Night Hunt

by L. L. Raand

  “Don’t let them hurt me anymore.”

  “I won’t. That’s a promise.”

  “There’s another passageway just ahead,” Lara reported, appearing like a specter out of the clouds of floating wreckage. “It’s partially collapsed and sounds like it’s about to cave in completely. There’s not much time.”

  Jody rasped, “Shift, Sylvan, and leave the girls with us. If we don’t make it out in time, you can bring help back.”

  “And what if you get trapped down here without blood?”

  “We’ll manage.”

  “These girls can’t host for you,” Sylvan said. “They’re both infected.”

  “Despite what you might think,” Jody said, “we don’t prey on the weak.”

  “Then you should let me feed you.” Sylvan snarled and thrust her face close to Jody’s. The Vampire smelled sick. No way was she facing Becca Land and telling her she’d led Jody to her death. “I’m not weak.”

  “Not yet.” Jody grinned through cracked lips. “That’s a pleasure I intend to reserve until I don’t have to rush.”

  “Then we shouldn’t waste time now. We came down together, we leave together.” Sylvan turned to Lara. “Lead the way, Warlord.”

  *

  Drake didn’t want to hurt them, but they didn’t leave her any choice. Once she let Niki and Rafe drag her far enough away from the building that they weren’t in danger of being immolated, she jerked her arms free and let her wolf have her way. Her skin stretched, her bones thickened, and wrath to match the blaze behind her poured out. She stopped her shift in half-form. She’d need both the strength and maneuverability of her wolf soon, but first she needed to see to her Pack. “The Rover is across the parking lot. Dasha is there. Evacuate this area. Everyone—back to the Compound.”

  “You need to come with us,” Niki said.

  “You know I can’t.” Drake blocked Niki’s arm when she tried to grab her and took her to the ground. She held her down with a hand on her neck, but she did not break skin. She needed Niki to listen, not submit. “A strike force may be on the way to the Compound, and they need to be alerted. You need to be there to secure the Pack until the Alpha and I return.”

  Niki’s eyes blazed with the ferocity of a dominant wolf, but she nodded. “Yes, Prima.”

  Drake lunged to her feet and spun on Rafe. The Vampire was bleeding, her chest and shoulder crusted and cracked with third-degree burns. She swayed, weakened, but her eyes were clear, and she gave no sign of the agony she must be suffering. “Where are they?”

  “The Liege was behind me when I started back,” Rafe said. “The others were in an adjoining room—farther underground I think. If they haven’t come out of the stairwell by now, it must have been too dangerous. They’ll be looking for another way out.”

  Drake fought down the blind urge to rush back into the building, to race through fire, to find Sylvan. Panic tore at her throat. She had to think. Her mate was inside, in danger, hurt, possibly dying. She couldn’t leave her any more than she could stop breathing.

  “Get Becca on the phone,” Drake said to Niki as another section of the building collapsed and a geyser of flames shot into the sky. Drake swallowed back bile. No one could have survived that conflagration.

  “I’ve got her,” Niki said a few seconds later, extending the phone.

  “Becca,” Drake snapped. “I need you to study the plans. I need alternate exit routes, something not connected to the central core. I need it now, Becca.”

  “Everything I have is sketchy, especially concerning the underground areas. There could be corridors, entrances I can’t see.” Becca’s voice rose, tight with anxiety. “Why, what’s happening?”

  “There’s been an explosion. Some of our team are trapped inside and the main stairs are impassable. I need another way in. Can you see anything that looks like a direct route to the underground portion of the complex?”

  “Oh God,” Becca said, “let me pull up the aerials again.”

  “Hurry. Scan the terrain for signs of other roads. Something undeveloped—tractor paths, ATV trails, firebreaks.”

  “There’s just the one road coming down from the mountain. There’s nothing else developed in this whole area. I don’t see…Wait, there’s a fairly linear break in the trees just north of the complex.”

  “A road?”

  “Maybe,” Becca said. “Some kind of unpaved artery branching off from the main road about a half mile from the installation. It just goes off into the forest—doesn’t look like it goes anywhere.”

  “That’s because it probably ends at the entrance to the underground complex. Give me coordinates.”

  “These satellite images might be old. This could be nothing.”

  “It’s all we’ve got.” Drake looked at Niki. “Give me your GPS.” Niki pulled the locator from her belt. “Go ahead.”

  “Wait, wait,” Becca said frantically. “All right. I’ve got it.”

  Drake punched in the GPS coordinates that Becca read off the computer. “Keep looking. If you find anything else, call Niki.”

  “Should we send backup?” Becca said.

  “No,” Drake said instantly. They needed to retreat, care for their injured, and regroup. “Where are you, exactly?”

  “In Albany. At Jody’s town house.”

  “Who’s with you?”

  “Right now, no one. But Zahn is here somewhere. Claude, I think.”

  “Stay there and advise your security we’ve been attacked. It may be dawn before your people return. Make sure you have hosts available.”

  “Drake—who—”

  “We’ll get them out, Becca.”

  “It’s Jody, isn’t it?”

  “Not just Jody,” Drake said grimly.

  *

  Tears flooded Sylvan’s eyes, smoke charred her throat. Her lungs burned. The girl in her arms had gone limp and quiet, but her heart beat, faint but steady against Sylvan’s chest. The girl smelled sick, but she smelled like Were too. Sylvan would not let her die.

  “Jody, are you all right?”

  “I’ve lost a lot of blood,” Jody said, her voice ringing hollowly. “The radiation poisoning is spreading, affecting my senses. Sylvan, if I don’t—”

  “You will,” Sylvan growled. “If we aren’t out in another minute, I’ll feed you.”

  “I thank you,” Jody said, “but this close to rising, this damaged, I need bonded blood.”

  “Then I’ll get you to Becca.” Sylvan pushed through air so heavy she felt as if she was slogging through mud. Impotence clawed at her insides. Maybe Jody was right—maybe she should let her wolf lead the way out. But Jody couldn’t carry one of these sick girls, and Lara might need to carry Jody. If she left them, she might lose them all. Her wolf raged, caught in a trap and determined to escape. Drake was outside somewhere—maybe under attack. Pain lanced through Sylvan’s belly as she battled the imperative to protect her mate at any cost.

  “Alpha.” Lara appeared out of the murk. “Stairs leading up, just ahead. They’re blocked with debris, but this must be a way out.”

  “Leave the girl here with Jody and come with me.” Sylvan gently placed the unconscious human on the floor next to the one Lara had been carrying and bounded over the jumble of twisted concrete and steel to the stairs. Halfway up, a steel girder encased in rubble blocked the staircase.

  “We’ll have to clear this.” She clawed a chunk of concrete loose and let it tumble down behind her. Lara squeezed in next to her, and they put their shoulders under the girder and heaved. It moved a few inches. Already, the stairwell was flooded with heat and smoke seeping up from below.

  Jody called up, “The tunnel behind us is burning. It’s up or nowhere.”

  “We are not dying down here,” Sylvan said. “I need your strength, Lara. Help me move this.”

  “Yes, Alpha.”

  *

  Drake ran along the overgrown track through the forest, the uneven ground lit by a flickering glow that pai
nted the sky the colors of a bloody dawn. Fingers of gray smoke signaled she was close to the burning complex. Abruptly, she burst from the trees into a small clearing. An empty clearing. No sentry shack, no loading dock, no shed or storage unit. She’d gambled and she’d been wrong. Sylvan was still trapped somewhere and she had failed her. She howled and dropped to her knees. Panting, she called her wolf and opened herself to the night. If Sylvan lived, she would find her.

  The panicked rush of creatures fleeing from the flames struck her first, and her skin tingled with the urge to run with them, to protect the young in her womb. The pelt thickened on her torso as her wolf fought to ascend. She shut her mind to the cries of the injured animals and the raging growls of her wolf and focused on Sylvan, on her wild pine scent, her sharp earthy taste, the force of her essence flooding inside her. A ripple of connection pulled at her consciousness and she turned to her left. Drake raced across the clearing and ripped the bushes and debris aside. There—hidden in the brush. A portal built into the side of the mountain, large enough to accommodate a small truck.

  Two huge metal doors were set into the hillside, secured by a heavy chain and padlock. She grasped the chain and jerked, snapping the links. The metal seared crevices across her palms. Whatever lay below was burning. Anyone inside might already be dead.

  She yanked the doors open and bounded inside.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Francesca leaned back in her leather-upholstered eighteenth-century desk chair, listening to the excuses of her capitaine in New Orleans flow from the phone, and gazed at the gilded ceiling above her. Delicate flowers with maroon centers that resembled drops of blood bordered the ivory coffered panels. Strands of pure gold ran through the lacy pattern along the hand-carved crown moldings. After so many centuries, ordinary beauty rarely moved her anymore, and finding artists capable of providing her with pleasure, aesthetic or otherwise, had become increasingly difficult. When she’d relocated the last time and created her new lair beneath Nocturne, she’d expected to be here for three or four decades until she was forced to move on and reestablish herself with a new social identity in another city. All the same, she’d vowed long ago that she would not live like a transient for eternity. She would surround herself with splendor and immerse herself in pleasure. Now that the Exodus had made it unnecessary for Vampires to hide the signs of their immortality, she would no longer have to move periodically. She could devote herself to preserving her true passion—power.

  When she’d allowed her underling to talk himself into an untenable position, she finally interrupted. “The thing is, darling, you are running a casino protected by my soldiers, financed by my money and resources, and you owe me tithe. You’ve missed two payments.”

  She waited to see if he would offer another excuse. He didn’t know if he did, he’d be signing his death warrant. Immortality was relative, and a Vampire without his head would never see another moonrise. When he wisely allowed he did indeed owe everything to her, she added, “And the proper amount would be sixty-five percent of your quarterly intake. I’m sure you don’t want me to send someone to review the terms with you.”

  His rapid, anxious agreement made her smile. Engendering fear was every bit as satisfying as precipitating pleasure. Perhaps more so, as the climax was so sweet. “I’m sure you’ll take care of it promptly. I’ll let you get back to work.”

  She rang off and made a note for Michel to pay him a little visit. A drop by from the Viceregal’s enforcer usually ensured she would not have to make a repeat phone call. A gratifying warmth spread through her belly. Doing business satisfied her. Clean, ruthless, violent—but unsentimental and practical. Much like sex.

  The phone rang and she answered it herself rather than letting it go through to voicemail or waiting for Daniela to pick up.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you free?” Nicholas asked abruptly.

  “Not exactly. This is the middle of my workday.” She disliked his attitude—he seemed to feel that he was the leader of their small cadre, when in fact, of all the Shadow Lords the Vampires had the most at risk. When their loose alliance of humans and Praeterns had decided to thwart the mission of Sylvan Mir and the Praetern Coalition by any means possible, they’d all accepted the chance of life-threatening repercussions. She had no doubt Sylvan would go to war with her if Sylvan discovered she had allied with enemies of the Pack. The most Nicholas might suffer if his involvement was exposed would be social sanction and perhaps loss of some of his business associations. A great proportion of the human population might be opposed to Praetern sovereignty, but humans wouldn’t go on record as supporting genocide, and their trappings of civility usually prevented them from killing each other over ideological differences. At least openly. The Fae were largely untouchable—no one had successfully gone to battle with them in millennia. As to Bernardo and his Weres, Sylvan would crush him—and good riddance. He was a pathetic pretender next to a true Alpha like Sylvan. Nicholas was far from the leader of this group, but she still needed to cultivate his confidence. His money, his control over HUFSI, his many contacts in Albany and Washington had made him the architect of their plans. His obsession with destroying the Weres was only a breath away from extending to exterminating all Praeterns, and she didn’t intend to allow him to take her by surprise. Hiding her annoyance, she asked, “What is it you need?”

  “To speak with you for a few moments.”

  “All right.”

  “In person.”

  “Can’t this wait?”

  “I don’t think you want it to.”

  Francesca sighed. As Viceregal and Chancellor, she oversaw one of the largest territories in the world—and controlling half a country full of ruthless, independent predators was not easy. Unlike the Weres, the Vampires felt very little sense of community or loyalty that wasn’t imposed by force. Some Vampires, the young or the aged, welcomed the protection of a more powerful Vampire and congregated in seethes controlled by a dominant leader, but in general the Clans segregated along bloodlines and functioned as feudal states. All six North American Clan leaders were aggressive, dominant Vampires—and each of them had an eye on her position. She did not want a war, not until she’d had a chance to build an army, and considering that Vampires rarely died and just as rarely produced offspring, recruiting soldiers from the limited ranks of those who might be qualified was a challenge.

  If Nicholas ever succeeded in creating his hybrid Weres or found a way to control born Weres, she would have access to the perfect soldier. The genetic link that bound Weres and Vampires centuries ago was broken, but science might possibly forge a new one, and with unlimited ranks of fierce fighters, she would not need to worry about securing her sovereignty. With her power base unassailable, she could look to Europe and even greater influence. To accomplish that, she needed to know what Nicholas had planned. Then she could protect herself and her Vampires from fallout should the plans fail.

  “Of course I’ll make time, then, for you,” Francesca said. “Where would you like to meet?”

  “I’m outside in the parking lot.”

  She laughed. “Really. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to come inside? I can promise you an enjoyable experience.”

  “I’m quite sure you could,” he said, his tone warming. “Regrettably, I have to decline.”

  “Some other time, then.”

  “Yes,” Nicholas said. “I know you’re busy. Ten minutes should be plenty of time.”

  “I’ll see you in two. And you can have all the time you need.”

  She disconnected and mentally called for Michel. A moment later the door to her office opened.

  “You have need of something, mistress?” Michel asked.

  “Yes,” Francesca said, rising to cross the room. “Nicholas is outside. I need to see him.”

  “You don’t intend to meet with him alone?”

  “Darling, I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m quite sure you can. But there’s no reason to pu
t yourself in danger just to prove it. I’ll go with you.”

  Laughing, Francesca slid her arm through Michel’s and leaned in to kiss her. “Mmm. Where have you been?”

  Michel frowned, leading the way through the underground hallways to an exit only she and Francesca used. “I was in the club. I didn’t think you’d need me tonight.”

  “So you’ve been fucking Weres. Anyone I know?”

  “No,” Michel said abruptly, keying in the code to release the locks on the security door. She ascended the stairs first, checked the outside for any sign of danger, then reached down for Francesca’s hand. “No one important.”

  “You’re restless,” Francesca murmured, stroking her nails down the side of Michel’s neck. “I think we’ll have to find someone for you to kill.”

  *

  Jody leaned against the wall as chunks of rock and twisted metal rained down from the stairwell a few feet away. She remembered dying the first time, the burning pain, the dulling of her senses, the agonizing grief at leaving Becca. She hadn’t fought it. She hadn’t wanted Becca to try to save her. This time she struggled to stay alive. Becca had made the ultimate sacrifice—risking her own life for Jody’s, and Jody couldn’t let it end like this. She’d opened herself to Becca and let Becca be vulnerable to her. And now, without her bite, without her blood, Becca could end up the victim of mindless blood craving, and she could not let that happen. She would not let that happen. The smoke-filled air didn’t bother her. She didn’t get most of her oxygen from the air she breathed but from the blood she ingested, rich with ferrous carriers. She was better equipped than the others to withstand the flames that even now consumed the tunnel behind her, but the radiation had already done its damage. Her organs were shutting down, her systems failing. She wasn’t sure she could stand.

  From nearby, a weak moan took her attention away from her own dying body. One of the captives was awake.

  “Please,” a faint voice came to her out of the darkness. The girl coughed, her voice cracking. “Please, who are you?”