Hunger Untamed H3

by Dee Carney

  “We’re here,” Victor said.

  Great. Wherever here was. She hadn’t bothered to ask, caught up in her own concerns. Stubborn pride wanted to keep the fires of anger at Victor still stoked, and not speaking to him helped. Childish, maybe, but effective.

  She hated becoming a vampire. She loved being alive and well.

  Lucy studied the house where they’d pulled to a stop. A large ranch-style home with olive siding and gray trim parked in front of a flank of massive oak trees. The cobbled walkway stretched from the street to the front door. For Christ’s sake, there was even a white picket fence surrounding it on three sides.

  The family in the side yard triggered Lucy’s emotions as she watched them interact with each other. The woman, a pretty brunette with enviable curls, laughed as a tall man chased after a toddler who obviously planned on joining the Olympic track team. The little girl pumped her arms as her legs kicked out in the most awkward of ways. Lucy’s head tilted to the side as she realized the girl listed too, ensuring she’d end up on her ass before the man could catch her.

  “Who are they?” she asked, enthralled. She’d return to being angry later. Right now, her curiosity took over.

  “Corin Gerulaitis, a former vampire executioner.” Victor pushed open the door, as if his short response needed no further explanation. Which it did. Weren’t they supposed to be hiding from people exactly like him?

  The husband caught up to the girl, swinging her into the air where she began to kick and flail. Her face swelled into an outraged balloon of red until her father pulled her into a tight hug and began to blow raspberries on her belly. The girl squealed in protest, which turned into infectious giggling. Her father smiled down on her, the love on his face like a beacon. She had him wrapped around her little finger; he knew it and didn’t seem to care.

  Lucy smiled as she watched them, almost regretting that she and Victor needed to interrupt the idyllic scene.

  “Corin,” the woman called, a note of alarm ringing. She studied Victor and Lucy, hand at her throat.

  The man immediately swung his attention to the brunette and then, noticing the direction where she looked, moved it toward them. The transformation that overtook him was immediate and dramatic. He rushed the little girl to her mother, handing her off in seconds. His wife didn’t hesitate, tucking the girl into her arms and bolting with her into the safety of the house.

  Lucy held up a hand and try to assuage their startle. “Wait...sorry. We’re just here—”

  Corin scooped a packet from the ground. In a very practiced move, he removed two stakes from a sheath, letting the pocket flutter to the ground. His hands wrapped around the spikes in a grip that she knew would not be easily shaken. “Stay where you are.”

  She knew better than to contradict him, especially when he thought his family was in danger. She grabbed on to the back of Victor’s shirt when he would have moved forward without respecting the request. He glanced back at her, made a face but heeded her caution.

  “We’re only here to talk. I’d like to ask you a few things, please,” Victor said.

  Corin’s dispassionate gaze swept over them both. “How did you find us?”

  “A well-connected friend.”

  They stood at an impasse while Corin judged whether to let them come closer or to stake them both. As much as she admired Victor and all he’d taught her, she had a sinking feeling that a determined Corin might take them both down with a speed and efficiency that made the werewolves look like amateurs. That brush with death still echoed in her ears, so she’d like to avoid it as much as possible at this point, thank you very much. “You have a lovely family,” she said softly.

  “You’re newly transitioned.” He studied her even harder now.

  “Yes.” Victor had told her about the cinnamon scent, but she hadn’t considered just any old vampire could pick up on it. The realization was startling, especially as it made perfect sense. “That’s why we’re here,” Victor said. “I need to know about you and your wife. How you managed to escape from the Council without—”

  “An unauthorized turning, then. I see.” He shook his head. “Ours was an extraordinary set of circumstances. If you broke the law to create this one, then you’ve signed your own execution order. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing anyone can do for you or for her. Enjoy the time you have together until it comes to an end.”

  Stunned, Lucy could only blink at him and let his words sink in. He said it with such casual indifference as if discussing the color of Victor’s car or the state of the lawn. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing anyone can do for dandelions. Enjoy the time you have plucking them until it comes to an end. “What the fuck kind of messed-up response is that? You’re sorry?” She whirled on Victor. “Is this what you came here for, or did you come thinking that we’d get some help from someone like us? Mister, you’ve got a beautiful family, but I’m guessing that the Council would just as soon see it wiped out, am I right? Something changed their minds. You have to tell us what it was.”

  Corin looked toward Victor, his expression devoid of emotion. The utter lack of regard for their lives shuttled a chill through Lucy. “Take your progeny and go. You might have a month together before they come for you. Whatever you do, don’t return here or I’ll dispatch you myself.”

  Her cheeks flushed as if he’d slapped her instead of just dismissing them outright. They burned altogether when Corin turned his back on them, as if discounting them as a threat. They weren’t, but his manner reminded her so much of her time with the vampire elite. Somehow, she’d almost forgotten.

  “What do we do now?” she said to Victor. Her gaze wouldn’t leave Corin’s retreating back, some small part of her hoping he’d change his mind and turn around.

  “Focus on Sage, I guess. Get to him before they get to us.”

  Corin slowed but didn’t stop.

  “How? How do we isolate him again? The last time was chance and a whole lot of luck.”

  “I don’t know, doll. Let’s head home and I’ll see what I can find out. We’ll get to him before he gets us, I promise.”

  Reluctantly, Lucy nodded. She started to reach for Victor’s hand and had to catch herself. How easy it was to forget the change in their dynamic. Especially when she’d been used to turning to him for comfort. The next time she fed from him, it would all come crashing back, and her anger would be renewed all over again.

  By the time they got into the car, she chastised herself a few more times to help it set in. This was a partnership. Nothing more than a brokered deal.

  The sizzling heat he generated with a kiss collided into her. A visceral recollection she didn’t want.

  Her mind bombarded her with a memory of his face hovering above hers, the desire reflected back in his gaze.

  So much comfort in simply talking and laughing with him, the vampire mercenary.

  No. She would not fall in love with Victor. It wasn’t too late. She steeled her spine, demanding all emotion related to him to shed from her soul. Later, maybe later, she’d sort it all out.

  “Wait,” she said as he started up the car. She stared at the pretty house and reflected on the idyllic scene again. Even if Corin couldn’t feel sorry for them, maybe once he told his wife the story of why they’d come, she’d have some sway over him. They looked the type to discuss their days over dinner or as they curled up in bed that night. She could almost hear him explaining how he’d turned down helping another couple in need, a couple who were now in the same position they’d been in once upon a time. It made her wonder what kind of woman his wife was and whether she’d be as indifferent as her husband.

  All of Lucy’s hope said no.

  She popped open the glove compartment and rooted through some of the papers in there. “Any blank pages or napkins I can write on? And a pen?”

  “Both in there.”

  She located a small notepad and pen. After scribbling a note and Victor’s number on it, she jumped out of the car and left the page
in the mailbox. The worst that could happen would be Corin finding it and tossing it in the trash without a second thought.

  With any luck—she’d be crossing all fingers and toes—they’d get a phone call and an explanation. Probably not, but she needed something to cling to. She couldn’t believe the Council and its members, who hadn’t known her name a week ago, could cause so much chaos in their lives.

  She explained her thinking to Victor, who shrugged at her supposition. “It can’t hurt. Happy wife, happy life, right?”

  Although they’d driven to the house mostly in silence on the way up, the drive home seemed tenser. As if their failure signaled the start of something bad for their future, which it might have. Ever since the night at the bar when the werewolves had tried to kill them, nothing wanted to go their way. How had it all come down to this? Werewolves, more vampires, executioners...it didn’t seem real.

  Her eyes slipped closed, the hypnotic sway of the car soothing her nerves and mind.

  Lucy jerked awake to the sound of Victor’s voice. God, she hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep. She looked around and recognized the path to the house, which meant they were only minutes away. But why had they stopped?

  “It’s all about Sage, not the Council.” Victor was frowning as he held the phone to his ear. “He’s wanted for poisoning humans, the least of his crimes. There may be more, but I’m not at liberty to speak about it yet and honestly, I don’t have any evidence to support anything else.”

  Lucy frowned too, not certain who Victor might be sharing this news with. Although he’d promised to help her with Sage, so it made sense. They needed as many allies as possible in this to provide assistance. If nothing else, should they fail, maybe someone else would be able to take up the cause.

  “Questioning for now is all I know. What happens after that, I can’t say... Anything you can do. Anything.”

  Victor apparently disconnected the call, then placed the phone in the cup holder. He turned to Lucy and faced her with a shit-eating grin. “Someone’s changed their mind and used the phone number you left in the mailbox.”

  Lucy perked. “Oh my God. What did he say?”

  “Before morning, we should have Sage’s itinerary for the next day or two. Seems like Corin still has friends in high places, and there’s no love lost between him and Sage. We’ll know what he’s doing tomorrow night and can grab him then. This—all of this—is about to be over.”

  * * *

  By ten thirty the following night, Victor drove the Mustang at a breakneck speed. He whipped around other cars, cruising down I-95 at eighty-five miles per hour. His baby handled like a dream, eating up the concrete, the engine purring. If the state Troopers were out, they were either on a dinner break or couldn’t be bothered to catch up to him. Their presence would push him to go faster, anyway.

  Nothing was stopping them tonight.

  He glanced over to see how Lucy was handling the drive and found her staring ahead, hands gripping the seat, but face set in concentration. They’d spent hours going over the rudimentary plan, looking for holes and potential pitfalls. He’d hung back from the planning, allowing her to take lead. She needed this win.

  If things went his way, the werewolves would get what they wanted, but so would Lucy. Corin had been able to provide one night’s itinerary. No notice. Very little time to prepare.

  Lucy had burned several hours of daylight adjusting to her new vampire strength and speed, but Victor knew it wouldn’t be enough. Sage had been a vampire for hundreds of years before her. As Victor had always known, she was the underdog no matter how they looked at it. She couldn’t do this. It was why he’d have to betray her.

  “Having second thoughts?” he asked in a low voice. He didn’t want to break the mood, but they were minutes away from arriving.

  “Never. Just thinking about Cindy and how close I am to putting an end to all of this.”

  Taking the exit at a respectable sixty-two MPH, Victor glanced at the clock. Thirty-four minutes until their window of opportunity closed.

  “Between the two of us,” she said, “I know we’ll get it done.”

  Her hand went to his thigh, rubbing over it. Victor’s heart was kicking so hard though, he could barely feel her touch. All thought shut down, some instinct keeping him focused enough to follow the directions of the GPS. He’d been certain he’d lost her. The familiar gesture suggested otherwise. He didn’t dare hope for more, but it was all he had.

  He’d come along because he’d been left with no other choice. Without Lucy, he wouldn’t get close to Sage again. Without Sage, the werewolves would forever hunt him down. Now that he’d killed members of their pack, they’d at least be out for blood. Because of Lucy, the vampires would eventually want him marked for death too.

  There was no place left for them. Their options had slimmed down to none, one tick of the clock at a time. He was fucked and he’d dragged Lucy with him.

  “Your destination is on the right.”

  After turning into the parking lot, he studied the glass front of the building and spotted several security failures right away. This might be a little easier than he’d first thought.

  More than a dozen vendors had set up tents, spotlights illuminating the artwork on display. The artists stood near their wares, chatting with passersby and potential patrons. It looked like a typical bohemian scene until one realized how beautiful and ethereal the artists themselves were. Their creative works, paintings of fantasy and whimsy, seemed like decoration for the people instead of just goods to buy.

  “I can’t believe I’ve never been to one of these,” Lucy said. “I guess the crowd I hung with was a little too hoity-toity for a late-night art walk.”

  Victor ran his gaze over Lucy, who’d chosen a loose-fitting jumper with thin straps at her shoulders and a belt at her waist. The wrap she’d draped over it hid the holster at her back and the stakes strapped to her thighs. Although it would have appeared more natural if she’d been wearing low heels or maybe strappy sandals of some sort, the smart would-be assassin that she was, she’d chosen cowboy boots with steel tips. Her hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. Her makeup light with a smattering of color on her lips.

  Before they’d gone far, she’d captured the interest of one or two men. Maybe a woman, too. Victor made a point of putting his hand on the small of her back. Last thing they needed was a suitor interrupting their plans.

  “Figures Sage would make himself the host of something like this.” True to character, he needed to be surrounded by pulchritude. He lowered his voice before they’d ventured too close to the others. “He’ll have guards close by. Let’s figure out who they are, then figure out how to separate them.”

  Lucy drew a deep breath, a habit she’d abandon sooner or later. She’d missed out on the sexual oblivion of transition, having been unconscious for most of it, but he hoped she’d forgive him enough to let him show her the luxury of being a vampire. How wondrous it could really be.

  Oh, fuck.

  Victor grabbed her hand, pulling her from the doors leading them inside the gallery. Despite her small noises of protest, he dragged her away from the vampires milling inside and toward more of the outdoor vendors. He scanned their wares as they went by at speed that would no doubt catch people’s attention, but probably not more than Lucy’s scent would.

  At last, he spotted what he needed. “Pick something and smother it on. A lot.”

  “What? What are they?”

  Lotions, from what he could tell. Homemade, organic shit that would have questionable side effects on anyone prone to allergic reactions. “Smelly is what they are.”

  Lucy stared at him.

  “Burning night, doll. Pick something and put it on. We need it to cover the last of that cinnamon coming from you or we’ll attract way more attention than we want or need right now. Got it?”

  Victor slapped a twenty on the table while Lucy donned the last of her disguise for the evening. He studied her one las
t time and felt safe in believing they’d covered all the bases. Whatever happened next would be a little bit of skill and a whole lot of luck coming out to play.

  Once the transaction ended, he held out his hand, pleased when she took it. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  They strolled through the gallery, pausing long enough to seem interested in the featured artist of the night. From Victor’s understanding, Sage owned the place, allowing the vampire community to host this monthly function meant for the more cultured. He didn’t always make an appearance himself, but if Corin’s notes were accurate, he’d be here tonight.

  Lucy squeezed his hand ever so gently. Surrounded by so many with superior hearing, he didn’t dare ask her the matter, but glanced at her face. She slid her gaze toward a back corner of the room and then back to Victor, subtly directing him.

  And there he was. Twin A or B from not too long ago tucked into a corner. He stood with his back to a painting, his focus sweeping over the patrons in the room. The way he ignored the artistry around him, content to people watch, made him stand out from the others. But Victor was very glad to see him. It meant he and Lucy knew what they faced. It meant the other twin would be somewhere close by. It meant Sage waited even closer.

  “I want to see this one,” Lucy said in a soft voice. She moved away from Victor, their hands disconnecting at the last second. She hadn’t said she wanted him next to her and for now, he would follow her lead.

  There weren’t a lot of people in the room, but he kept a clear line of sight to her at all times. She only had to look in his direction and he’d be by her side, guns and stakes drawn.

  Lucy tucked the ends of the wrap into itself as she walked. She knew something Victor didn’t. Her focused gaze stayed ahead of her, ignoring the people in her path, the people behind her. Ignoring Victor. He did what a good backup should, following her close, keeping an eye out for the missing twin guard. His heart thumped a steady beat, the music in the room not loud enough to drown its persistent thumps.