Consumed: The Vampire Awakenings, Book 8

by Davies, Brenda K.

  Lacey Gordon.

  Most Kills; 3.

  2017.

  When Mollie moved on to the next set of trophies, she realized they’d each been awarded for the same things, but the number on the most kills trophy differed. The heads clutched in the hands of the figures on the most kills trophies also varied to match the number of their kills.

  From her cursory search, she discovered the name “Raul Mrack” on half a dozen of the most kills trophies, and he also held the record at ten. For the ten trophy, five heads dangled from his raised hand and five from his lowered one. Raul’s name also appeared on three of the final kill trophies. Some other names also popped up a few times, but most were one and done.

  Mollie glanced between the heads on the wall and the trophies. “I bet the heads belong to the victims of the final kill. They were the vampires and humans who proved to be the most elusive every year but were eventually killed.”

  “Most likely,” Mike said as he examined the room.

  There were no windows in the room. Brown leather chairs were set into the corners of the room and clustered around small tables. Each table held an ashtray, and more than a few ashtrays had the remains of cigars in them. There were five tables in the room with four chairs around each one.

  To the right of the heads, the entire wall was made up of a bar with at least twenty stools set up before it. The mirror behind the bar reflected not only the expensive liquor lined up against the glass, but also all the trophies in the room and the heads.

  Disgust churned in Mike’s stomach when he realized this was where most of the demented pricks spent their time.

  “I was wrong,” Mollie murmured. “We haven’t stumbled onto The Island of Doctor Moreau, they’ve turned this island into The Most Dangerous Game.”

  “Holy shit,” Doug whispered as his eyes darted around the room.

  Mike vaguely recalled the story from high school English, but he knew it involved a man hunting humans because he’d grown bored with killing animals.

  “This is nothing but a game to them, a yearly game, and we’re the prey,” Mollie breathed, her lower lip quivering.

  Mike draped his arm around her shoulders and drew her against his side. “They will not get you.”

  Mollie wanted to believe his words, but they’d been plunged into a nightmare, and she had no idea how they were going to get out of it.

  “Our escape threw a wrench in their plans,” Doug said. “But not much of one.”

  “But why do they starve some of their victims before turning them loose?” Mollie asked. “There’s no challenge in hunting someone who can barely get out of their own way.”

  “I bet the vamps who participate in this little game pay big money to do so, but not all of them are as good at hunting as some of the others,” Mike said. “They may not be as skilled, but they’re still here to kill, and if they don’t get their kill—”

  “They’ll demand their money back and spread the word that this hunt isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Doug said.

  “Yes,” Mike agreed, and Mollie paled.

  “The more skilled hunters probably leave at least some of the weakened vamps and humans for the novices, while they chase the bigger thrill of the more lethal game,” Mollie said.

  “Most likely,” Mike replied.

  “But why, if they’re Savages and already killing, would they pay big money to come here to do what they already do?” Mollie asked.

  “Because they can really unleash their viciousness on this island. Humans can never know of our existence, and the Savages don’t want to draw attention to themselves, so they have to cover their tracks when they kill,” Mike answered. “But here, the Savages don’t have to cover their tracks, can do whatever they want, and be as brutal as they wish with whoever they catch.”

  Mollie held her hand over her mouth as she fought the wave of vomit rolling up her throat. “We have to get off this island,” she choked out.

  “We will,” Mike said.

  Mollie’s gaze fell on the jars again, but she didn’t go any closer. After everything she’d learned, she suspected the writing on them would match the years of the heads on the walls, and the contents were more trophies from the elusive kills mounted to the wall.

  “And there’s a memorial wall,” Doug said.

  Mollie hadn’t realized it, but he’d roamed over to stand by the wall closest to the door. Mike and Mollie walked over to join him. Staring over his shoulder, Mollie read the bronze plaque. At the top of the memorial were the words, “In honor of those brave souls lost in the hunt.”

  Below the inscription were names, and after every name was some little saying like, he fought hard, or she was a brave soul, and a hunter until the end.

  The disbelief and anger coiling through Mollie threatened to choke her. How hard could he have fought while hunting the starved? And how brave could she have been to pay money to destroy captives? How much of a hunter could he have been, if he lost?

  She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, but she couldn’t find any humor in this vile room.

  “Why would they put this here?” she asked. “Wouldn’t they be afraid that broadcasting those they’d lost would scare off potential clients?”

  “It might scare off some, but it will entice those looking for a bigger thrill. This is proof the game is real,” Mike said.

  Mollie hugged herself. “It’s time to get out of this room.”

  Doug had already walked over to the door and had his hand resting on the knob. When Mike nodded to him, Doug cracked the door open and poked his head out before exiting the room.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  They searched the rest of the downstairs before making their way upstairs. With the length of the wings, it could take them over an hour to search the upstairs, but they agreed not to split up and to hold off on exploring the third floor.

  Halfway through searching the right wing, Mike was closing the door on another bedroom when the door to a room three doors away opened and a human stepped out. The man had a set of white sheets draped over his arm, and his head down as he maneuvered a cart out the door before closing it.

  Lifting his head, the human jumped when he spotted them, but then a broad smile lit his face. Bite marks marred his throat and wrists, but healthy color stained his cheeks, and he didn’t move as if he’d been fed on too much. The man’s butler uniform was crisply ironed and well-tailored to fit his lean frame.

  “Back from the hunt so soon my lords and lady?” the man inquired in a formal tone better suited to a queen’s parlor than their current surroundings.

  The man’s smile faded when they didn’t reply, and he stared expectantly at them.

  “I left something behind,” Mike said.

  The man’s smile blazed back to life. “I will be happy to retrieve it for you, my lord, if you’ll let me know which suite you’re in.”

  “No need,” Mike replied as he strode toward the man. The wheels on the cart rattled down the maroon carpet when Mike shoved it out of his way. The man didn’t have a chance to react before Mike clasped his throat and pulled him close. “I’ve retrieved it myself.”

  “Pardon me, my lord,” the man squeaked as he squirmed in Mike’s grasp.

  “We’re not part of the hunt,” Mike informed him with a smile that revealed his fangs.

  The man went still, and the color drained from his face so fast Mike assumed he might faint. When the beginnings of a scream started to erupt from him, Mike dug his fingers in and squelched the sound. The man sputtered as the sheets fell from his grasp and his arms and legs flailed.

  “Easy,” Mike said. “We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here for answers.”

  The man calmed a little, but his breath whistled in and out as his face turned redder.

  “I’m going to ease my grip, but if you try to scream again, I’ll snap your spine and take away your ability to walk. Do you understand?”

  “Ehh,” the man squeaked out and
nodded the best he could.

  Mike eased his grip and maneuvered the man to pin him against the wall. “What’s your name?”

  “Sc-Sc-Scott,” he choked out before greedily gulping in air.

  “Tell me, Scott, are there any other vampires in this house right now?” Mike inquired. “And tell me the truth, because if I find out you’re lying, I will make you regret it for the rest of the very short life I’ll grant you. But if you tell me the truth, we can part as friends, and you can continue on your merry, bed-changing way.”

  “I… I don’t think there are any other vampires here,” Scott stammered. “As far as I know, they’re all out for the hunt.”

  “When will they come back?”

  Scott’s Adam’s apple bobbed beneath his hand. “Most won’t return until just before sunrise, but others will come sooner, and some will find places to hide so they can stay out all day.”

  “So it is a hunt,” Mollie whispered as she gazed at the handsome man with his reddish-brown hair and green eyes. She’d already believed it was a hunt, but to hear Scott confirm it made it all the more real.

  “Yes,” Scott said.

  “Did our escape throw it off?” Mollie asked.

  “You’re part of the escapees?” Scott croaked.

  “Yes,” Mike answered.

  Scott’s pulse skyrocketed against his palm. “They… they were pissed when that happened. I thought they were going to call the hunt off, but instead, they spun it to the others as a special pre-hunt to reward their clients. It’s worked so well that I’ve heard whispers it might become an annual thing.”

  The more Mollie learned about the monsters behind all this, the more she despised them.

  “They had to go out and catch more for the big hunt, and they recaptured some of the escapees, but they were able to get the number of captives back up in time to start the hunt tonight,” Scott continued.

  “And what number is that?” Doug asked.

  “There has to be a minimum of seventy-five captives for the hunt, but they prefer at least a hundred. I don’t know how many they gathered this year.”

  “Bastards,” Mollie muttered.

  “And how many hunters do they have in the competition?” Mike inquired.

  “This year there are twenty-five, but that number varies from year to year,” Scott said.

  “And how many security guards are on the island?”

  “I don’t know. Ten work the house and barn, but there are others on the island that I’ve never seen; I only know they exist because I’ve overheard the others talking about them.”

  Mike believed him when he said he didn’t know. Scott was scared, and his pulse was racing, but he held Mike’s eyes and didn’t appear to be trying to think of lies before answering. For a human, he knew a lot about the workings of this house, but the Savages probably paid little attention to him and spoke about things when they didn’t realize he was listening.

  “And where are the guards now?” Doug asked.

  “They went out with the hunters who requested to have security with them,” Scott said.

  Mollie released a bitter laugh. “So not only are they so cowardly they hunt the weak, but they also have guards with them? This place is horrific.”

  Doug reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder before glancing at Mike and jerking his hand away. Mike hadn’t realized he’d tensed at Doug’s motion until Scott squeaked. It’s only Doug. He would never hurt her.

  But it didn’t matter; he’d been unable to stop the rage boiling within him at the idea of any other man touching her. Mollie’s eyebrows rose as she gazed at him before she clasped his free hand and gave it a brief squeeze before releasing it. Taking a steadying breath, Mike eased his grip on Scott’s throat.

  “Are there any other humans in this house?” Mike inquired.

  “Yes,” Scott said.

  Mollie’s breath sucked in, and Scott’s eyes flickered to her. Hope burst so forcefully through her that for a minute she couldn’t speak. “Are they alive?” she finally demanded.

  “Yes,” Scott replied.

  “Where are they?” Doug asked.

  “The basement.”

  “Take us to them,” Mike commanded.

  Scott gulped again. “Yes. Okay, follow me.”

  Mike eased his grip on him enough to slide his hand around to Scott’s nape. It didn’t matter if he was telling the truth or not; the fact Scott had been wandering the house on his own didn’t win him any trust points with Mike.

  “Why didn’t you run from here when they went out to hunt?” Mollie asked as they strode down the hall toward the stairs.

  “And become one of the hunted?” Scott retorted.

  “What are you then, a servant?”

  “I am whatever they need me to be,” Scott murmured.

  “They’ll kill you one day,” Mike assured him.

  “Perhaps, but I’ve already lived longer than the rest of the humans who come through here.”

  “Don’t you want to leave?” Mollie asked.

  “Of course,” Scott replied. “But I’d never get far before they chased me down and killed me like so many others. Except, to punish me, they’d play with me for a lot longer than they do the others.”

  Mollie didn’t want to think about what that kind of play would entail; the heads were answer enough to that. “So this is all just a game to them?” Mollie asked as they descended the stairs to the massive living room.

  Scott shrugged as he led them back to the hallway they’d already searched. “To some, it’s a game; to others, it’s a lifestyle.”

  “How does it all work? Do they only hunt people and vampires once a year?”

  “No,” Scott answered. “The big event, what is happening now, is the only time of the year when vampires outside the club come in to hunt too.”

  “There’s a club?” Doug asked in disbelief.

  “Yes. The ten members of the club reside here year-round, though they often return to the mainland for weeks at a time. Sometimes, they bring back sport to hunt during the year, but they usually wait for the big event.”

  “And by sport, you mean humans and vampires?” Mollie asked, sickened by his choice of word.

  “Yes,” Scott said, seeming not to realize he was talking about living beings.

  “Let me guess, the president of this club”—Mollie fairly spat the word—“is Raul Mrack?”

  “How did you know?” Scott inquired.

  “Lucky guess,” she muttered.

  “And why does the club bring other vamps in for this big hunt?” Mike asked.

  “Why else? Money and competition,” Scott replied.

  “How long does the hunt last?” Doug asked.

  “It depends,” Scott said. “One year it was only three days before they caught everyone, but last year it went for twelve days. The game’s not over until everyone is dead.”

  “It’s not a game!” Mollie couldn’t stop herself from retorting. When Mike glanced back at her, she took a deep breath to calm herself. Losing control now and getting angry wouldn’t do any of them any good.

  “How long have you been taking care of the vampires who stay here year-round?” Doug asked.

  “Five years,” Scott replied.

  They’d kept him alive for five years! Did that mean Aida was alive? Mollie felt like a kid waking up on Christmas morning, and she barely contained herself from grabbing Scott and forcing him to run to wherever this basement was.

  “How old are you?” Mike asked.

  “Twenty-three.”

  They’d turned him into a servant when he was eighteen; Aida was only eighteen! Mollie tried not to get too far ahead of herself. She couldn’t handle it if she got her hopes high just to have them crushed, but for the first time, she truly believed her sister was alive.

  “If you could leave, would you?” Mollie asked.

  “Of course!” Scott blurted.

  Despite his enthusiastic reply, Mike didn’t buy Scott’s
answer. He’d been with these vamps for five years, they fed off him and allowed him to live. There was loyalty here.

  “You could come with us when we leave,” Mollie offered, and Mike shot her a look she decided to ignore. She didn’t want to leave anyone behind in this hellhole.

  “I would love that!” Scott gushed.

  Scott stopped outside the door to what Mike recalled was a small library. Earlier, he hadn’t gone inside to explore further, but he’d seen nothing out of the ordinary with it. Scott opened the door and entered the room with Mike on his heels. The scent of old books filled his nose before Scott turned on a switch.

  Mike hissed in a breath when light flooded the room. “Turn it off.”

  “It’s fine,” Scott replied. “They expect me to move about the house while they’re away.”

  Mike’s eyes narrowed at him before he glanced at Doug as he crept over to study a map hanging in a frame on the wall.

  “I’ll be damned,” Doug muttered and pulled it down. Flipping the frame over, he undid the latches and removed the parchment from the glass casing. He set the frame against the wall, rolled up the map, and slid it into the waistband of his jeans. “It’s a map of the island,” he said to Mike. “And there’s a boat ramp marked on it.”

  “Thank God,” Mollie muttered.

  “Do you know where the ramp is?” Mike asked Scott.

  “No,” he said. “I’ve seen the map before, but I haven’t left this house since the day after they captured me.”

  Sympathy tugged at Mollie’s heart, and she almost squeezed Scott’s arm before recalling Mike’s reaction to Doug nearly touching her earlier.

  “How sad,” Mollie murmured.

  “Where is this basement?” Mike demanded.

  “It’s hidden.” Scott stopped in front of one of the floor-to-ceiling bookcases lining three walls of the room. He ran his hand over the shelves, some of the books, and assorted antiques, before settling on a crystal cat perched in front of a book on taxidermy.

  A piercing scream from somewhere nearby drew Mike’s attention to the thick, black curtains covering the windows. Doug pushed back a corner of one of the drapes and peered out as the scream rose in pitch.