by Debra Dunbar
The other woman smiled faintly. “That would go a long way toward convincing my pack you’re to be trusted.”
Kelly took a deep breath. “And hopefully I’ll be leaving soon.”
The werewolf looked oddly unsettled at the idea. “I patrol this area each night. Are you interested in any rival vampires I catch? Maybe you’d like to join in my hunts.”
Normally Kelly would be interested, especially with the need to provide information to her family, but given her injured state, and the fact she was unlikely to get a regular source of human blood in the heart of werewolf territory, she doubted she could keep up. Her pride swelled, choking her slightly. “No. This is your land. You go ahead; just let me know if you find anything out from those you catch, or bring them to me if you can.”
Jaq’s eyes glowed, reminding Kelly that she was not the only predator in the room. “Do you want them alive and talking, or just the heads?”
This werewolf was downright nuts. “Umm, alive and talking, but severely disabled would be best. Better dead than escaped, though.”
Jaq grinned, picking up her donut. “I agree.”
12
Kyle frowned down at his tumbler of gin. He had more pressing matters to worry about than some cast–off New starving and going insane in the werewolf territories. You’re not ready, a nagging voice inside his head reminded him. He wasn’t. Haste was unseemly in a vampire, but he chafed under his father’s increasingly condescending rule.
Would it really be more advantageous to wait than to act now? In another fifty years, some other vampire might have snatched Kincaid’s territory, and he’d wind up stuck between two losing options. He was Born of a Born of a Born. From the moment of his birth he’d been shepherded toward his destiny. Already at three–hundred years, he had more power than most of his father’s top advisors. Those with greater power bowed before him because of his lineage. It was good to be Prince, although it would be better to be Master. If he passed up the opportunity before him, would he find himself regretting it?
But instead of concentrating on getting his finances and alliances in order for a possible takeover, he was listening to one of his staff complain about the stupid girl. He’d dumped her in the werewolf territory expecting her to be dead within a few days, and he’d put a silver knife on the table beside her just in case she wanted to take the easy way out. He wouldn’t condemn her for using the knife. No one would. In fact, his man Rube was incensed that she hadn’t used it.
“She’s drinking blood from wildlife,” Rube repeated in outrage. “A bunny.”
“And this matters to me why?” Kyle asked in monotone voice. “I didn’t ask you to go check on her. I know you all still have bets on the table, but we have more pressing things to do. Instead, you’re tormenting an exile and critiquing her dining habits.”
“Juan was trying to collect,” Rube protested. “He was sure she was dead by now. I don’t have her killing herself until next week. Besides, she’s right next to the Kincaid border. I figured if she’s still alive she could prove of some use to us.”
Kyle sighed. “She’s a business manager, not a spy. She’ll never survive long enough to get us information. If some Kincaid scout doesn’t kill her, the werewolves or the humans will.”
“They haven’t yet. I’m sticking with my wager that she’ll last another week. She might as well be valuable for that week.”
Kyle ran a hand through his dark hair, tugging it in frustration. “Fine. Go back tonight and see what she’s managed to find out. I don’t care what you threatened, don’t kill her yourself. Her fate is in her own hands now. And besides, you’d be disqualified from the betting pool.”
“She should be dead,” Rube asserted. “What self–respecting vampire eats cute little bunnies? Meat from the grocery store is one thing, but blood from an animal? It was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“We’ve never been a day away from starvation,” Kyle said, amusement coloring his voice. “It’s hard for us to know what we’d do in that position.”
“I’d never eat a bunny,” Rube insisted vehemently. “She doesn’t have any fangs, and she practically gnawed the thing’s head off. You should have seen it, Sir. Wager aside, if I see her eating a raccoon or a groundhog, I’m going to kill her.”
Kyle shook his head. “I said no, and I mean no. Kill her without my permission, and you’ll find yourself taking her place in that trailer. Understood?”
Rube swallowed hard and nodded.
“Good. But just to show you I’m not a complete stick–in–the–mud, let’s have a little side bet. If she dies in the next thirty days, you win. If she lives, I win.”
“Even if she’s insane?” Rube asked doubtfully.
“If she’s insane and tearing the heads off animals now, she’ll hardly live another month,” Kyle replied dryly.
“Ok,” Rube agreed. “If I win, I get my pick of the humans at the next private staff party.”
“And if I win,” Kyle said in amusement. “I get to watch you eat a rabbit.”
13
The moonlight through the naked trees cast faint shadows along the ground. Kelly’s night vision highlighted the warm patches where animals had recently passed, as well as the shape of a rabbit hiding in a patch of briar. Wind stirred her short black hair, but she didn’t notice. Her focus was on listening for the vampire she was to meet tonight, hoping he’d bring more blood. The small bag she’d consumed the night before only highlighted her desperate need. The boost it had given her reminded her of how many skills she’d lost, and how close to death she’d been. Her body ached with hunger, and she felt dizzy and weak.
Kelly shifted slightly and heard the crunch of leaves beneath her feet. Presumably he was to meet her in the same spot as before. He’d given her no instructions otherwise, so she’d just have to assume he’d manage to find her.
As if on cue, a shadow disengaged itself from behind an oak and moved towards her, gliding on silent feet. The wave of his aura was sharp against her skin. Family. The very feel of him brought her a sense of relief, easing the tension she experienced in this desolate place. It felt so good to have another vampire near. Even the hated Pierre would be welcome right now. Any vampire from her family helped her feel more settled, more in control.
“At least you’re not eating a bunny this time,” he sneered.
She was hungry enough to, but she’d hoped he had something better with him. Some kind of reward to keep her going.
“I have information.” She wanted to get right to the point, so she could feed. There was no way she’d be going home right away. It would probably take a few times before she proved herself enough to be allowed back home.
“Speak.”
“There are Kincaid spies and scouts that frequent the area. They move through fast and tend to exit into our territory in Hagerstown and along the Maryland border near Martinsburg. They stay a few days then pass back through on their way to Virginia. I doubt they’re planning any large–scale attack. Most likely they’re just taking preventative measures.”
“Or planning a pre–emptive strike.” The other vampire rubbed his ear, lost in thought. “How many? Are they increasing the frequency of their scouting missions, or just following a routine schedule.”
“They’ve increased, but I don’t know how many.” Kelly faltered, not wanting to give enough information away that her source would be questioned. “I’ve only been here nine days, and most of that I was unconscious. Not much time for me to see any patterns in movement or judge the frequency.”
“So catch one and interrogate him.”
Right. In her condition? Jaq had offered to assist her, to bring in the next vampire she caught so they could question him or her. Good thing, otherwise she’d really be stuck. She was a casino manager, not a spy, not a warrior. This sneaking around the woods wasn’t her strong suit. But “no” wasn’t exactly an option.
“What information does the Master wish me to
obtain, specifically?” she asked.
“What Kincaid is doing in the border lands, and what he is planning.”
Kelly nodded, her heart sinking. She hated to keep going back to Jaq for help, but this wasn’t something she could do herself. “When do you need this information? I don’t really have any way of knowing when they’ll be sending more scouts over. Is there some way to contact you?”
“Nope.” The vampire seemed almost gleeful. “I’ll be back in three days.”
Three days. Let’s hope he had a bag of blood or she’d starve before he returned. “Okay.” She watched the vampire grin before breaking the silence. “Can I have some blood now? I got you the information you wanted.”
“What? Lost your taste for rabbit?”
Kelly swallowed her pride. “Please. I won’t be any good to you dead.”
His grin grew wider until he appeared eerily like the Cheshire cat in the moonlight. “Yes you will. I’ve got a sizable sum of money on you only making it one more week. Personally I care more about that than if you manage to collect any further information. You’re New. You’ll be killed by the first Kincaid scout that gets downwind of you if the werewolves don’t take you out first. Since you’ll be dead either way, I might as well profit from it.”
The vampire vanished in a burst of speed, but not before his laugh rang out through the forest.
Kelly felt anger bubble up. They ripped her fangs out, dumped her in some backwater without even a fucking toothbrush, then took odds on her survival and made a game out of her struggle. This was her life! Everything had been stripped from her; she was fighting to survive, and this jerk was treating it like a sweet sixteen college playoff. Screw them.
Running on adrenaline–fueled fury, she moved with vampire speed to Dale’s. It was only about midnight, and activities were in full swing. Country music pounded from the tavern, and she could hear the clink of glass and the shouts of the humans enjoying their evening. She prowled around the woods behind the bar, keeping downwind as much as possible and watching carefully for a suitable victim. Sober people going in were ruled out, and those leaving weren’t drunk enough yet to consider. It was possible she’d need to wait a few hours for a truly inebriated patron to leave.
“Scott!” a man yelled into the parking lot after a guy climbing into an old sedan. “You going to the strip club?”
A strip club? Where was the strip club?
“Yeah,” the guy yelled back. “Meet you there?”
“Gotta finish our drinks and we’ll be there,” the first guy promised, stepping back into the doorway.
Kelly walked casually by the car, identifying the particular smell of Scott as well as his vehicle then blended into a bush by the road to see which way he went. The car turned left and Kelly ran after it, keeping in the shadows. A short two miles down the road, the car pulled into another establishment advertising exotic dancers. That was it? Two friggen miles? Less than three miles from her trailer? There had to be a God and he had to be smiling on her tonight.
Bars, strip clubs, casinos were all businesses that vampires had a hand in. Kelly hadn’t been old enough or high enough to be privy to all the operations of the family, but she’d managed a lot of the accounting for the various holding corporations. Strip clubs weren’t just good business, they were easy hunting grounds. Drunk men were plenty, and the frequent drug activity made it easy to feed from the dancers too. Blood laced with cocaine had a certain spicy flavor, a quick rush. It was very nice.
Kelly prowled the outer edges of the club and planned a strategy. She’d look for a dancer or a customer drunk or high to the point of losing consciousness, and then she’d make her move. Grabbing an empty beer bottle from the parking lot, she smashed it against the curb and held the neck, testing the sharp edge with a finger. It would look like a drunken fight, a barroom brawl gone wrong, and a victim that was drunk or high would likely not remember enough to tell the police.
It took great patience. She squelched down the anger and the hunger inside her and waited. Man after man left the strip club. Two o’clock came and went. Finally, around four o’clock, a single man staggered out the door and made his way to the far edge of the parking lot. He fumbled for his keys and dropped them on the ground. Weaving side to side, the guy reached for the keys and lost his balance, face planting on the dirt.
Well, this one should be easy, she thought, tying her overly large t–shirt in a knot under her breasts before staggering up to him as if drunk. Not that it probably mattered. This guy was so far gone, she could have been a donkey–faced leper and he’d have hit on her.
“Hey,” she slurred. It wasn’t hard with her missing teeth. “Got a cigarette I can borrow?”
The guy stumbled getting to his feet, and Kelly thought for a moment that he would go face down in the dirt again. He stared at her with huge bleary eyes.
“Cigarette?” she asked again.
He stared at her and patted clumsily at his pockets.
Oh, for Christ sake, she thought. What did she need to do to get this guy in the car so everyone coming and going wouldn’t be witness to a bloody mess?
“Wanna screw?” That might work. He was at a strip club, after all.
The man’s eyes bugged out in surprise. He nodded, looking down her body and swaying against the car. Picking up his keys, Kelly beeped off the car alarm and helped him in the driver’s side where he slumped against the steering wheel. At least she wouldn’t need to worry about him actually trying to take her up on her offer.
Carefully closing the driver’s door, Kelly glanced around, scenting the air and listening carefully for any sound that might indicate her werewolf minders had caught up with her. Mike always made a racket, as if he didn’t care that she knew he was following her, but Jaq was nearly impossible to detect. The only werewolf smell that she caught was old and faint, and she got none of Jaq’s distinctive icy pine scent. Clear sailing — for now, but she’d better make quick work of this and get back.
Kelly slid into the passenger side, carefully keeping one eye on the club’s door to make sure she was not observed. The man made a snoring noise and lurched to the right, collapsing on top of her in a heap, and crushing her at an awkward angle against the car door. The overwhelming odor of alcohol fumes crashed over her senses.
“Ugh. Get off me.”
He snored in response. Just lovely. The guy felt like he weighed a million pounds. As a vampire, Kelly should have been able to easily move him, but for some reason this was difficult — another indication of her weakened state. Finally she managed to shove him aside and scoot herself into position. Again ensuring no one was in view around the parking lot, she sliced his wrist with the broken beer bottle. The guy didn’t even grunt.
It was hard and messy work. The blood spilled out across the man’s wrist and Kelly found herself frantically chasing every drop, cutting him again and again as it clotted and slowed. The blood hit her starved system like a hammer, making her feel oddly weak and giddy. Or maybe it was the alcohol rushing to her head. Wow, this guy was drunk, drunk drunk.
More. She needed more. It wasn’t just the alcohol in the man’s veins seizing her control and making her greedy and reckless, it was her body taking over her common sense — demanding what she’d been without for too long. The taste pushed her over the edge. Warm, like sweet silk on her tongue, the burn of alcohol a nice compliment to the rich flavor. Some small part of her brain screamed at her to take only a pint and walk away, to be cautious, but she ignored it. There may not be another chance — not for a long time. She battled with her conscience, starvation getting the upper hand. So what if she killed him? This was just a human. He didn’t matter, and she desperately needed every drop he had to give.
Again and again she sliced the unconscious man as each wound started to clot. She should stop. She needed to stop, but her body had a will of its own, and she just couldn’t pull away. It was getting more and more difficult to suck blood from the man, and she felt his cool f
lesh against hers, heard his heart stutter.
“Stop it! Stop!”
Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and ripped her from the car as if she were a rag doll, tossing her aside to the gravel. Gripping the bottle defensively, Kelly looked up into silver eyes in a freckled face.
Jaq loomed over her, but instead of attacking Kelly, she began to berate her brother for his carelessness. “I swear he wants you to do something like this so he has an excuse to kill you. I’m going to kick his ass for this — off playing poker when he’s supposed to be watching you. Worthless cur.”
Kelly waved the bottle at her in what she hoped was a menacing fashion. Sometimes there was one Jaq, and sometimes there were two, fuzzy and blurring together. How much alcohol had been in that guy’s blood?
“And you!” Kelly cringed as both indistinct Jaq’s pointed a finger at her. “What do you think you’re doing? I warned you not to go after any of the humans. The pack will have your head when they find out what you’ve done.” The werewolf looked at the man in the car and uttered a soft oath. “Stay there. Don’t move.”
Surprisingly, Kelly obeyed while Jaq crawled into the bloody car with what she was sure was a dead body. In a daze, she looked down at herself. Blood coated her hands and her shirt, splotches darkened her sweatpants. She felt the sticky texture of it down her chin and neck and guiltily licked her lips. Oh God, she’d killed him. She’d lost control and killed someone. She needed to run. Get as far away as possible before Jaq called the police. Or worse, called in the other werewolves. She should run.
Where would you go? The little voice in her head taunted. She had nothing. A vampire wandering another’s territory, covered in bloody too–large clothing wouldn’t exactly blend into her surroundings. Plus there was that annoying lack of cash. Her only hope to get back to her family was doing this spy job for the Master. If she left, there would go her only chance of redemption. If she stayed, the werewolves would kill her. The little voice laughed. Either way, she was dead. Dead like the man in the car. Horror gripped her. She’d killed someone — someone whose only crime was being drunk at a strip club.