Sophia

by D. B. Reynolds

  There was no music or television to be heard, and only muted conversation, which only made his task easier. He listened closely and isolated the beating hearts of—he cocked his head, counting—thirteen humans, one of whom was near death. With the two sentries whose hearts would never beat again, that made fifteen humans altogether. Raphael had himself and seven vampires, including Duncan and Juro. It was hardly a fair fight. For the humans.

  “Duncan?”

  “Ready, my lord.”

  Raphael shrugged away the façade of humanity that he wore like a cloak, released the bonds that kept his power concealed and let it flow out of him like a river of molten silver. It warmed his veins and sped the pumping of his heart, pushing his lungs to expand more fully with every breath. It was a heady rush that had his lips drawing back in a vicious smile of pure exhilaration, his fangs emerging from his gums as he became the purest form of what he was . . . Vampire.

  He lowered his head and focused on the flimsy structure in front of him. He could knock it down with a single brush of his power, could snuff out every living creature cowering within its walls. But that would be too easy, too kind to those who had dared harm what was most precious to him. And his vampires deserved to join in this hunt.

  He let his power swell outward to touch the human dwelling, heard their cries of fear as the walls shook around them, tasted their terror as it drenched their cowardly minds.

  “Garry McWaters,” he whispered, sending his words lofting on a thread of power so that every being inside the dwelling would hear it as if spoken directly into his own ear. “Come out and face me if you dare.”

  Raphael waited, unconcerned. There was little possibility of his prey escaping. Even if the humans somehow managed to sneak out of the house, his vampires would catch them before they’d taken more than a few steps. And if by some completely unlikely stroke of luck they managed to take out one of his vampires, perhaps they deserved to live.

  Or perhaps Raphael would wait until they believed themselves safe, and then he would hunt them down and kill them.

  After a few moments, he heard low voices from inside, urgent words quickly hushed. The locks snapped back and the door opened. The lights within had been turned off, but that was more of a disadvantage to the humans than to him. They clearly had little understanding of whom they’d set themselves against when they’d taken on Raphael and his vampires.

  Several men emerged finally from the shadows inside the house, edging slowly onto the narrow wooden porch where they spread out, shotguns and other weapons at the ready. Juro tensed, but Raphael watched impassively as one of their number separated from the rest, taking the steps down to the yard.

  The human was a big man, nearly as big as Raphael himself. His head had been shaved bald and he wore clothing similar to that of Raphael’s hunters, black combat gear with lace-up boots. There were two weapons visible, and more concealed on his person.

  Juro started to step forward, no doubt intending to disarm the man, but Raphael stopped him with a thought. This one was his, no else’s.

  Raphael frowned. There was something draped around the man’s neck and shoulders, crisscrossed over his chest.

  He stared at it, then raised his gaze to the human’s in disbelief.

  “That’s right, vampire,” the human taunted. “Pure silver. Suck on that!”

  Raphael exchanged a silent signal with Duncan, and then he moved. Faster than McWaters’s primitive senses could detect, Raphael stripped away the man’s guns and tossed them to one side, while Duncan hit the others with a mental blast that sent them reeling, dropping their weapons as they fell to their knees, one of them vomiting over the side of the porch.

  Raphael took a single step back and paused intentionally, smiling at the look of shock in the man’s eyes at finding himself all alone, face-to-face with the big, bad vampire, and weaponless. He recovered with admirable speed, however, puffing out his chest, confident in the protection of his silver talismans.

  Raphael’s smile took on a mocking edge as he reached out, grabbed one of the silver medallions studding the human’s thick chest, and snapped the chain holding it in place. Flipping the hunk of silver in his fingers, he held it up in front of McWaters’s face.

  “Ssssst,” he hissed and laughed when the man jerked in surprise, his eyes gone wide with fear.

  Raphael grinned, revealing the full length of his fangs. All around the clearing his vampires roared as they reacted to the surge of vicious satisfaction emanating from their Sire.

  “Garry McWaters, I assume,” Raphael confirmed unnecessarily.

  McWaters just stared at him, clearly terrified. And he had reason to be, because for him the terror was just beginning.

  “Kneel,” Raphael said calmly.

  McWaters started to shake his head, but Raphael slipped the command straight into his brain. “Now,” he added.

  The human hit the ground with a soft grunt of pain. Raphael looked down and saw the silver glow of his own eyes bathing the man’s face in light. He brushed back his leather coat and began flipping the bit of silver medallion back and forth over the knuckles of his right hand.

  “You should know, human, that I am Raphael. It was my mate you targeted. My mate you bragged about trapping in your cowardly ambush. My vampires you murdered in cold blood.”

  Thinking of Cyn’s pain, of Marco and Preston’s terror, Raphael’s vision washed out in a haze of red for a moment. Everything in him screamed for vengeance, urging him to squash this human like a bug. But he wanted him to suffer first.

  Raphael’s vision cleared and he contented himself with a small sliver of power, smiling in satisfaction as a series of sharp pops radiated from McWaters’s right arm. The man grunted in shock at first and then screamed as every bone in his arm cracked in sequence, one at a time.

  Raphael leaned closer and whispered. “What do you think, human? Am I weak? Am I huddled in a corner terrified by your brazen display of courage in sending a dozen men to kill a single woman?”

  McWaters only stared up at him, his eyes wide and unfocused with pain, tears lost in the sweat soaking his pale face.

  Not enough. Not nearly enough.

  Raphael studied the man, pretending a curiosity he didn’t feel. “Would you like to beg for your life? It probably won’t help, but you never know, and I’m quite certain my vampires would find it entertaining.”

  Despite his fear, the human’s jaw clenched and he shook his head. “Just don’t make me one of you,” he rasped. “I’d rather die.”

  Raphael reached down and grabbed the big man by his throat, lifting him effortlessly until his feet dangled several inches above the ground.

  “That won’t be a problem.”

  * * * *

  Raphael crouched by what remained of Garry McWaters. The human’s intestines had been shredded and were gushing poison into his system. Raphael had especially wanted him to experience the precise agony he had inflicted upon Cyn. Every bone in his body had been broken, as well, but the human was still alive, his spine still intact to ensure he felt every ounce of pain. Raphael had made sure of it. He’d also made sure to retrieve every bit of information the human possessed about this plot against his vampires.

  “One last lesson before I send you to hell,” Raphael said, pushing his coat back behind him to get it out of the way.

  “Never, ever, touch what is mine.”

  He slammed his fist into McWaters’s chest, grabbed his heart and squeezed. The human screeched feebly, the only sound he had the strength left to make. Raphael looked up and captured the man’s gaze, and then he ripped the beating heart from his chest and stood, eyeing it dispassionately.

  “Do you think my Cyn would like a souvenir?” he asked Duncan.

  Duncan leaned sideways to study the dripping organ. “Probably not, my lord.”

  “No,” Raphael agreed. He exerted a small amount of power and the heart went up in flames, turning to ash in seconds, soon joined by the rest of McWaters’
s body.

  Raphael brushed his hands off briskly and looked toward the house. The remaining humans were huddled against its walls, rendered harmless by terror. They still had weapons, but were unable to muster the will to use them as long as Duncan and the other vampires filled their heads with nightmare visions of what awaited them.

  “Shall we deal with these others now?” Raphael asked, flashing Duncan a quick grin. “I didn’t bring my hunters all the way out here only to watch.”

  He gave Duncan a nod and stood back, smiling in satisfaction as his vampires howled their release, as the shackles of civilization fell away and they were given free rein to hunt, to rip and tear, to drink blood flowing hot and fresh from the vein, as the heart of their prey fluttered beneath their palms. Willing donors were fine, far better than bagged blood, but nothing beat the viscous gush of heat as a vampire tore out the throat of his prey and reaped the reward of a successful hunt.

  Raphael leaned against the SUV and waited, as the human killers were freed from their nightmares and the true terror began.

  Sometime later, Duncan appeared from beneath the trees, strolling over to where Raphael sat in the open door of an SUV.

  “Judging by the photographs in Cynthia’s cell phone, my lord, I would estimate that the bulk of her attackers were here. The hunters with Sophia and Mister Murphy may be disappointed.”

  “Perhaps,” Raphael said absently. His attention was on the distant compound where Cyn was beginning to stir from the deep healing trance he’d woven around her. He turned back to focus on Duncan. “Is that everyone?”

  “Yes. Juro is cleaning up the last of them now. By morning, there will be no trace that anyone was here, other than their vehicles.”

  “Any blood traces?”

  Duncan nodded. “Both inside the cabin and in two of the trucks. All human, none of them ours.”

  It was a delicate way of saying there was no scent of Cyn on the premises or in the vehicles. Raphael debated what to do next. He could leave things the way they were, or torch both the cabin and vehicles, leaving nothing but a blackened pile for anyone who came looking. But there would be no bodies either way.

  A very few of the humans had invited death, cowering inside the cabin, believing they’d be safe there, that his vampires couldn’t enter the dwelling. Unfortunately for them, once McWaters died, the cabin was no longer anyone’s home, which made it akin to an office building where anyone could come and go—including vampires.

  The rest, those who had come outside with McWaters in the first place, had at least fought back and provided his vampires with a good hunt. Not that any escaped. That was never even a possibility. And once the hunting was done, Duncan and Juro had incinerated the bodies, just as Raphael had disposed of McWaters. Not every vampire had the power to do so, but Raphael surrounded himself with power, not with weakness.

  “Leave the cabin as it is,” he said finally. “Have one of the vehicles dropped in the bar’s parking lot. It will give the investigators something to think about when they discover the owner’s body there. Leave the rest of the vehicles here. But make very certain the bodies are gone and any other evidence as well, Duncan. The human authorities may have their suspicions, but they’ll have no proof we were here.”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  Raphael turned in the direction of the compound once again, drawn almost against his will. Cyn wasn’t doing it consciously, but her need called to him and that was enough.

  “I need to return,” he said abruptly. He started around the SUV intending to drive himself, but Duncan issued a sharp command and two vampires appeared out of the darkness, their black combats reeking of blood and violence. Raphael glanced down at his own clothes. He would have to shower before seeing Cyn.

  * * * *

  Raphael leapt from the SUV while it was still rolling, his cell phone to his ear.

  “My lord,” Saephan’s voice answered immediately.

  “I’m in the building,” Raphael said as Juro’s twin held the door open for him. “I’ll shower in the guards’ quarters and be there momentarily.”

  He didn’t bother asking his guards if anything had happened while he was out. If it had they would have contacted him. Instead, he took the left-hand hallway out of the great room, heading for the wing opposite the one where he had his private quarters, hitting the door to the basement stairs at a near run.

  He slammed open the door of the first room he came to, noting absently that it was currently in use by one of his male vampires. The odds had favored him, but it was fortunate all the same, because he intended to borrow some clothes. Equally fortunate was the fact that this section was reserved for Raphael’s personal security and those vampires tended to be bigger than average.

  He tore off his bloodied and filthy clothing, dropping it into a pile. Someone would retrieve it later. What could be saved would be cleaned and returned to him. Anything else would be burned. He stepped into the shower while it was still warming up, soaping his body and washing his hair with quick economical movements. He could feel Cyn’s restlessness. On some level, she knew he was near and she wanted him closer. And, although he’d been gone only a few hours, he needed to see her again, needed to see with his own eyes that she was well, before the sun rose and deprived him of his senses.

  He rubbed a towel over his wet hair as he rummaged through the available clothing. A pair of sweats and a T-shirt came to hand, which was all he needed.

  Two minutes later and he was back upstairs—barefoot, his hair still wet, towel in hand, heading across the great room to his private quarters in the opposite wing. Wei Chen stepped out of the office as Raphael strode by. The Seattle nest leader opened his mouth to say something, probably to ask about the hunt, but Raphael spoke first.

  “The human woman you have working for you,” he said. “Will she be here tomorrow?” He didn’t slow down, forcing Wei Chen to hurry along next to him.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Find an excuse to keep her tomorrow until after sunset. I’ll have someone follow her when she leaves. And I’ll want to meet with you privately first thing. Bring her records. Do you understand?”

  “Of course, my lord. Is there anything—”

  “Nothing.” He turned his attention away from the Seattle leader, nodding instead to Elke who looked as if she hadn’t moved the entire time he was gone. He hurried past her and entered the code to call his private elevator, waiting impatiently for it to arrive. The ride down was interminable and he shot through the opening doors as soon as they’d widened enough to accommodate his shoulders.

  Dr. Saephan stood, calm despite Raphael’s precipitous arrival. No doubt he’d heard the elevator’s departure and known what it meant.

  “Lord Raphael,” he said, bowing slightly.

  “She is well?”

  “Very well, my lord. I’ve removed her IV for now. The bag would have needed changing during the day, and she’ll be fine without it for those few hours. What she needs most she will have, and that is you, my lord. Speaking of which—”

  Saephan paused as if gauging Raphael’s mood before continuing. Raphael tore his gaze away from Cyn to give him an inquiring look.

  “There is blood in the refrigerator, my lord, if you have need of it.”

  Raphael didn’t move. Under normal circumstances, he took blood from his mate and no other. But that was obviously impossible in her current condition. So either Saephan feared that Raphael’s hunger would drive him to take blood from her anyway, and thus endanger her life. Or he was honestly concerned that Raphael might be neglecting his own health in his preoccupation with healing Cyn.

  Raphael chose to believe the latter.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” he said, his gaze meeting Saephan’s without blinking. “We’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Raphael waited until he heard the doors open upstairs and close again, confirming with a quick probe that the elevator was empty. He then called it
back and locked it down for the night, pulling the vault door across the small vestibule and securing that as well.

  Stripping off his borrowed clothes, he slipped into bed next to Cyn. She was wearing one of Raphael’s t-shirts, obviously selected by Dr. Saephan after bathing her. Cyn rarely wore nightclothes of any kind and almost certainly had not brought any with her on this trip. Raphael experienced a surprisingly visceral pleasure at seeing her in his clothes and mocked himself silently. Perhaps he wasn’t as far above primitive man as he liked to believe.

  He slid closer, wrapping his body around her carefully. “I’m here, lubimaya,” he said unnecessarily. Cyn’s entire body relaxed as she turned into him, her breath running out in a long, slow exhalation that warmed the naked skin of his chest. Raphael closed his eyes in relief and placed a gentle hand beneath the shirt she wore, resting it against the bare skin of her lower back. They both needed the contact. But in this case, his need might have been greater than hers.