Dark Hunger (A Sable Hart Vampire Slayer Novel Book 2)

by Megan Hawke

  “I have permission to persuade you any way necessary,” he said.

  I kicked straight up, connecting with his jaw. A swift kick to the balls followed and doubled him up. The roundhouse that followed spun him around and left him sprawled on the floor.

  His bats went wild and attacked me.

  Without thought, I changed into a wolf and killed three of them in three bites. Bat Man gasped and cried out each time. Then I ducked and ran for the door. To hell with the swarm guarding the door, I ran full speed into them. I killed a couple more bats as I tore through that thick mass of bat. Again, you'd think I was biting Bat Man from the way he reacted.

  Even a wolf couldn't outrun bats, so I morphed into a bat the second I was clear of the door. Bat Man rushed out and pointed at me, screaming how he was going to kill me.

  Bat Man changed into a bat, and led this flock of crazed bats after me. I headed due south. No destination in mind, just a burning need to escape. The bats couldn't kill me, but I was pretty sure Bat Man could and would.

  Highland Park was a small city of established neighborhoods, with expensive homes and large shade trees. Looking out across it in the dim moonlight one could mistake it for a forest peppered with some tall homes. A little higher, and it was obviously within city limits.

  A question I've had was finally answered. Yes, vampires in our bat manifestation are faster than real bats. I flew as fast as I could over a few streets and dropped back down into the trees. Landing in a fork high in a tree, I watched as Bat Man and his cloud of bats flew past.

  Once they passed overhead, I flew the opposite way. Heading back to the house, I didn't morph back to human form until I was inside. I pulled on my clothes as fast as I could, collected my pack and pistol, and got on the Ninja. A second later I was ripping down the road. I was out of there and never going back. Desiree's house was no longer our home, thanks to the Giorgi sisters and Antoinette.

  Chapter 18

  I headed back to the Harvest Moon Beer Garden. Yeah, I'm a masochist. Whip me, beat me, bite me, and I love you long time. Uh huh. Okay, it was Fritz. He might still be there, laughing about how all of those big, bad werewolves chased little ole me away.

  Roger was in the parking lot across the street, sitting in his car and staring wide eyed at the Harvest Moon. I probably wouldn't have noticed him, except for my sick obsession with Ford Mustangs. I can't not look at them. I parked next to him.

  I smiled roguishly at him. The door locks clicked open. I climbed off the Ninja, took one step, and opened the front passenger door. The locks clicked as soon as I closed the door.

  "Shouldn't you be at work?" I said.

  "I called off sick," he said. Actually, he did look a little green around the gills. "Fritz called me. He called me!"

  "You're in the book?"

  "Yeah."

  "Not smart."

  "I know, but it is what normal people do."

  I understood the desire to be normal again. Longed for that myself.

  "What did he say?"

  Roger grimaced, looked on the verge of puking, then visibly pulled himself together. Not what I'd expect to see from a vampire. I found him dangerously fascinating. Or was it morbid curiosity?

  "He said he was going to kill me for helping you," Roger said. "Unless I helped him catch and kill you."

  I had a lot of questions, like how did Fritz know Roger was helping me? That wasn't the most important issue, though.

  "Are you going to?" I said. "You have power over me. You might be able to do it."

  Seduce me. Tie me up. Shove a piece of sanctified silver into my body so I couldn't morph and he could do anything he wanted with or to me. Including kill me or turn me over to my enemies.

  "I can't. I like you too much," he said.

  "Despite the fact I am a vampire."

  "Yes. Despite that," he said, and grinned. "I'm glad you understand that. We're a lot alike, Sable. We both hate being vampires, but are dealing with it in our own ways." He went all sexy shy on me again, and shrugged sheepishly. "Besides, anyone who kills vampires can't be all bad."

  "Thanks, it's a relief to hear you say that," I said. "Vampire girls need love too, you know. And all the friends she can get, alive and undead."

  He just nodded, and turned back to the Harvest Moon.

  "You know, I never wanted to be a vampire, but I always thought it would be cool to be a werewolf," Roger said. He sighed. "At least I can turn into a wolf as a vampire. Small consolation."

  "Me, I always thought it would be great to be able to fly like a bird. I can now, as a bat," I said. "Like you, I like it, but feel it is small consolation for what I've lost." I slanted a look at him. "Why are you here?"

  "Fritz is inside the Harvest Moon," he said. "That is his pack's hangout. A lot of wolves from other packs hang there too, but most of the people inside are members of Fritz's pack, or have ties with it. Before I was Changed, I hung out there, too."

  "Mortals hang out there?" I said. "They are allowed inside?"

  "Oh yeah. Werewolf groupies, mostly."

  "The werewolf version of the vampires' minions?"

  "Yeah. Though, vampires get more and better girls," he said. "More feminine, anyway. Some of the werewolf girls can be kinda rough and tough, like biker chicks."

  "So I've noticed," I said. I glanced at the Harvest Moon, then back at Roger. "What were you planning? Were you going to ambush him as he came out?"

  "No, I was going to change into a bat and follow him. Once I figured out where he was staying I was going to tell you, and let you kill him." He shrugged. "I'm not much of a fighter."

  "Fair enough," I said. "Better plan than I have, anyway."

  "What was your plan?"

  "Well, I don't actually have one," I said, and laughed. "Until I asked you what you planned, it hadn't occurred to me I needed a plan, too. I have a tendency to wing it most of the time."

  He looked at me a moment. "Yeah. I've noticed."

  Disapproval? Talk about being taken aback.

  "I've planned things out in meticulous detail before," I said. Why was I feeling defensive? Heck, I was Black Heart for Christ's sake. I was so big and bad I scared myself sometimes. "I'm the local bogie man of the coffin set, you know."

  "I know," he said. He looked me over head to toe, lingering on my cleavage and legs. Roger was a man, after all. "But you look more like a stripper than a blood-thirsty killer."

  I shrugged. "You're the first man to complain."

  He smiled, "Who's complaining?"

  "Better," I said. Movement at the Harvest Moon's front door caught my attention, and I spotted Fritz leaving. He had two other werewolves with him. Both looked like big outlaw bikers. Huge auras. "Shh. There's our boy. Keep your eyes closed no matter what. Only use your vampiric senses, not your eyes. The talisman can only capture you if you see it."

  I closed my eyes as my senses picked Fritz up. He wasn't the least bit anxious. In fact, if anything, I'd say he had a nice beer buzz going. The three werewolves were laughing and arguing over professional football teams and players. Apparently one of them wasn't a Cowboy fan.

  "An Eagles fan?" Roger whispered. We had to be careful, since werewolves could hear almost as well as vampires. "Can I shoot him?"

  Smiling, I just nodded. The backpack was on the floor between my feet. I reached down slowly and pulled it into my lap.

  "Do you have a gun?" I whispered so low only someone with supernatural hearing could've heard it, and only if they were within a couple of feet of me.

  "No."

  "I have a spare I can give you."

  "No. If I shot someone, they would bleed," he said. "That would end it for me."

  I glanced at the three men, standing at the tailgate of a big red pickup, out the corner of my eye. I wasn't sure if the talisman required a direct glaze or not for the magic to work, so closed my eyes.

  "I've been captured by the talisman twice," I said. "During my encounter with Fritz earlier tonight I kept my
eyes closed the whole time. I could tell by his actions he wanted to capture me with the Coeur de Sade, but the talisman didn't capture me."

  "Well I've only encountered the talisman once and it captured me," he said. "I don't want a repeat here tonight, so I'll respectfully bow out and let you handle it."

  "You're not going to help me?"

  "No," Roger said. "He'll kill me."

  "He fully intends to do that anyway," I said, my voice rising up above a breathy whisper, but just barely.

  "I can defend myself."

  "The best defense is an attack," I said.

  "That's the Black Heart speaking."

  "That's reality speaking, boy," I said, opening my eyes to give him a disapproving gaze. He couldn't be that big of a coward. "This may be your one shot to save yourself."

  He was silent a long moment. I watched him intently as I monitored Fritz across the street with my senses. Roger was struggling with something, probably a personal demon or three. The expressions on his face went from sadness, to shame, to anger, and finally to resolution.

  "What's the matter? Did Fritz save your life once or something?"

  "No." He sighed gustily. "It's just...it's just I don't know if I want to live," he said. Tears rolled out of his eyes and I gawked. A vampire crying? "I've done such bad things. I don't deserve to live." Abject shame claimed his face. He started wiping away the tears. "I'm a monster. All vampires are, but me especially. I'm not even a very good vampire."

  "I don't know what bad things you did, but I can't image you being evil," I said. "Besides, if you die you go to Hell. That's got to be a million times worse than this Hell on Earth we live."

  "It's hell for you, too?" he said.

  "Yes," I said automatically, then realized it wasn't as bad as I would like to believe. Could be worse. Since Yuri's death, my life had been more on the better than the worse side. But that wasn't what Roger needed to hear. "The only thing that kept me from walking into the sunrise was the Compulsion Yuri placed upon me against suicide."

  "Oh a Compulsion," he said, and shivered. "Nasty things, those."

  "Yes," I said, and realized we were speaking in normal voices. I glanced at Fritz, and all three of them were staring at us from across the street. "Oh shit. They know we're here!"

  All three of them took off running straight at us. Roger and I froze for half a dozen heartbeats, then I threw the door open and slipped out. Fritz reached to his throat, seized the bouncing chain that held the Coeur de Sade, and started to pull it up.

  "Close your eyes, Roger. Fight with senses only!" I cried, slipping on my wrap around glasses and shouldering the small pack. "Let's go!"

  I heard Roger get out of his car, and then the flapping of very large wings. Fear consumed two of the werewolves. Not Fritz. He must've forgotten about my earlier success against him at his house.

  "The Coeur de Sade isn't going to help you tonight, Fritz," I said, rushing up on their left side. I could hear Roger's massive wings flapping, making a wide loop to come back upon them from the other side. "I've figured out how to defeat it. Give it to me, and I'll let you live."

  "Kill her," Fritz commanded and turned to face Roger.

  Two wolfmen charged me. With Fritz facing away from me, I felt it safe for a brief moment to open my eyes to fight my assailants. They both looked like unwashed outlaw bikers. Tall and muscular, they had shaggy heads of shoulder length hair and rather unkempt beards. One was a dark blonde, the other a brunette. While both wore jeans, one had a white Cowboys t-shirt and the other wore a red and black flannel shirt. Flannel boy was the Eagles fan.

  I ran straight at them. They were confident. I felt no concern within them, no self-doubt. That caused all kind of self-doubt to erupt within me. Why weren't they afraid of a vampire? They should be, or was that just my lack of knowledge about werewolves speaking? Maybe they didn't have anything to fear.

  As we closed, I dropped low and tried to sweep their feet away. They easily sidestepped my attempt, and went to either side of me. Then they reversed direction and came at me side-by-side. I could be wrong, but I think they'd practiced that move before.

  I let my powerful kick spin me completely around, so that they were behind me as they charged. A second before they reached me I leapt up and back, doing a back flip over them.

  I hit the concrete street with a clatter of heels, reached to the hidden holster in the pack and pulled the Glock 31. I shot Flannel boy in the left kidney. Silver bullet, so that might kill him. The faintest pang of guilt twitched within me, but went away quickly.

  "Son of a bitch, she's got silver bullets!" the other wolfman cried.

  "Aaagghh!" Fritz cried.

  I looked over, seeing Roger's wings piercing Fritz's chest. Well, not so much the wings themselves, as the foot long "spikes" or talons that grew out at the joint halfway down his wings. They were wicked looking things, and I knew from recent experience that it hurt. A lot.

  I immediately shoved the pistol back into its holster and ran towards Roger and Fritz. I had to get that talisman off of him fast. Once I had the talisman in hand, my job was over. I was taking Roger and getting out of there.

  "Gotcha!" Roger cried in triumph, and made a big mistake.

  My heart sank as I saw Roger's eyes open to look upon his vanquished foe. Fritz was hardly vanquished. Did Roger forget werewolves were almost as hard to kill as vampires? The third wolfman grabbed his wounded friend and dragged him away. I let them go, not interested in anyone but Fritz and the Coeur de Sade.

  "Don't!" I cried, too late.

  Roger was caught instantly. I closed my eyes and charged. Seconds would decide the night.

  "Kill Black Heart!" Fritz rasped out. "Now. Then go to Victory Square and wait for the sun to rise."

  Okay, I wasn't expecting that. I couldn't fight Roger with my eyes closed, and if I even caught a glimpse of the Coeur de Sade while fighting him I was a goner. So I turned and ran.

  Since becoming a vampire I've rarely regretting wearing high heels. I kinda liked wearing them all the time now. My ankles were incredible strong, so I could almost walk as well in sky high stilettos as in sneakers. Not quite, but almost. But, running still presented a problem. I could run pretty fast in heels, but nowhere near as fast as in proper running shoes.

  I needed to run a whole lot faster than I could at that moment. Fritz may or may not have understood my predicament, but he was laughing uproariously as I turned and ran. Roger's wings flapped and I heard him coming.

  Roger flew up, over, and came in to my front. He wasn't the least bit sneaky about it. Swooping down, he grabbed for me. I'm not sure what he planned, but I had other plans. So I leapt up and wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

  "No!" Roger cried, too late.

  I sank my fangs into his throat. Not a clean bite, either. I ripped his throat open. Blood spewed everywhere. All over me. All over Roger. Five seconds later Roger curled up and puked.

  We fell out of the sky and landed in the back of a Chevy pickup, three parking places from our vehicles. I heard Fritz running over, and closed my eyes.

  "Dammit, why'd you bite me?" Roger cried.

  "You're back!"

  "Freeze!" Fritz said, catching Roger with the talisman but not me. Have I ever mentioned that Momma didn't raise no fool? I pulled my knees to my chest, and snapped my legs straight, sending Roger flying backwards a good thirty feet to crash through another car's windshield. "Bitch!"

  Fritz grabbed my throat with both hands, shoving his thumbs fiercely into my windpipe. He crushed my windpipe easily, then shook me violently. Did he think he could strangle me to death? Not going to happen.

  I brought my arms down atop his wrists, smashing them off my throat. I rolled away. Or tried to roll away. It was a pickup bed and I was stopped mid-roll. Fritz was up into the bed in a heartbeat, seized me, and threw me a good twenty feet to smash through the windshield of another car. I went through head first, and that left me dazed long enough
for Fritz to reach me, and grab my right ankle.

  My least favorite wolfman held onto my ankle, spun me round and round, and then let go. I flew another twenty feet to smash into the right rear bumper of Roger's Mustang. Left a big dent. I bet he'll be pissed if he lived to see another night.

  "Roger!" Fritz shouted. "You worthless piece of shit, I told you to kill her!"

  More werewolves were running out of the front door of Harvest Moon. I paused to gawk at them. Not good. Why did I have such rotten luck with werewolves?

  I'm not ashamed to admit it. I was scared witless. That damned werewolf was tossing me around like a rag doll, and then I saw the rest of his pack descending upon me. I jumped on my Ninja and took off. Went right over the curb, through the little grassy strip and onto the road. Then I turned right and away from them and gave it the gas.

  I thought that would be the end of the werewolves. Roger had orders to go to Victory Square and suicide in the sunlight. So I knew where I was going. It wasn't that hard to get a vampire out of the talisman's trance. My concern was that a local TV station broadcasted from Victory Square, and Roger would be positively identified as a vampire. It would destroy his little "normal" life.

  My life was lit up with bright headlights from behind.

  "Well fuck me to tears," I muttered. "These people are crazier than vampires."

  Fritz's pack was after me. A werewolf pack hunting in pickups, jeeps, and SUVs. Something for the history book, no doubt. I didn't like being prey, but I felt like the little bunny chased by a savage wolf pack. Okay, a bunny with long, vicious fangs.

  Strangely enough, my primary concern wasn't my welfare. I could always turn into a bat and fly away. Werewolves couldn't chase bats. No can do. But I was very worried about my motorcycle. It was the only transportation I had left.

  I reached for my pistol, and that meant my hand came off the gas. The Ninja started slowing down fast. That didn't work, because I had to grab the handle and gas it again. Driving a motorcycle and shooting a pistol didn't seem to work well. I could shoot pretty well left-handed, but I couldn't get to the pistol with my left hand.