“What do you know?” I gripped the phone tighter.
Gabe shrugged. “I know he fed you somehow. You’re brimming with energy.” He sighed and scrubbed his face. “I also know that I’ve lost my chance with you.”
I remained silent as weird emotions roiled around my cerebral juices. On one hand, I was glad he was finally getting that I was off the market. But on the other, I felt sort of sorry for him. He’d sounded forlorn, like I had deprived him of something he’d wanted all his life. I knew this wasn’t about me personally, it was more about losing his shot at companionship with one of his kind.
It bothered me to see him hurting. Even though he could be pushy and full of shit, he was the closest thing I had to a friend out here.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine.” Gabe tightened the robe to cover his torso. “Believe it or not, Claire Sommers, I can survive a little rejection from time to time.”
I nodded and opened my mouth before snapping it shut. Maybe if the circumstances weren’t so dire I would have made sure we were on good terms, but right now I couldn’t take the time to worry about his feelings. Not with Camilla in danger.
So I walked away and didn’t look back. As soon as I made it to my room, I looked down at the phone.
I wrote and sent, Where are you???
Thirty seconds later I received a response. Hello Claire. You know exactly where she is.
Cold confirmation and fear flooded my stomach. I had hoped Lucas was bluffing, that he wouldn’t actually do something like this. Even with the proof in my hands I couldn’t wrap my head around it. My mate was supposed to be one of the good guys.
Clearly, I had been wrong.
Lucas Masters was a monster. The kind of wolf who fooled you by wearing sheep’s clothing. I honestly hadn’t thought him capable of something like this. It just proved how little I knew him.
I was in the midst typing out, Let me talk to her, when an image popped on the screen.
I stared at it for a few uncomprehending seconds.
Some things were so fucked up that you couldn’t make sense of them right away. The most prominent moment I could recall of that sensation was when I saw the mangled pieces of people in the crime scene photos or the way the hyena feral’s femur had jutted out of his compound break. Those were the most visceral and horrifying images in my head
Until today. The phone slipped out of my fingers.
“Fuck!” I screamed and punched the wall. I didn’t feel anything past the overwhelming guilt and horror. I collapsed into a crouch, arms sandwiching my head like a crazy person as I rocked back and forth. No, no, no…
I reached for the phone and almost burst into tears when I saw the picture of Camilla, abused and broken to hell and back. I could barely recognize her past the breathing apparatus, and the discolored swelling. Nasty gashes ruined the side of her face. What the fuck happened? Were they torturing her?
Why the fuck would he do this?
I wanted to scream. To rage. This is my best fucking friend in the whole world. The sister I’d always wanted, and Lucas took her and nearly killed her. That bastard!
I didn’t even know if she was alive. And even if she managed to pull through, her face would never be the same. Camilla, the girl who’s obsessed with beauty and make-up, disfigured for life? I couldn’t reconcile it. Couldn’t even picture what she must be going through. If she was even conscious.
I burst into tears. “I’m so sorry, Camilla. Look what they fucking did to you?!” I sobbed, tears dripping onto the phone’s screen. I roughly rubbed them away as the phone vibrated with the next text.
You have one week. Don’t keep my Alpha waiting.
I roughly wiped the moisture away from my clotted eyelashes and glared at the screen.
I didn’t care if it ripped my heart out in the process. Lucas Masters would pay for this.
I didn’t sleep. Not with the guilt and half-formulated plans bouncing around inside my skull.
I doubted anyone would sign off on a return trip to the States so I had to get creative. For the majority of the night I’d been too caught up thinking like Claire the human, instead of Claire the succubus with questionable scruples. Now that Claire could get back to America. I just had to leverage her.
It still boggled my mind that they shipped me off to Australia. When I think of high-end government training grounds for what amounts to be the Supe version of Special Ops, the Outback did not make the list.
Turns out, Gabriel had purchased the mansion in preparation for an Australian magnate role for the big screen. Accent and everything.
I thought he was joking when I’d asked him about it, but it would seem he had to start promoting soon — meaning I’d have the house to myself with Vaughn, Vicks, and Gabe’s leftover entourage this week. Escape could be possible, especially considering Vaughn left frequently — seeing as she was the only Supe not behind bars. And, she was also the only one who could detain me without a bullet. I just needed to get my ducks in a row and time it perfectly.
I exhaled and took in a deep breath. I was going to have to violate the contract and possibly endanger Lucas in the process.
Before, I wouldn’t have entertained the idea.
But now?
To hell with it.
They could burn him alive. And if he had the balls to visit me in my dream again, I might just do it myself.
I mentally clawed at the bond for the umpteenth time. I’d tried ramming, bashing, and torching it to hell, but it was all futile. It pissed me off to know he was shutting me out. I suspected it was his way of giving me a taste of my own medicine. And I could have accepted that, if he hadn’t dragged Camilla into our mess. He’d crossed the line.
Even when the mate bond tried to force me to feel the warm fuzzies, I locked that shit down. I’d rather stick a red-hot poker in my eye than be attracted to that monster.
I glared at the ceiling until dawn filtered into the room. I was fairly confident I had a plan by the time breakfast rolled around.
Normally, I chose to raid the kitchen rather than being served in the dining hall, but I had a certain manservant I needed to talk to. From what I could tell, the Judas ran the house and other staff members reported to him.
Clyde froze when he spotted me at the head of the table. He nervously glanced around to see if there were any other guests.
Nope, just you and me, buddy.
He’d started avoiding me shortly after the Vicks betrayal. I suspected he was worried about payback, but I honestly hadn’t thought about him in ages.
I straightened in my seat when Clyde nervously unloaded a veritable feast from his cart. By the time he finished the table was laden with American breakfast foods: pancakes, omelets, sausages, bacon, and then a bunch of fancy stuff I didn’t recognize other than the eggs benedict slathered in hollandaise sauce. All the food had to be well over twenty thousand calories.
I lifted my eyebrows. Had I really been eating this much? No wonder Gabe had to hire a new chef just to sustain me. Clearly Staci never got the memo that I was no longer starving to death. Not that I could blame the chef. I looked the same since I’d been glamouring my appearance to hide my skeletal condition.
“Thank you,” I said then patted the chair next to me. “Join me. There’s plenty of food.”
Clyde’s eyes widened. I kept my face innocent and patted the seat again. “I won’t bite.”
A sudden flash of Lucas’ teeth piercing my flesh played in the back of my head. My smile grew strained, but I remained pleasant.
“As my Mistress desires.” He slowly sat down and stared at the food. I’d never seen someone look so uncomfortable. I literally saw the sweat drop from his brow.
Odd.
“You can eat it, too,” I told him.
He immediately stood. “I must get back to work.”
“Sit,” I snapped. What the hell was this guy’s problem? He was acting half scared to death. “Why are you scared of me?”
Cl
yde plopped back into his seat and straightened his bow tie as if it were strangling him. I pushed my plate in front of him since he didn’t have his own place setting.
“Well?” I demanded.
Clyde looked down at his lap and covered it with his hands. I’m pretty sure he was sporting a fear boner, but I ignored it.
“I—” Clyde looked up at me, panic dancing in his eyes. “I apologize.”
“For giving Vicks the room next to mine?” I shrugged. “That’s old news. Now what’s really bothering you?”
He couldn’t even maintain eye contact.
I froze. It wasn’t long ago that I, too, had felt weak and been similarly intimidated. But in this scenario, I was the big, bad Supernatural. I was the scary one? My God, that was weird to wrap my head around.
“I saw Mister Vicks’ files.” Clyde gulped. “I saw what you did to those people.”
I stared blankly at him. To do anything else would expose how much those words broke me. I didn’t need a reminder of that night. Of the guilt that still haunted me like a shadow.
Clyde suddenly looked more frightened by my silence. “I wasn’t snooping! I swear! One of the maids found them on Master Vicks’ bed and I—”
“What is your name?” I cut him off.
“W-whatever you’d like it to be, Mistress.” He nervously clenched his hands in his lap.
“Stop it. What’s your name?” I repeated.
He still seemed reluctant. Guilt pitted in my stomach, but I didn’t have time for this. I sighed and behaved like the monster he knew me to be. I traced my fingers down his arm. Blue sparks sizzled and burrowed into his skin.
He gasped and dragged his heated neon blue eyes to mine. “Andrew.”
It shocked me how easy it was to bend him to my will. Maybe I hadn’t been able to control people because they’d been overdosed? Perhaps a light touch brought heavy reward.
I leaned toward him and lowered my voice into a seductive whisper, “Can you keep a secret, Andrew?”
He nodded with an earnest, slightly glazed expression.
“Good.” I sat up straight. “Find me a pilot.”
***
Four days had gone by and everything was good to go. Gabe had left town to promote his latest movie, Vaughn was out doing whatever the hell kid-sized vampires do, and I’d secretly enthralled each and every member of the household. Even the security guards at the gate were under my spell. I’d even managed to score a private jet on standby. There was just one thing left to do: incapacitate Vicks.
Considering what happened the last time I’d tried to control him, I didn’t expect it to be pretty, and this time Gabe wasn’t here to save my ass if things went tits up.
Then again, now that I had some fuel in the tank and knew how to use it, I could easily overpower a human — even giant ones. But knowing Vicks, he’d probably just shoot me in the head. I was ninety percent sure the guy showered with a gun.
If I was going to pull this off without injuries or, you know, death, I’d have to use a Trojan horse. Except I didn’t have any giant wooden horses hiding warriors at my disposal.
But I did have skin with chameleon qualities.
I stared in the mirror and watched as my featured morphed and reshaped. My wild dark hair smoothed out into straight blonde locks. My nose and lips thinned as my jawline sharpened. Within thirty seconds I became the replica of the woman Vicks had thrown over his shoulder and had wall sex with — the beauty mark above her lip included.
“Oh, hello Vicks,” I practiced her sugary voice.
No, that wasn’t it.
Hers was more chirpy. I’d mastered it a couple days ago, but it took some initial fine tuning. Odds are he hadn’t even heard her voice beyond lusty moans so I doubted this was necessary, but I couldn’t go up to him and speak in my own voice. That would be a dead giveaway, and the last thing I wanted was to resort to the blue sauce.
I cleared my throat and visualized my vocal cords tightening.
“Yippee ki-yay, Motherfucker.” I smiled at the mirror. Nailed it! But my excitement soon vanished when I realized what I’d have to do next. I hadn’t once seen the girl walk around with clothes on — which meant I’d have to do the same.
I stripped.
As I stood bare, I pursed my lips and fidgeted at all the awkward, vulnerable feelings. I’d never been one for public nudity. Hell, I’d never even gone skinny dipping, so this felt beyond foreign and uncomfortable.
After a few minutes of mentally pumping myself up, I exited my room and knocked on his door. No answer. I pushed it open to find Vicks’ room empty. There were only three other places he frequented: the indoor firing range, the kitchen, or the gym. Seeing as I didn’t hear any muted gunshots, and the man ate his healthy meals on a schedule, (ironic behavior from a smoker if you asked me,) I suspected he was in the latter location.
I awkwardly marched toward the gym. I really, really wasn’t used to having my tits flop around. No wonder these people tended to glide rather than stomp — less jiggling. I caught myself subconsciously angling and covering up four or five times as I traversed the mansion. Luckily everyone was under orders to make themselves scarce and that’s the main reason I actually made it to the gym instead of ducking in a spare room to hide.
I paused at the door and fought off a panic attack. I’d become desensitized to the whole ‘other people being naked’ thing, but once the shoe was on the other foot, well I was nervous as fuck.
I quickly reviewed everything I’d enthralled the blonde to tell me. Apparently, she’d been moved to kitchen duty shortly after the demo incident and hadn’t come across Vicks’ path since they banged. And then she gave me way too many details about his prowess, but you never knew what might come up in conversation. I’d even spritzed on some of her peach perfume just to be safe. I was just glad I remembered to give her the day off. It wouldn’t do to run into the same woman with Vicks in the vicinity.
“You got this…” I muttered to myself.
Then I pushed the gym doors open, like a badass. Unfortunately, my over confidence was washed away when I saw the shirtless Hunter defy gravity. I wasn’t big on crossfit, but I knew that those weren’t normal pull-ups. I think they were actually called muscle-ups. Whatever they were, he pulled his upper body over the bar in a continuous, smooth motion before dropping down to hang from it. He made it look so easy. I knew for a fact, that if I wanted to accomplish the same move without cheating — well I flat out wouldn’t be able to, but there would also be a lot more flailing on my part.
He didn’t even swing his legs for momentum.
For someone who spent a solid portion of her life getting winded from stairs, this all seemed very impressive. As well as frightening since his muscular back glistened with sweat, scars, and a massive grim reaper tattoo. Not to mention the psycho worked out wearing a gun holster.
I cleared my throat and adopted the higher pitched voice. “I’ve been looking for you.”
He dropped to the ground and grabbed a towel to scrub off the sweat. After a few moments of ignoring me, he turned around with the damp cloth slung across his neck. Vicks eyed my naked body with a raised brow. “Have ya now?”
I nodded and resisted the urge to hide my body. Even though I now hated Lucas, it still felt wrong to have another man look at me. Or to be naked in public, period.
It’s not my body, it’s hers. It’s just a mask.
I smiled and flirtatiously bit my lip. “That’s right, cowboy. I thought we could pick up where we left off.”
Vicks cocked a slanted grin. “You sure yer ready for round two, girl? Last time I damn near rode ya so hard, I thought I’d have to take you out back an’ shoot ya.”
I laughed in a shrill, ditzy fashion. That pickup line was ominous, but somehow his southern charm smoothed over the rough edges — if you didn’t already know he slept with crime scene photos, that is. This guy seriously gave me the creeps.
I stepped forward and dragged my finger down his
rigid torso until it hooked in his waistband. I pulled it toward me. “You coming?”
Vicks grabbed his Stetson off a weight rack and plopped it on his head. “Lead the way, woman.”
“You wanna leave the gun here?” I reached around and squeezed his firm buttock. “I only have plans for one pistol, and it’s in your pants.”
It took all my willpower not to roll my eyes at the line that just came out of my mouth.
Vicks laughed. An amused sparkle in his eye. He grabbed his gun, but instead of setting it down, he aimed it between my eyes.
U.S. Hunter Carson Vicks’ face became a cold, hard mask. “What’re ya up to, Claire-Bear?”
I lifted my hands in surrender, “What gave me away?”
“You got that speck on the wrong side.” He nodded toward my lip with the beauty mark. “Let me guess, you were looking in a mirror?”
The fucker was right, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.
“Boys!” I called out. “Time for Plan B.”
The door opened and a flood of enthralled staff members entered the gym. The moment Vicks glanced at the newcomers, I slapped his wrist outward and tore the barrel of the gun in the opposite direction — the same way he’d disarmed me.
I smirked at his surprised expression, “What can I say? I’ve always been a quick study.”
“Yer really going to make me kill all these people with my bare hands?” Strangely, Vicks didn’t sound upset, in fact, he actually looked excited at the prospect.
What a nutjob.
I siphoned a portion of glowing energy from my reserves and sent it straight to my hand. I clenched it into a fist and Vicks’ gun crumpled like paper. I fake pouted. “Aw, poor Cherry.”
Vicks shook his head. “That there’s my favorite gun.”
“Was your favorite gun.” I dropped the ruined chunk of metal and held up my hand like it was armed and loaded. “Now are we going to do this the easy way?” A few blue strands of lightning sparked off my fingertips. “Or are you another asshole I get to put down?”
It felt damn good to throw these words back at him.
Vicks looked at my hands then back to the thirty or so people who surrounded him. He sighed and placed his arms behind his head. I narrowed my eyes, knowing him, he probably had a weapon hidden in that cowboy hat.
The Hunter: A Sinful Supes Novel (Red Crescent Book 3) Page 8