by Terry Spear
“I—I need your help.” The glass slipped out of her hand and fell on the carpeted floor, spilling the wine all over it. The sword fell from her other hand. Her eyes slammed shut, her head rolled back, and she collapsed against the seat back of the sofa.
What the hell? He quickly leaned over and felt the pulse at her neck and found her pulse shallow and uneven. He withdrew his fingers. Sticky warm blood coated them, and he smelled the sweet iron that called to him. “Hell and damnation.”
Sweeping her hair aside, he found the telltale bites of a vampire. But the attack had been sadistic. Bruises covered the area, and the bites were jagged, not neatly confined as they would be if a vampire had fed and pleasured a host. He hadn’t even sealed the wounds, and she was still bleeding freely.
As much as he hated the notion of tasting the huntress’s blood, he leaned over and licked the wounds, sealing them, memorizing her sweet blood, wanting more.
“Damnation! Basil!” he yelled out.
Though he’d only called for Basil since the club was his, all three of his friends rushed into the lounge. He assumed they’d been listening at the door as quickly as they entered the room.
“What the hell,” Colt said, his steely gaze giving Atreides the evil eye.
“Someone bit her. She abandoned her car on the road in a southwesterly direction and walked all the way here. She didn’t manage to explain what had happened before she passed out.”
“She needs blood.” Basil smelled the scent of her blood in the air. “I’ve got B-positive in the fridge.” He vanished.
“I’ll search for her car,” Colt said, his teeth clenched, and Atreides knew he was trying to keep his fangs in check, her blood calling to him, like it was to each of the vampires in the room.
Atreides turned to Renault. “Go together. I wager the huntress wouldn’t have permitted a vampire to feast on her. He has to be a rogue. She said she thought she had hit something. She must have left her car. But she didn’t say why she had walked here. I want the two of you to go together.”
“Gotcha,” Colt said. “Come on, Renault. Let’s find the little lady’s car.”
Renault eyed the huntress. “I’d rather watch over the lady.” He smiled casually, then he caught Atreides’s glare and bit back a dark chuckle.
Once Renault and Colt disappeared, Atreides pulled off Selena’s high heels, then rested her legs on the couch. Small feet, shapely legs.
Grasping her wrist, he felt the feather-light pulse. All they needed now was some damned rogue vampire attacking huntresses. And for the huntress to die in the vampire club.
When Basil returned with a bag of blood, he said, “She’ll need an I.V. I’ve sent one of my girls to the nearest hospital for one. But it will take a while. Are you sure you don’t want to take her to a hunters’ clinic?”
“And have the League come down on all of us, trying to determine which one of us did this to her? You’ll know they’ll question every one of your patrons.”
Basil rubbed his chin and nodded. “All right. I’ll ask around to see if anyone had left the club who might have had the opportunity to attack the woman while we were here discussing plans. Don’t let her die in the meantime. I wouldn’t want to have to close down my establishment on the account of a huntress’s death here.” Basil stalked out of the room.
After removing a plaid blanket from the arm of one of the other couches, Atreides covered the huntress. “Did you see the vampire who targeted you?” he asked, not expecting a reply. Her hands were ice cold, and he took them in his and attempted to warm them. “Why did you leave the car, Selena? You would have been safe inside your vehicle.”
Twilight poked her head inside. “The word’s out that she was bitten. Can I see her?”
“I don’t think she would appreciate being viewed as a curiosity,” Atreides said too harshly.
Twilight shrugged. “I saw the two of you dancing. It didn’t look to me like she was too uncomfortable being on show.”
The Goth was a strange woman, and there was no figuring her motives, but Atreides sensed she was more than just curious about the huntress.
Twilight moved into the room and crouched beside the huntress. “Some of the guys are saying she asked for it.”
His gut clenched. No woman deserved to be abused. “She was preyed upon.”
The slight woman nodded. “I didn’t say I agreed. It’s just what I heard. And some of them, well those who were speaking out because I can’t hear their telepathic conversations, said you were more than intrigued by the huntress.”
“Don’t you have someone to dance with?”
“The music has stopped.”
Atreides turned and listened. All he could hear were people talking.
“Basil’s questioning everyone concerning who left the club about the time the huntress was gone. No more dancing tonight.”
“So why don’t you go home?”
She shrugged. “Nothing to do there for me. It’s more interesting here. Iconia’s pretty pissed. I would have figured she did it.”
“The bite marks are too deep. Too vicious. It had to be a male.”
“Well, I only meant she had the best motive.”
“A rogue doesn’t need a motive.”
Reaching over to Selena, Twilight touched her dark hair. “Iconia was here the whole time dancing with that berserker, Ragnar. I might have thought she sent him after the huntress, but he hadn’t left either.”
“You were keeping pretty good tabs on everyone?”
“My life is dull. I find your world fascinating. So, yeah, I watch people a lot.”
Atreides had never noticed. The woman was an oddity, and yet she faded in the background. Every once in a while, she would catch his eye, and the way she smiled at him, he assumed she was interested in snagging his attention. He wondered if she was afraid of Iconia’s wrath. Only other vampiresses dared to entertain hope that he would show any interest in them.
Twilight sighed heavily. “I thought you didn’t care anything about humans or huntresses. In fact, a lot of people were surprised tonight. You’d better believe that you and your huntress are the talk of your kind this evening.”
Atreides gave her a harsh look and addressed the real concern. “Who left the club after the huntress left?”
“Three male vampires I didn’t know but I gave a description to Basil. Some of the others probably know them.”
Selena groaned but she didn’t open her eyes. Twilight touched her cheek. “I’m Twilight, if you ever want to talk.” She winked at Atreides and stood. “Where are you taking her after you give her blood?”
Hell if he knew. He didn’t want to return her to her family looking like this. In a couple of days, the vampire’s marks would have faded because the hunter genetics, just like a vampire’s, meant they healed from their injuries faster than humans.
The woman smiled. “Your place. Has to be because you wouldn’t trust anyone else to protect her. Maybe I can drop by tomorrow. See how she’s doing? She might want to talk to someone other than just a bunch of vampires.”
“The hunter kind don’t associate with humans either.”
“Maybe—being that she came to a vampires’ lair in the first place unlike others of her kind—she does. You’d better watch out for Iconia though. She has already told some of her friends if you take the huntress home with you, you’ll both live to regret it.”
Basil walked into the room to see what else he could do.
Atreides studied Twilight and then forced her to tell him what she knew about the huntress because he knew something more was going on with her—especially when they’d found her skulking around the parking lot.
“Okay, okay, the truth is a human named Tara Green told me to speak with Selena,” Twilight said.
"Why would a human tell you to speak to a huntress at a vampire club? Why at this one? And what were you supposed to talk to her about?" And why hadn’t she told Atreides right off the bat?
"I don't
know.” Twilight shrugged. “Her sister?"
He couldn't believe it. He was beginning to wonder if Twilight and the other female human had been compelled to tell Selena to meet them at the club.
Twilight frowned. "You know, I can't remember. I was thinking Tara Green told me to go there, but now I don't know."
So Tara might have been the one brainwashed to tell Twilight to meet Selena at the club. But if Twilight couldn't exactly remember… She very well could have been also.
Atreides telepathically told Ragnar, "Find me this Tara Green woman. Bring her here to me."
"On my way."
"You're thinking a vampire compelled the women to send Selena to the club?" Basil asked.
"Yeah. It doesn't make any sense that two humans would think it would be acceptable to send a huntress to a vampire club."
“My vampire club,” Basil said.
“Right. That I frequent the most,” Atreides said.
“I’ll go see if I could learn anything else.” Looking like she might have done wrong, Twilight turned and hurried out of the lounge.
Chapter 5
Atreides didn’t know what to think as he took the huntress home with him. He kept feeling he was making a mistake in doing so, but he really didn’t want to give her up to any other vampires, and he was sure turning her over to the hunters would be even more of a mistake.
"Even though we couldn't find the huntress's car, we did find blood on the pavement, a pile of ashes, and clothes. She must have killed the vampire who bit her," Colt said.
"An ancient then." If it had been a newly turned vampire, he wouldn't have turned into ash, and the body would still be on the road. "He couldn't have turned her then, if she was able to kill him." That had worried Atreides. That she had been turned into one of them. The person a vampire turned couldn't kill the vampire. He was glad the vampire wasn’t free to injure or kill anyone else then.
But the woman’s car had simply vanished. Basil had drugged her—this time—to ease the pain while she healed. She would heal faster than a human, but Atreides didn’t want the League to know she’d been attacked by one of his kind until she was well enough to tell him more about her attacker. He had every intention of taking the bastard down himself. While Daemon was away, Atreides, his twin brother and a prince in his own right, had every authority to police their own people, if warranted.
Atreides’s staff never went to the club, yet as soon as he drove into the garage, they were there to assist. They had learned all that had happened. As much as he understood, anyway.
He knew as soon as he had seen the huntress enter the club, she would be trouble.
The bleak darkness surrounded Selena and her heels clicked endlessly against the asphalt, the soles of her feet sore, her calves tired, but she had to push on, had to keep moving until she found the vampire dance club. She had to get Atreides to help her. She wasn’t certain he would though.
She envisioned the way they had danced, their close moves, the way the heat of his body turned hers into an inferno, the way his smoldering, dark gaze had mesmerized her. She remembered the way his lips had turned up slightly, but the feeling behind his expression had eluded her. Had he been amused at her boldness? Or something else?
Then a low rumbling growl sounded behind her, and every thought of him instantly vaporized.
The wolf had moved, and he was damned close.
Heart thundering against her ribs, she couldn’t look back. The dance club was straight ahead. Another half mile. She thought.
She could make it.
She stumbled along as fast as she could in the high heeled sandals. She would never wear the blasted things again. She was afraid to attempt to run, was certain the wolf would pounce on her as soon as she did.
Another low threatening growl. He was stalking her. Keeping the same distance between them, but it wasn’t enough.
Everyone in horror movies always looked back at whatever evil stalked them. And then they would be torn to shreds, devoured alive. If she didn’t look back, he wouldn’t attack, she tried to convince herself.
A quarter of a mile. She could hear the boisterous music in the distance, and the glowing lights served as a comforting beacon in the night. She was almost there.
Yet, the hair stood on the nape of her neck. She couldn’t fight the fear escalating in her blood that the wolf would soon pounce on her and kill her. That he was only letting her believe she would make it before he lunged at her.
He had not attacked all this time. Maybe he wasn’t stalking her but corralling her back to the dance club for some dark purpose.
Every breath she took chilled her lungs. Goose bumps trailed down her arms and legs. Instinctively, she rubbed her arms, trying to warm them.
Wrapping around her in a seductive, sultry way, a voice whispered, “Huntress.”
A vampire. Not a wolf. A blood-seeking vampire.
A woman’s voice? A man’s? She couldn’t tell. All she knew was she would soon be at the dance club.
Before long she would ask for Atreides’s help. She fought the panic setting in.
“You will never make it before I’ve had my fill of you. So close, but not close enough,” the voice whispered.
The threat was all too real. She started to run.
A hand seized her neck from behind. She screamed.
But no one in the noisy club would hear her.
She clawed at the hands around her neck, the strong fingers painfully tightening, bruising, attempting to subdue her, trying to force her to drop her sword. She tried to twist out of his iron grip, but she couldn’t break free. In that instant, she knew she was going to die. But she wouldn’t give up that easily. Make the beast fight for his meal. She stomped on his foot with the sharp heel of her sandal. He cursed in some ancient language. Then something struck her hard in the back of the head, sending streaks of light across black satin in her mind.
Her fingers loosened on her sword, and she dropped it with a clatter on the asphalt. Her senses still reeling from the blow to the head, she fell to her knees, scrambled for her sword, and grasped it with her fingertips. A hand grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the asphalt, then lifted her. Hands encircled her throat again.
The music from the club, the excruciating pain radiating through the back of her skull, the malevolent being’s teeth tearing into her neck, black eyes watching her, teeth dripping with her blood…all vanished into the mist.
“My lord,” Jacques said, waking Atreides from a fitful sleep. “The huntress cried out and thrashed about, but then became still as death. Her heart is still racing. You said I was to tell you if there was any change in her condition.”
Atreides combed his fingers through his hair and finally focused on his loyal manservant, who looked as neat as ever in a crisp white shirt and black pants, his dark brows raised. “Jacques repeat all after you said, ‘My lord.’”
Jacques cleared his throat and repeated the message.
Atreides stumbled out of bed. “She’s asleep still though?” He yanked on a robe, then tied it.
“Sound asleep. Almost eerily so, my lord.”
“And she has made no other sounds, or reacted in any other way?”
“I don’t think the one who attacked her can control her thoughts.”
Atreides gave him a disgruntled look. “We have no idea what might occur between an ancient vampire and a huntress.”
Jacques coughed a little. “Your brother’s mate, my lord.”
“Tezra,” Atreides said. “She’s an anomaly in and of herself.” He reached the door to the guestroom and paused. “She cried out though?”
“Aye. Maybe she had a nightmare about her assailant attacking her.”
“That would be a good bet. But we believe her assailant was an ancient and is dead.” Opening the door to the room, Atreides wished he could take away her nightmares like he could a human’s. But he could not control a huntress’s mind. And he hoped a vampire who had fed on her couldn’t giv
e her new nightmares, if by some chance her attacker was still alive—unless there had been two of them. That might explain the multiple bites on her neck.
He stared at the gown she wore, the silky material revealing rounded full-sized breasts and rosy nipples while the covers rested at her waist. He turned to Jacques who raised his brows and gave a slight shrug.
“I told you to ask Catherine to provide a gown for her. Has she nothing more modest?”
Jacques shook his head.
As much time as the man spent off-duty with Atreides’s housekeeper, Atreides figured he would know. “I’ll sit with her now that I’m up. Get some rest.”
“As you wish, my lord.” Jacques bowed, then shut the door on his way out.
Atreides took a seat next to the bed and touched the huntress’s cheek. Though she’d received two units of blood, she still appeared pale, and he didn’t like that she was so unresponsive. He pushed away the hair caressing her neck and considered the bite marks. They were already fading. Tomorrow, he could send her home to her hunter family and let them protect her. Keeping her any longer than necessary wouldn’t be prudent. Even now, her family could be searching for her, worried that she hadn’t returned home.
He glanced at her gown and figured he should pull the covers higher. But then again, she would probably be too hot.
Yawning, he leaned back in the chair and wondered why the hell he was sitting up on the uncomfortable piece of furniture. The bed looked much more inviting and if the huntress thrashed around, he would still be aware of it.
He slipped into bed and at one point, felt the huntress snuggling up to him. He chuckled, darkly amused, though he really shouldn’t have been. She stirred his libido with her soft body pressed up against his when he shouldn’t be feeling this way. Then, without another moment’s hesitation, he wrapped his arm around the huntress, glad she was finally no longer having the nightmares, and he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Several hours later, the huntress screamed in Atreides’s ear. He opened his eyes and stared at the wild-eyed huntress who scooted back from him on the mattress and yanked the covers to her chin. She glowered at him as if he had taken advantage of her!