Doing It To Death: Shivers and Sins Volume 2

by Kaia Bennett

  Masilda nodded, a piece of paper at the ready. I grabbed the name and address between fore and middle finger, glancing at the info. No phone number. I guess there’s no cell reception ever in a warded witch coven. They wouldn’t know we were coming unless Masilda sent them some sort of magickal smoke signal.

  Before I strode out of the barn, Masilda called my name. I stopped and waited for her to come to my side. The air held a cooler kick today, the real world elements breaching the gates to blow hair in my face.

  “What will you do with her once you break the bond?”

  I stilled mid-breath. “I was thinking we’d go for ice cream. Why?”

  Vaughn, who’d waited by the side of the house, chuckled and tilted his head up to blow a smoke ring into the sky.

  “I don’t ask for me. I ask for you. You should know the answer before the last rite.”

  While I pondered the answer and the tightness in my chest, Masilda patted my arm.

  “Goddess protect and keep you, Jesse Oldman. I suspect you’ll need Her to watch over you.”

  The elders and head wolves walked out of the barn, with Stark trailing behind. His father didn’t look in his son’s direction, even though the detective stared a hole into the alpha’s profile.

  Daddy issues. Welcome to the club, Fido.

  I met Vaughn’s questioning gaze. He had blood on his shirt, a spot or two on his chin. I tapped the side of my face, indicating the stains. He wet a thumb, swiped at the red streak and sucked the remainder. Somewhere in those woods, Hannah must’ve gotten her final exam in pain. Lucky her, she’d live to tell the tale.

  Vaughn ran his tongue over his teeth and said, “Where to now?” He watched Stark stride past, headed toward the farmhouse without a word.

  I held up the paper between two fingers. “Alberta. Smack dab in the middle of Willmore National Park, aka nowhere. I take it you said bye-bye to Blondie. I’m sure you’re heartbroken.”

  “Yeah, we promised to write.” Vaughn snorted. “We just left Canada a few months ago. Why couldn’t we hit Cali or something? Vampire bride got us hittin’ every spot on the map I don’t care about.”

  I snickered and tucked the paper into my jeans pocket next to my phone.

  A few hours later we were packed and marching through the inner sanctum, out the way we came. Stark led us out of the woods in his wolf form. The pack howled a mournful song the entire way, and somehow a giant, furry predator managed to look haunted and heartbroken. Not until we crossed over, in far less time than we took to get inside, did Stark turn to the thin barrier, raise his muzzle, and howl the saddest, final note in the wolf chorus.

  The second the mists fully closed behind us, my phone began to buzz with messages.

  I licked my lips, tasting the full bite of winter beyond the coven walls. While Evie and Vaughn tossed their bags in the trunk of Stark’s sedan, Stark began the smooth inversion from wolf to human, spitting blood, shaking off his fur and the pulpy goo covering his body in a bloody sheen. He let out a harsh exclamation as he stood to his full height, caught somewhere between a bark and a human roar.

  His body vibrated with aggression, muscles strained, and chest puffed out to maximum capacity. Evie cautiously tiptoed up to him and held out his pack. With a trembling hand, he took the handle, setting his provisions in the grass to retrieve a water jug. He uncapped and bathed himself from head to toe, washing away the leavings of his transformation, while I checked my messages.

  The first one, from two days ago, came from Cai.

  “You’re not answering my texts, so I figured I’d try this one of the old-fashioned ways. Your father will be in New York next week. He’s planning a get together with some special guests and he wants to discuss your new position in detail. Leave Sunday wide open.”

  I hadn’t answered, so the next day, my father decided to chime in. His gruff voice, ancient and smooth as silk abandoned in a dusty attic, made me shiver.

  “Next week, son. Don’t keep me waiting.”

  “What is it?” Vaughn had overheard the messages but didn’t get their meaning.

  “Some bullshit my dad has planned after my free run is over. I’ve still got a month, but I can’t blow off this meeting.”

  Stark had dried off some and dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, slipping sneakers onto his feet easily. He looked miserable and smelled like bloody meat.

  “We can’t go to Alberta just yet.” Stark and Evie met my announcement with matching inquisitive stares. “First we have to head to Manhattan. I have to be there for a meeting Sunday.”

  “True born business?”

  I nodded at Stark’s question and looked at Evie.

  Fuck. I’ll have to keep you hidden.

  “Where?” Evie frowned at Stark and Vaughn’s glance in her direction. Her eyes widened when she realized she spoke her question aloud. “He was thinking he’d have to find a place to hide me. I asked him where.”

  “Creepy witch shit.” Vaughn shook his head and made himself comfortable in the passenger seat.

  I thought through my options, considering the real estate properties I had in and out of the city. I couldn’t take a chance that Cai would help himself to my various hideouts, while waiting for me to come to my father. He’d already invaded my space in Austin. That left only one option.

  “I know who we can see about finding a place to hide you. We just gotta get through a couple of days.”

  Then, no more detours. I would sever this most inconvenient bond from the witch and be done once and for all.

  Then what?

  Masilda’s unanswered question echoed in my mind like a bad omen.

  Then what will I do with her?

  14

  Down into the bowels of the city we walked, the dim lights of an abandoned railway illuminating the old and familiar route to Asylum. The networks that concealed and indulged my kind hadn’t changed much. Every vampire loves a discreet place to kill, and in my case, a discreet place to hide things from meddling elders like Cai and my father.

  Following the labyrinthine tunnels took us to a door made of steel so heavy and thick, only a powerful vampire or werewolf could move the thing without machinery. I tapped hard and fast with my right fist, revealing how many guests I had in the secret code, the pattern lighting up my mind with memories.

  I’d first seen this place over my father’s shoulder, sweaty hands smoothing down the double-breasted vest of my three-piece suit as he led me through the door. During the Eighteen-forties, we vampires were as debauched as Victorian humans were repressed. I flexed and clenched my fingers, stale air and memories passing between them.

  Torn corsets, torn flesh, the long fall of coiled hair unraveled from a braided and curled up-do. Prey, choking on the ascots I wrapped around their throats as I used them. Orgies that made ancient Rome look like a merry-go-round.

  Blood had flowed like rivers then, when we were still mostly hidden from humans and lost sheep were falling into our arms to escape years of chaste courtship, years of poverty, years of being told their place because of their sex or their skin tone. We welcomed them all. All were delicious prey here.

  “Welcome to Asylum,” said the subterranean voice of a werewolf through the view slot before he admitted us. He looked like several ivory tree trunks had been carved in the shape of a man and fixed together to create his body. There were several other guardians of Asylum like him. My wary guests followed, the neon red signs on the walls glowing with accusations, reprieves. Invitations.

  Sinners.

  Temptation.

  Tears and Fears Are Delicacies Here.

  Come Closer.

  The red lights shifted to show each position of a hand crooking a finger, beckoning us, daring the prey that stumbled upon this place to meet death.

  The walls, ceiling, and floors were painted a hellish black, so dark and impenetrable we could’ve been walking through an oil slick. The first time I’d traveled these halls, I’d glimpsed erotic tapestries from under t
he brim of a bowler hat, beasts devouring maidens and angels fleeing the bared teeth and temptations of demons. I’d smiled then, and I smiled now. We could have some discreet fun here before we took off for Canada. Me and the turned witch who’d finally given in to her hunger.

  “Why are we here?” Evie’s voice quavered.

  I trailed a wall with my fingertips as we turned left and dove deeper into the entrance. Now we approached double doors leaking a faded song.

  “We’re here to visit an old friend, someone who can set us up in a hideout.”

  The first level of hell roared with club music, the beat thumping through the floor, when seconds ago, I could barely hear a sound. Asylum’s doors were quality craftsmanship, built both for privacy and escape attempts. I pushed the doors open and another world, glinting under flashing lights, greeted me. Sweat and arousal, bodies writhing, the pump of blood and music, drew us in.

  Stark shook his head and breathed deep, the cop and the wolf doing battle in the hedonism. Vaughn sidled up to the nearest human couple, grinding on the girl while he sucked a bloody kiss from the boy like air. I called to Evie, who’d retreated at the press of all of her hungers, her gaze darting to the entrance and then to a woman who whispered something in her ear before biting her earlobe. I drew her close, walking her in front of me with my hands on her hips. Stark had never lost sight of us, but I had to smack Vaughn on the head to get his attention. We weren’t stopping at the first level of hell.

  “The door at the end!” I pointed to the far wall on the other side of the dance floor. Stark and Vaughn nodded and shoved through the crowd. Stray fingers trailed my skin, grabbing, clawing. Bodies writhed, beckoning me into the fold. I leaned down and whispered in Evie’s ear. “I know you’re hungry, baby. We have time to feed after we meet my friend. If you ask me nicely.”

  My lips brushed her ear, echoing the woman at the entrance, and a full body shiver wracked her. Not from fear. I followed her gaze, experiencing vicariously through her. Vampires and humans merged on the bottom levels, and up top in the VIP curtained areas. Everywhere, prey bled and moaned from being fucked, but the top level was where moans turned to screams. I’d had fun on the top level for months before I increased my appetite and ventured lower. I had a rhyme to my reason this time, though.

  Upper echelon vampires, like true born and the kind that knew my father, would have keys or credit that gave them access to the most decadent levels of Asylum. Going through the front door and taking the elevator to an office wouldn’t be expected.

  A guard took one look at me and said, “Sundara has been expecting you. Enjoy level two.”

  I gave him a nod and filed into the elevator with my tentative newbies and Vaughn. My family had paid a thousand times over for the privilege of moving freely through all the levels. Father attended the grand opening in the Seventeen-eighties, when there’d only been three floors to choose from. For vampires like me, long lives and long memories create long-standing favor. I didn’t know how it felt to be treated as anything other than royalty, destined to move unencumbered, until Evie forced me to secrecy.

  My father’s voice dug into my mind like hooks. Only cowards need to lie. Evie looked at me with a tilt of her head.

  Only cowards need to torture their food for sport. Her amendment drew a sneer from me.

  The elevator stopped at level one and a half, a direct line to the owner’s office. Sundara had been an old friend of the family. She had to be a century or two older than my father, a former queen from the Fertile Crescent who’d been rumored to be alive in the twelve-hundreds. Few vampires I knew didn’t quail at the sight of the Oldman patriarch, but Sundara was renowned for her fearlessness, her appetite, and for being a pro at running establishments like Asylum. Protégés all over the world had opened up clubs like hers, but there would only be one Sundara, and one true Asylum.

  The doors opened and we were greeted by a black tile walkway parting a sea of two-way mirrors. To us, level two had become the floor, but to those below we walked above them, on their ceiling.

  Lust, the theme of the room, enveloped the patrons so thoroughly, the glass could barely mute the pull.

  Bloodlust, sex—vigorous fucking—replaced the dancing of level one. If patrons wanted privacy, special rooms encircled the main floor. If they wanted to truly bleed their prey, those rooms had drains that funneled away most of the mess for easy cleaning. I openly indulged the look on Evie’s face as she tried, and failed, to ignore the orgy under her feet. A sound system decades ahead of the mass market purred with muted music, moans of ecstasy, and wails of agony that slicked the passage to darker hungers in the lower levels.

  Level two could be the main goal, or the warm-up, depending on the vampire involved. The lower levels were for older vampires who’d grown bored of the standard fuck and bleed, or sadists like Vaughn who liked to make a mess. Violence and the mayhem, the kind of torture even the common house cat understands, can sweeten the blood of the kill.

  Evie and Stark followed close behind me, crackling with energy. Vaughn brought up the rear.

  “We’re gonna have time for a meal after we find the witch a hidey-hole, yeah?” My brother’s call, and my answering appetite, brought a smile to my lips. I could feed now.

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m not feeding here. Soon as you get the key, you get me out of this death trap.” Evie’s voice quavered and she shoved past me.

  At the center of the walkway resided an office, overlooking the debauchery like a twisted life guard tower in the middle of a pool. I approached, knowing the glass stretching across the huge double doors concealed two-way mirrors. If Sundara hadn’t already been expecting me, she’d have seen me and my rag-tag crew the second the elevator doors opened.

  The doors flew open and our host gave me a perfect red grin. Her dark eyes glittered, shining bright as the chestnut brown hair framing her face in Veronica Lake waves.

  “Jesse, my love!” Her beaming smile sharpened with her fangs and her eyes bloomed black. “You don’t call, you don’t write, we don’t fuck!”

  Evie growled so sharply, I turned, shocked to find her covering her mouth with her hand. Stark stared at her like she’d grown a second head. Her eyes widened—at him.

  Jealousy, huh? I grinned at my mate and she folded her arms, suddenly preoccupied with staring at every corner of the glittering black case Sundara called her office.

  “I see why it’s been so long.” Sundara shot the bond witch a quick glance. “Come here and give me a kiss.”

  I laughed and took her in my arms, walking her backward into her office with a wink. Leave it to my old friend to heighten the tension.

  “Where do you want it?” I crooned into the curve of her neck. Her rich laughter at the old joke stretched my memory to nearly two hundred years prior. Our first meeting.

  You’re a cocky little brute. She’d looked me up and down with a flirtatious flutter of her fan, while my father set up a private party for himself and business associates. Fucking humans. I’d been disgusted by the prospect and wanted no part in his merger. Sundara had been a life saver.

  Leave the boy with me, Oldman. I’ll make sure he’s properly entertained while you build an empire.

  Sundara had a soft spot for the scions of greatness. Must’ve been the queen in her. By design, she seemed drawn to perfection, to strong seed and strength. She used to say she loved corrupting us into our full carnal potential. She’d let me kiss and bite her everywhere that night and returned the favor until I nearly begged for mercy. Only the witch at my side had ever surpassed her skill, bringing me to heel when Sundara hadn’t quite been able to dominate me.

  A rumble of pleasure vibrated in Sundara’s throat when I gave her a love bite, drawing and licking blood before the wound could heal. I heard the doors close and tossed Vaughn a look over my shoulder. Evie’s furious and averted gaze and Stark’s swift perusal of Sundara’s curves made me laugh.

  “I could’ve sworn you were in New Y
ork a few years back, and you just breezed on by, not so much as a hat tip or a stiff how you do. You don’t visit me enough, Jesse. You or your disagreeable papa.”

  I winced, turning my attention to Sundara. Of all the affectations for my father, ‘papa’ made me cringe and the bitch knew it. The sound of the word made me feel like I belonged on a prairie.

  “Haven’t done more than pass through since Ninety-something. I’ve been meaning to visit—”

  “But you’ve been running wild with pretty boys and girls.” Vaughn gave Sundara a lascivious smile when she eyed him over my shoulder. “Very pretty turned boys and girls. What would your papa say if he knew you were using your club credits on turned baby vamps and werewolves?”

  “I’d rather he not find out. No one keeps a secret like you. I’m asking you do that and a favor for me. One that won’t get back to my father.”

  Sundara grinned and swayed in my arms like a schoolgirl. “You know me, baby. I like to make sure everyone leaves satisfied and I love secrets.”

  Her gaze traveled to Evie, up and down, perusing the bond witch’s form and taking in her scent. She gave Vaughn a once over with a nod of approval, a compliment considering his turned status. Then she landed on Stark, from blond head, to white-sneakered toe, and up again. She inhaled deep and licked her lips.

  “Who’re your friends?”

  She slinked out of my arms, her strappy six-inch heels barely clicking on slick obsidian marble. The sway of her hips in that black beaded dress would’ve sent me into a firestorm just a few weeks ago. I’d have tried my hand at bending her over her own desk. She might’ve let me.

  Now, Evie stole every ounce of my attention, even in jeans and a T-shirt. She didn’t flinch when Sundara wrapped one of Evie’s curls around a tan finger, her face a beautiful mask of calm.

  She looks like a queen in her own right.

  Evie’s mask faltered. She swallowed, and darted a glance at me, fraught with confusion and awe. She’d heard my thought, but the comparison between her and the serpentine beauty of Sundara didn’t compute.