear for the safety of his fellow vampires.
“So when you capture him, will you take him to some kind of vampire prison?”
Ethan huffed. “We won’t capture him. We’ll kill him. That’s what Hunting means, Zoey.”
“Oh.”
“I know it’s hard to understand because you saw him masquerading as a human. But he is a bloodthirsty predator. His kind is an ever-present danger to humans. They must be killed.”
Genocide of any kind didn’t sit right with her, but Zoey sensed it was a bad idea to disagree with him. She didn’t like this creepy side of Ethan at all, and she would get away from him first thing in the morning.
“What about the humans that live with him? Pedro and all the women? How will you get them out before you attack?”
“I’m not used to seeing this sensitive side of you. Can’t you see that they’ve been seduced by Marasović? They betrayed humanity and allowed themselves to be brainwashed. There’s nothing we can do for them. They have to die.”
If Ethan thought it would be evident to Zoey that they had to be killed, he was truly insane. What if he knew she’d had sex with Andre? Would he want to kill her too? For the first time, she began to feel frightened. She stifled a little cry.
Too quickly, he was next to her, holding her and offering comfort. He smoothed her hair and shushed her. “I know this is a lot to take. You’re safe now. Don’t worry.”
Inside Zoey recoiled from his touch, but she didn’t let him feel her reaction. It might well be dangerous for him to know how much her feelings had changed.
“Thank you, Ethan. I’m okay. Let’s try to get some sleep.” She pulled away from him to make it clear that she wasn’t inviting him into her bed.
He stood up and returned to his own. Soon his breathing settled into the steady pace of sleep.
There was no chance she’d sleep. Her mind raced with pictures of Andre and his beautiful home under attack. The fries in her stomach turned to rocks. And there was Kos and Pedro—she liked them. Oh God, and all the women who worked for him—Susan and Ally and the others. She was going to throw up. Sitting up, she inhaled for a count of three and exhaled just as long. By the time her nausea eased, she had a plan.
After hours of lying awake and nervous in the dark, she gave up on sleep, yet somehow it came. When she actually awoke she was surprised to discover she’d dozed.
Ethan was gone from the dark hotel room. A note rested on his bed; it said he would be back with breakfast by eight a.m. According to Zoey’s watch, it was seven-fifteen.
She pulled on jeans and a light sweater, the last clean top in her suitcase. Quickly, she brushed her teeth and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Jitters made her nauseous and sped up all her movements. After scrawling a note to Ethan saying she had gone home, she jogged down the main street, dragging her rolling suitcase behind her. She drove away from Forestville fifteen minutes later and hoped that, wherever Ethan was, she wouldn’t pass him on the road.
Chapter 24
ANDRE AND KOS TOSSED DOWN CARDS in silence. After his outburst, the tension had diminished to a simmer between them. Andre let his mind wander and rest, while some place in the back of his brain attended to the card game. Footsteps in the cellar roused him from the nearly hypnotic state.
Seconds later, the door flung open so hard the knob hit the brick wall. Andre winced, expecting bad news, but Bel had just kicked the door open because his hands were full. In an even tone, he said, “The vampires are patrolling the perimeter.”
“Find anything?” Andre asked.
“Not so far.”
What would the Hunters do? With Zoey gone, an attack seemed likely.
“I’m going to run some experiments with the wine.” Bel bounced a metal case. Presumably his supplies were inside. “Can I have a vial of blood from each of you?”
Andre unbuttoned his cuff in a silent agreement.
Bel went to Kos first. “Do either of you need sleep?” he asked, as he tied a tourniquet around Kos’s arm and drew the blood.
“No, we don’t sleep,” Kos replied.
Thankfully their wasting disease had not progressed that far.
“What about you? Do you sleep these days?” Andre asked as Bel drew near.
Bel palpated a vein in the crook of his arm. “About an hour a day. It helps clear my mind. Any more makes me lethargic.” Bel placed the needle square in the vein so fast he could have been a vampire.
The vial filled with his deep red blood. “That’s less than you used to need.”
“Much less. I learned to focus better. My brain doesn’t get so cluttered.” He removed the needle from Andre’s arm, and the small puncture closed immediately. Andre licked his thumb and wiped off the droplet of clotted blood. “Perhaps I’ll find something useful from these.” Bel placed different colored caps on each of the vials.
Andre rolled down his sleeve and buttoned his cuff as Bel made for the door.
“Good night,” he said as he stepped out.
Wordlessly, Kos dealt another hand and they played game after game.
Hours later, tires screeched to a halt in the driveway.
“Who the hell is that?” Kos asked.
Pedro? Hope surged up in Andre. Then someone knocked urgently on the front door. Pedro wouldn’t knock unless he was without his keys.
“Hurry!” Andre said. They sped through the cellar and up the stairs. With his new strength, Andre beat Kos to the door by a full quarter of a minute and opened it. Careful to stay in the shadows created by the narrow overhang, no sunlight reached him directly. But a radiant heat made his skin tingle. Or maybe it was just her.
Zoey stood on the other side, nervously biting her lower lip. When she released it, it was deep pink and a little swollen. He wanted to catch it between his own teeth.
“Fuck,” he said.
“Nice to see you, too.”
“Go home, Zoey.”
“Andre, they’re coming after you.”
He couldn’t believe she was here. His gums were aching where his fangs wanted to extend; his breath was getting shallower. He had to have her. If she didn’t leave, he would have her and he would regret it for the rest of his immortal life.
“We know, Zoey. Go home.” He tried to keep his voice calm.
“You already know?”
“We knew weeks ago, and we knew you were with them.”
“But I didn’t—” She shook her head. “Never mind. Listen, he said they have three dozen men,” Zoey persisted.
“Zoey. Get. The hell. Out of here.”
“I told them about the wine.”
“What?” Kos roared as he spun toward Andre. “What did you tell her?”
What had he told her? His fangs and his cock refused to let him remember. “I don’t know. Bring her inside. Figure out what she told them. Then, get rid of her. I’m going back to my office.”
He didn’t make it to the office. He sat down on the bottom step in the cellar. In the sanctuary of the cool darkness, he breathed slowly until he managed to calm his raging desires. He wanted her gone and he wanted her to still want him after seeing his fangs. The conflicting desires pulled his muscles into knots that wine and cards with Kos had done little to relax.
The floorboards muffled Kos’s and Zoey’s voices, and he had to concentrate to hear. He leaned his head against the wall and listened.
Stunned, Zoey glared at Andre’s back. Kos took her by the elbow and began walking. Even though it was a gentle touch
, he was too close to be friendly, his shoulders were pulled back in an alert posture, his eyes darted quickly around the entryway. Everything about the way he moved commanded her to walk with him. It erased her last trace of doubt—there was definitely a predator inside him. Her spine went rigid, and she remained on alert as she walked alongside. But nothing about his actions triggered her panic. Then he did something so civilized it put her completely at ease.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Thank you. I do need a cup. Guess I can have the whole pot to myself?”
“Sometimes I like to smell a little.” He shouted down to the kitchen, “Susan, can you send up a pot of coffee in the dumbwaiter?” Then he steered her into the sunny parlor.
“What’s wrong with Andre?”
“I need to know about the Hunters first, Zoey.”
Fair enough. It was a life or death situation for them. Her confusion about how Andre had greeted her was minor in comparison, but his greeting certainly stung. Last night he had fucked her like he loved her—she hadn’t even known that was possible. And this morning he told her to get out of his house and go home. She wanted to warn him, to help him remain safe, but they had agreed to keep things casual. Did he think she’d come back here to cozy up to him and play house? Arrogant jerk.
Kos sat her on a sofa facing the wide swath of French doors and took an armchair for himself.
“What did my father tell you about the wine?”
Her empty stomach clenched. Had she ruined everything for them? She gulped. Press on, tell the truth, remain confident.
“Remember when you learned I knew about the Croatian refugees?”
“Yes.”
“That’s what he told me. That your, uh, people fled Croatia in an ethnic conflict and that you dispersed and changed your names in order to hide from your enemies. I thought he sounded so paranoid at the time.”
“I bet.”
“Anyway, I realized there was something he wasn’t telling me about why you hired me. When I pushed him, he admitted he hoped for a way to reestablish contact with the others. These are the other vampires that fled when Ethan’s psychotic ancestors tried to kill them all, right?”
Blood Vine Page 15