The numerous wolves retrieved their belongings and marched as best they could into the cavernous facility already filled with thousands upon thousands of waiting wolves, all eager to see the ‘First Family’ of the pack. None more anxious than the son of the First Bitch, Viktor olim Verissimo nunc Veranus. With his eyes now open to what he believed to be the truth, he was ready to challenge the hierarchy and take his rightful place as the Master of the Pack.
The new wolves entered, taking in the new surroundings, most of them feeling their stomachs sink or their hearts drop as they absorbed the giant underground facility. The industrial feel of the place with only the barest of essentials provided made most feel as though they had been dropped into the wild, and a very deserted wild at that.
Max watched from the doorway as Viktor stared down the group from the center of the facility. Victoria had still not noticed him as she looked around, her bags hanging from each hand. When her head swung around and her eyes and nose caught Viktor’s presence, she froze in place, as did most of her entourage. Her eyes widened at first and Viktor’s brows creased with curiosity as he noted first pleasure and amazement cross her features, but only for a moment before she masked her face and her eyes narrowed on him.
“How are you here?” she asked quietly. “You have duties elsewhere.”
“I am fulfilling my duties,” Viktor stated matter-of-factly. “But I bring forth a formal challenge.” He stepped forward with purpose, his eyes never leaving hers. He studied her face as he approached and allowed his voice to rise so that ALL wolves within the facility could hear his challenge plainly. “I challenge for my birthright! For the position of Master of the Pack!”
A wolf from the rear of her entourage stated, “He cannot challenge, he has been outcast.”
She glared behind her then turned back to Viktor. “He is not outcast,” she announced plainly. “He and his were only…assigned extended duties away from the pack proper.” She turned her attentions to her husband. “That’s not outcast.”
Max ignored her, but his eyes showed disapproval of her actions.
“Who leads MY pack?” Viktor asked.
“We’ve had a few…changes…in leadership, as of late, my son,” Victoria stated. “It seems our prior Pack Master fell into a string of bad luck and found himself challenged. Then the new Master appeared weak and he was challenged.”
“WHO LEADS?” Viktor yelled.
A very large and heavily muscled man stepped forward, pushing his way past the rest of the entourage. His neck was as thick as an oak tree and Viktor could have sworn that his knuckles actually dragged the ground. He assessed the man, looking for a weakness. The only immediate one might be that he was so heavily muscled that he couldn’t reach his ass to wipe it after taking a dump. The man thumped his chest loudly and exclaimed, “I LEAD!”
“Do you recognize my challenge?” Viktor asked.
Before the man could answer, Victoria stepped between them, “You cannot challenge, my son.” Viktor shot her an evil glare before she continued, “It is not the full moon.”
Max finally stepped forward. “As the Alpha of all Alphas, I waive that rule.” A small curve of his lip started to form. “If he wishes to challenge outside the full moon, so be it.” Max gestured to the walking tree who now lead the pack. “It is your choice to recognize the challenge.”
The large man smiled through gapped front teeth. “I look forward to finally crushing your memory from the thoughts of the other pack members. I ACCEPT THE CHALLENGE!” he yelled.
*****
Foster leaned across the edge of the counter and heaved violently into the sink. The dark red blood that splattered into the deep sink splashed up the sides and onto his shirt, but he didn’t care. He cursed to himself that he had to taste this abomination again as it came back up, but the fact that it got into his sinuses sent him over the edge. He feared he’d never stop smelling the stench of lamb now.
He gagged on the taste and heaved again, throwing up a little more violently, but a lot less in volume. He gripped the edge of the stainless steel sink so hard that he crushed the sides of it in his hands. As he spit the remains of his ‘Beastia’ meal into the sink, he turned on the water and tried to rinse the taste away.
“Are you okay?” His guard handed him a towel.
Paul rinsed and spit into the sink then turned the water off. He wished he had a mirror, but knew it would do little good. If he looked as bad as he felt then he could be mistaken for a zombie. “I think my brother is purposely trying to poison us.”
The guard cracked a smile at him. “The secret is to not go too fast. Sip at it until your system gets used to it.”
“How the fuck would you know?” Paul spat.
The guard lowered his eyes and tried to avert the answer until he realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question. “A while back, I found myself in an area with few humans, but a lot of wild mountain goat,” he admitted. “It was eat from the animals or starve.”
“And?” Paul’s eyes pleaded.
“And…I learned the hard way.” The guard nodded. “I was starving when I finally caught the first goat. I was a glutton and filled myself. The results were similar to what you just went through.”
“How did you figure it out?” Paul asked quietly.
“I was so hungry, I had to try something. I thought maybe I was allergic.” He shook his head as he thought back to that terrible time. “I thought maybe if I took a little in small doses I could build up a resistance.”
“That’s stupid.” Paul waved him off dismissively.
“Maybe. But it worked.”
Paul sighed and pushed off from the counter. “Bring me more,” he ordered. “A LITTLE more.”
“Going to try again?”
“It’s either that or fucking starve.”
*****
Damien lay in the far corner of the darkened lower levels, his breath coming in pants. The woman he had just fought ceaselessly with and finally got the upper hand on lay next to him, her naked body draped over him. She was breathing hard as well. Both felt well and completely satiated.
“You surprised me flesh eater,” she purred.
“In a good way, I hope.” Damien fished for a compliment.
She chuckled as she pulled at the remains of her dress. “Oh, if it were bad, I would have ended you in the middle of it,” she laughed.
Damien nodded but something told him that was the best he could hope for in the way of compliments. “You have an amazing body.” He reached up and ran the back of his hand along the side of her breast and down her ribs.
“I know,” she said flatly. “I’m so glad I was created at my prime. I can’t imagine some of these others who were turned once their asses go flat or their boobs have gotten saggy.”
“Sucks to be them.” He smiled a shitty grin.
“Yes it does.” She drew circles across his bare chest with her sharpened nail.
“So where does this leave us?” he asked. “Still intend to make me a slave?”
She pondered his question a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Damien smiled inwardly. “It better be a sex slave, or I’ll just keep hammering you into the floor until I’ve convinced you.”
“Ooh, a little bit confident, aren’t we?”
“It’s either that or I eat you.”
“You already did that lover.” She giggled, rose up, and straddled him again in the darkness. He rose to the occasion and she quickly engulfed him with her silky wetness. “I may need more convincing before I make a final decision though…”
Damien reached up and cupped her face, “I don’t even know your name.”
She leaned back and fully impaled herself on him then released a moan. With a growl in the back of her throat she leaned down and pressed her breasts to his chest. She bit his lower lip and whispered, “Rachel.” She let her hair billow down to cover his face as she rode him again and his hands squeezed her breasts in rhythm to her rocking, “Bu
t you may call me Lilith.”
Damien pulled her neck to him and bit her, drinking wildly from her. Rachel allowed him to feed from her and it fed their lust. Just as he felt he could hold no more, they both climaxed and she collapsed upon him once more.
The two lay alone in the dark, spent for a long time before Rachel pushed away from him and whispered in his ear, “Go clean yourself up, my lover. You’re covered in blood and I have big plans for you.”
Damien smiled inwardly and nodded. He groped around for his clothes and quickly dressed. He pulled her to him once more and kissed her deeply, mixing both her blood and their sex in the kiss. “Until next time,” he whispered. He slipped up the stairs and into the artificial light of the facility above.
As he approached the showers, one of Foster’s guards noted him. “Where’ve you been?”
“Feeding and fucking obviously. I need a shower,” Damien said cockily.
“Yeah?” the guard replied. “Looks to me like you just had one.”
Damien looked down at himself and he was spotless. Other than a light crusting of blood around his mouth, he appeared fresh. He stood there a moment, confusion evident on his face. He thrust his hand into his pants and checked his junk. It was clean and dry. He pulled his hand out and smelled it…fresh. The guard gave him an odd look and Damien simply glared at him.
He darted into the showers and stripped down. He inspected himself and didn’t have so much as a crust of blood on his back, the scratches from his vampire lover had disappeared. “What the fuck is going on…” he muttered.
“You are mine now, Damien…” her voice echoed in his head.
17
CHAPTER TITLE
A large Peterbilt slowed to a stop and Barbara was thrilled to see the black Humvee waiting at the main gate for her and Bobby. The truck driver had pulled off of I-40 and let them out at the gate exit without pulling off the road. She jumped down from the truck and thanked him for the ride before solidly shutting the door.
She and Bobby walked to the parking area near the Pass & ID building and were greeted by one of the security team. “Mrs. Mueller?” he asked, looking again at an enlarged copy of her military ID card.
She set her go bag on the ground and with it, the weight of the world. “Most definitely.”
“I’m Staff Sergeant Miller and I’ll be your shadow, ma’am.” He opened the back door of the military transport so that Bobby could climb in. Barbara placed his backpack in the floor next to him as she climbed into the front. “Did you notice anybody following you?”
“Thankfully, no.” She looked over her shoulder again.
“It won’t matter in about forty-five seconds, ma’am,” he said as he wheeled the Humvee around and pulled up to the gate guard who saluted at him and gestured him through. “Unless your pursuers are military, we should be good now.”
Barbara sighed and felt the tension leave her body to the point she almost wanted to cry. The guard noticed her distress and reached across the oversized console between them and took her hand in his. “You’re safe now, ma’am. You’ve got a whole compliment of armed guards that will put their lives on the line to keep you and your son safe.”
She fought back tears as she nodded, her voice caught in her throat. After a third attempt she finally croaked out a “Thank you.”
Miller shook his head. “Not at all, ma’am.”
“Barbara, please. Just Barbara.”
Miller shook his head. “I don’t think so, ma’am.” He looked in the rear view mirror at Bobby staring out the window at the base. “Precious cargo onboard.” She glanced over her shoulder and nodded at him.
“His dad and I certainly think so.”
He smiled at her. “I meant the both of you, ma’am.” He gunned the engine once the last car had turned out of their way and made straight for the hangar. The guards outside the hangar were waiting for them and opened the doors as soon as they saw the Humvee approaching. Miller slowed the vehicle to make the curve approaching the hangar then pulled straight through to the rear of the almost empty building. Crates and boxes lined the outer walls waiting to be carted off to Nevada once the MS4 crew had finished this last major operation.
Miller shut off the engine and stepped out of the vehicle. He opened Bobby’s door and helped the child out, handing him his backpack before sealing the vehicle back up. He walked Bobby around to his mom and escorted the two of them to the elevators in the rear of the hangar. “I’m to show you to your rooms. Honestly, they aren’t much, but there’s a hot shower and private restrooms. The beds are pretty comfortable and we have cable television down there.”
“Down there?” Barbara asked.
“Below decks, ma’am. This facility goes about five floors below ground,” he informed her. “You can’t tell from outside, but it’s pretty state of the art. Unfortunately, you won’t have access to most of it, but you can access the second floor without a key card and that’s where your rooms are.”
She simply nodded as they stepped into the elevators.
“Can I push the button, Mom?” Bobby asked.
Miller smiled and pointed to the one with the big ‘2’ on it. Bobby mashed it hard and it lit up. When the doors shut, Barbara found herself holding on to the sides of the elevator, waiting for it to drop, but the transition was smooth and seamless. The doors opened to a long hallway of identical doors. “Any room you want past number 8. Those before 8 are already taken. They all have sheets, blankets, towels…you name it. About the only thing you won’t have will be clothes and from what the colonel tells me, your husband has made arrangements for an account to be set up?”
Barbara looked at him questioningly. “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “And technically, Bob and I are still divorced.”
Miller nodded knowingly. “Not my business, ma’am. I’m just told that you and your son are VIP guests until we’re told otherwise.” He held the elevator door with a smile.
“I can’t tell you how much we appreciate…everything, Sergeant Miller.”
He held his hand up to stop her. “It’s not necessary, ma’am. I have a family, too.”
She walked down the hall and Bobby ran ahead of her. “I want number 9. That was my number in little league, Mom. It’s a lucky number.”
She just nodded at him and waved him on. “That’s fine, sweetheart. Number nine sounds good to me.”
“When you get hungry, we have a small cafeteria here. It’s not much since the grand majority of the support staff relocated, but we tend to get together and whip up a small meal at supper time. Breakfast and lunch though…well, we just sort of wing it.”
Barbara turned and wrapped her arms around Miller’s neck. “Thank you.”
Miller was somewhat taken aback for a moment, but he hesitantly returned the hug and patted her back. “You’re welcome, ma’am,” he whispered. “I’ll send someone for you and your son when we have the food ready.”
She quickly turned away and slipped into the room.
*****
“We want it done now,” the raspy voice on the satellite phone demanded.
Major Sheridan sighed inwardly and pulled the phone away from his ear briefly, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache he was starting to get. “And I’m telling you, it can’t be done now,” he argued. “The target has too many guards about him. I can’t get close enough. Besides, if we’re lucky, once this battle begins, I may not have to risk exposing myself. Your damned vampire god may do the job for me.”
“He is not a god,” the voice responded. “He only thinks he is one.”
“Whatever,” Sheridan shot back. “The point is, if I try to act now, I’ll very well out myself to the whole bloody world and what will that get us? Nothing, that’s what. The target will still be alive and kicking and you’ll not get what you want. I’ll be dead, so I’ll definitely not get what I want. This vampire god wannabe will be alive and kicking and where will that leave you?”
“Do not presume to
know our politics, human,” the voice warned.
“No? Really? Well, tell me this then. How is it you were able to escape joining this almighty vampire Armageddon anyway, hmm? How is it, if this vampire is so bloody powerful, you and your group were able to ignore his call to arms?”
“Our ways are not for you to know.”
“If you want me to do your damned dirty work, you’ll answer the fucking question!” Sheridan all but yelled into the phone.
He listened intently and heard nothing. Not even breathing. He debated saying something just to see if the representative for the vampire council was still there, but he knew this was a waiting game. A verbal version of who blinks first. So he waited. Just as he was about to tell them to find someone else to do the damned job he heard the phone shift.
“We have our ways, hunter. That is all you need to know,” the raspy voice replied.
“Not good enough,” Sheridan responded. “I want a real answer.”
He waited again, but the wait was much shorter. “The Sicarii sent emissaries to each family of vampires. We made sure that we were not to be found. If we were not found, we could not be called to his service.”
“Right. The council isn’t just one family,” Sheridan stated. “I may not know all the ins and outs of vampire politics, but I do know that much.”
“We are considered a familia. The Council is its own entity. Like a family, when one member perishes for whatever reason, the eldest of the family steps up to take the members place,” the voice explained. “And like a family, we have a head that would be served. If that head, or any other member of the council is not served the conscript, then none of us is considered served.” After a brief pause the vampire asked, “Is your curiosity satisfied now, hunter?”
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