A Vampire's Hunger

by Carla Susan Smith

  She was secretly thrilled when he told her she might be going to St. Petersburg.

  “The choice is yours,” Vladimir told her. “You cannot be compelled to do this, and no one will think the less of you if you refuse.”

  Curiosity already had her saying yes. “What is it I’m being asked to do?”

  A voice spoke from the shadows. A low rumble that ignited an unexpected flame deep inside her. Turning, Katja stared at the white-haired vampire who stepped out from the shadows toward her.

  “I have a recently turned vampire in my care,” he said, “who is in need of assistance I cannot provide.”

  Katja felt her pulse quicken and her heart pound in her chest as her fangs dropped. The newcomer’s only response was to give a self-deprecating smile, as if her reaction was an all too familiar one. And perhaps it was, but it didn’t change the fact that he needed something from her.

  Vladimir’s voice next to her ear was a rude reminder she wasn’t alone with the vampire demigod. “Katja . . . this is Gabriel.”

  She nodded and, although her insides had been rearranged by some unknown hand, managed to gather her heavy skirts in both hands to execute a flawless curtsey.

  “The vampire in your care”—she favored Gabriel with her most brilliant smile—“who turned him?”

  Finding her question both brazen and disrespectful, Vladimir dropped his fangs with a hiss. Katja had no idea why he would be so upset, especially when Gabriel seemed more amused than offended by her boldness.

  “It’s all right, Vladimir,” he chuckled richly, “she has the right to ask.” Neon-blue eyes, dazzling in their intensity, looked at her from behind thick lashes. “He was turned by me.”

  So this was another Original Vampire. My God, he was magnificent!

  “What do you need me to do?”

  Taking her by the hand, Gabriel led her to a seat across the room. “As I said, the vampire under my care is recently turned. He is still trying to master control over what it means to be a vampire.”

  “And what aspect is he having difficulty with?”

  “Lust.” The look Gabriel gave her said he appreciated her candor in getting to the heart of the matter. “He accidentally took a life and is filled with remorse. Reconciling himself to the incident is difficult for him, although I am confident he will find a way to put it in its proper perspective. Killing is, after all, part of being a vampire, and though regrettable, it is a mistake we have all made at some time or another.”

  Katja glanced at Vladimir to see him nod in agreement with Gabriel’s words. She quickly looked away. For all the humans she had killed, and there had been many, she hadn’t felt the slightest remorse. Of course, none of those deaths had been accidental, so perhaps that was the difference. Fixing her gaze on the Original Vampire, she noticed his brows pulled together in concern.

  “He shows great potential as a vampire,” he continued, “but without control . . .” There was no need for him to finish his sentence. A vampire who could not exercise control over his needs, both physical and emotional, was a danger to both himself and the entire vampire community. There would be no choice but to put him down, and make sure he could not rise again.

  Resting her chin on her hand, Katja looked thoughtful. “Surely St. Petersburg can provide the necessary experience to benefit your protégé. Could he not avail himself of the city’s whores?” Arching a brow, she smiled with womanly confidence. “Might I suggest perhaps more than one at the same time?”

  “Your suggestion has merit, but those women are all human, and he is fearful that when he feeds again he will take another life.”

  “But how can that be?” She ignored Vladimir’s hiss from across the room. Apparently one did not question an Original Vampire. “Copulation beforehand will always lessen the ferocity of a feeding.”

  “Unless you’re a virgin.”

  Katja’s mouth fell open in stunned surprise. She had never known a vampire who was a virgin. Of course she’d heard the rumors; they’d all heard the rumors. The loss of a vampire’s virginity was so intense no human could survive the experience. If the feeding didn’t kill them, the fucking would. She had always thought such tales to be nothing more than the fanciful musings of bored vampires, but in light of Gabriel’s statement, she might reconsider her opinion. Only, if such stories were true, who cared about a few dead whores if it helped to deflower a newly made vampire? A glance from beneath her lashes suggested at least two other vampires who did.

  “Are you sure he’s a virgin?”

  “Katja!” Vladimir’s outrage was unmistakable.

  “Yes,” Gabriel assured her, calming her father with a wave of his hand. “He has never been with a woman.”

  “And you want me to be his first?”

  “I would do it myself, but I’m the wrong gender.”

  “I didn’t think such a notion was possible.”

  Across the room Vladimir had an apoplectic fit.

  Gender had never been a primary requirement for most vampires when it came to sex. The ability to achieve orgasm was the primary goal. By what manner, and with whom, was usually no more than a secondary concern.

  “My protégé shows no inclination toward his own sex.” Gabriel shrugged at the querying look on Katja’s face. “It happens sometimes, and I take no offense at his preference. His initiation into the pleasures of the bedchamber would be preferable without the possibility of his killing his teacher in the process. For that I need an experienced vampire. A female vampire.”

  “Of course,” she murmured, lowering her eyes.

  “The choice is still yours,” Vladimir reminded her. “You can always refuse.” But he knew she would not. He could already see the seed of her infatuation with Gabriel taking root. Had she shown a similar passion for her own maker, Vladimir would not have been concerned. It was to be expected, but to be so deeply obsessed with an Original she had no bond with was . . . troubling.

  “What will you do if your vampire becomes attached to me? It can happen.”

  “I would welcome your presence in my household, for as long as it lasts,” Gabriel told her with a dazzling display of fangs.

  It was the answer she wanted to hear. In order to stay close to Gabriel, she fully intended to convince this new vampire his cock would fall off if he so much as allowed anyone else to even look at it. Three days later, she left for St. Petersburg. She did not say good-bye to Vladimir.

  All the servants in Gabriel’s house treated Katja like a great lady, with the exception of Tomas. His attitude toward her was one of polite indifference, but as he was never overtly rude or deliberately hostile, she had nothing to complain of. On the third night after her arrival, she was shown into a sumptuous bedroom where a newly made vampire named Aleksei waited for her. He was nervous, but also handsome and well-muscled, and Katja decided she much preferred the smell of hay and horses to goat piss. Four nights later she emerged, leaving in her wake one exhausted, but extremely satisfied vampire.

  When Gabriel came to her later, to offer his gratitude as she rested, curiosity got the better of her. “What made you choose me?”

  “I didn’t,” he admitted candidly. “It was Ryiel’s suggestion. He thought you would be amenable.”

  It was stupid, but for some reason Katja had convinced herself Gabriel had sought her out of his own accord. Learning he knew nothing of her existence until her maker told him stung more than her pride. She turned her head away from him so he would not see the telltale brightness in her eyes. But she wasn’t quick enough. Realizing his error, Gabriel took her in his arms, holding her to him as she wept silent tears.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I assumed you already knew what was expected before we met. I thought your questions were for Vladimir’s sake. I didn’t realize they were for yours.” He tilted her head up and gently wiped her wet cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “It was wrong of Ryiel not to have told you. I will speak to him—”

  “No, you must not!” she pro
tested. “He is my maker. It is not my place to question how he uses me.” She gave him a feeble poke in the chest. “Or yours either.”

  Gabriel clearly did not comprehend the relationship between Katja and her maker, but he decided to abide by her wishes and stay silent on the matter.

  “As you wish.” He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead “But it would not hurt to remind him what century it is. Common courtesies are not only observed, but expected.” Staring up at him, Katja fell even more in love with him.

  Now, after all this time, she could still feel the softness of his lips against her skin. It reminded her how cruel and unfair the hand of fate could be. How different her life would have been if only Gabriel had been the one to turn her. With their shared connection, he might never have felt the need to seek out his Promise. After all, in five hundred years Ryiel had never expressed a desire to find his. She sighed. The game of what if was an old one, ending always in stalemate.

  “A beautiful woman should never look so sad.”

  Katja whipped her head around at the unfamiliar voice. A vampire was leaning in the open doorway, looking at her. Narrowing her eyes, she stared at him. He was bathed in silver from the rising moon behind him, and the arrogant smile on his face told her to take as long as she needed to examine him. He stared back, showing Katja the palest green eyes she had ever seen.

  Chapter 10

  “Perhaps I have good reason to be sad,” Katja said, wondering who the vampire was, and if his timing was more than a little fortuitous. She doubted he was here to see Stavros, so whatever business he had must be with Ryiel. And that made her cautious, because Ryiel never conducted business from his home.

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” the vampire asked, making the smile a little less arrogant and a little warmer.

  His voice was smooth and melodic, with a hint of an accent. Somewhere from the Southern Hemisphere, Katja told herself, and while the voice did not have the same effect as Gabriel’s, it nevertheless stirred something inside her.

  “This is the home of a vampire, you need no invitation”—she paused, showing the tips of her fangs—“but I suspect you already know that.”

  She was not some naïve, newly made vampire. Did he imagine she couldn’t tell what he was?

  With a slight shake of his head, the vampire stepped over the threshold. “I was trying to be polite and not make assumptions.”

  Really, about what?

  As he came farther into the kitchen, Katja was surprised to see there was nothing silver about him at all. It had merely been a trick of the light reflecting off the pale gray clothing he wore. She watched as he slipped out of the long duster he was wearing, letting it fall to the floor behind him. Apparently he liked gray. Everything he wore was a varying hue of the same color. Katja pursed her lips. Although she wouldn’t be caught dead in such an insipid shade, she had to admit it was a perfect complement for his pale eyes and shocking blue hair.

  The sleeves of his silk shirt were rolled back to above the elbow, and her eyes opened wide as she saw the markings tattooed on the inside of his forearms. The resemblance to the glyphs on Ryiel’s chest was uncanny. Although all vampires had a visceral connection to the Original who sired them, many had no memory of any physical traits. A hazy recollection of eyes and fangs was, at best, all that was remembered. Katja had a superior advantage in being on a first-name basis with two Original Vampires. Now it would appear she was going to meet a third. Perhaps fate was trying to make up for giving her Ryiel as her maker.

  “Versace?” She gestured to the pants and silk shirt the vampire wore.

  “You know your designers. Can’t say I’m familiar with yours, although I do find the camouflage print intriguing.”

  She gave a hollow laugh. “Not my choice, and you don’t strike me as the type of guy who’s ever heard of Pro Bass Outfitters.”

  “And what is your choice?”

  Her look turned wistful. “I’ve always had a weakness for Valentino.”

  “He does know how to dress a woman, especially a beautiful one. I’m sure you would look stunning in anything from his latest collection.”

  Katja couldn’t decide if he was being polite or if his flirtatious behavior was deliberate. She decided she didn’t care. It had been too long since someone had last paid her a compliment. “Well, I don’t think I’m going to have the chance to follow up on that anytime soon.”

  “What if I told you it was possible?”

  The denial she was about to make was cut off by a piercing howl that filled the night air. It reminded Katja where Ryiel was, and suddenly she wasn’t sure if being alone with this unknown Original Vampire was such a good idea.

  “If I wanted to kill you, it would have already happened,” he said, correctly interpreting the change of expression on her face.

  He was bigger, stronger, and faster than she was, and she did not doubt him for a moment. Tilting her head toward the still-open door, and as the dying howl carried on the wind, she asked, “Is that your doing?”

  “What if it is?”

  “I’m curious. Do you mean to kill them all?”

  “Of course.”

  “But . . . why?”

  “I’m conducting an experiment.”

  Katja stared at him, nonplussed. “What kind of experiment?”

  “A secret one.” He leaned insolently against the wall. “Do you know how amazing it is, in this era of instant communication, to come across humans the rest of the world knows nothing about?”

  “And that is important why?” Katja asked. “In case your experiment fails?”

  He laughed. “I have every confidence that won’t happen.”

  It was obvious he wasn’t going to tell her anything more, and she still couldn’t decide if he was being truthful or simply playing with her. But why would he? What did he hope to gain from it? Another howl crested the mountainside, only this time it was abruptly cut off in mid-shriek.

  “Ah . . . it would seem your maker has come across one of my test subjects.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it went well,” Katja observed. “I don’t think he’ll be reporting back to you.”

  “But I don’t expect any of them to report back to me.” Mainly because he assumed Ryiel would kill all of them. “It isn’t part of this particular test.”

  “So how many vampires did you let loose in the valley?”

  “No more than a score.” Seeing the slight furrow in Katja’s forehead, he asked, “What are you trying to figure out?”

  “How long it would take less than twenty vampires to decimate a population of a thousand humans.”

  “My, my, beauty and brains. I knew I was going to like you. So tell me, is Ryiel still burying his nose in those ancient scrolls he rescued from the library?” He held up a hand. “You don’t have to answer; I can still smell the smoke.” He came toward her and took a lock of her hair, corkscrewing it around his finger. “But what brought you to this godforsaken place? You don’t strike me as the scholarly type.”

  Being all-powerful did not equate to being all-knowing.

  “I’m being punished,” Katja told him, deciding it was pointless to lie.

  Pale green eyes darkened with curious excitement. The finger twisting her hair halted in mid-curl. “You must have done something pretty awful to earn a front-row seat for this particular brand of purgatory.”

  He dropped the lock of hair from his fingers and cupped her cheek with his hand. To Katja it seemed as if centuries had passed since she had last been offered comfort in any form. Impulsively, she leaned into him, thinking how wonderful it was to be caressed by someone who didn’t smell of boiled beets or cabbage.

  “I tried to kill a Promise,” she murmured.

  His chuckle was a deep rumble that seemed to reach the rafters of the ceiling high above them. “So the rumors about Ryiel’s Promise are true? She is so beautiful she fills the heart of every other female with jealousy?”

  Katja tilted her head ba
ck and looked up at him, her amethyst eyes sparkling with puzzlement. “I know nothing about Ryiel’s Promise. As far as I know, she remains hidden, and he has not sought her out. The Promise I tried to kill belonged to another.”

  He placed a finger beneath her chin so she could not look away. “Who?”

  “Gabriel.”

  “What a shame you didn’t succeed. You would have done us all a favor.”

  A ribbon of excitement unfurled inside Katja. “You know who she is?”

  “We’ve met—quite recently, in fact—although I must admit I wasn’t impressed.” He gave her a chilling smile before continuing. “A word of advice? The next time you get the chance, make sure you finish her off.”

  Katja’s amethyst eyes looked startled. Did he have any idea what he was saying? “You’re giving me permission to take the life of a Promise,” she murmured.

  His fingers resumed playing with the lock of her hair. “What do I care? Take her life or not, it’s all the same to me. Personally I think Promises are overrated. I know mine was, and I’ve yet to see how no longer having one has put me at a disadvantage.”

  Katja frowned. “I thought each Original Vampire was given a Promise.”

  “They are, or rather they were. But no one said we had to keep them.” Katja wasn’t sure what to say, or if she was expected to say anything at all. “So,” he tugged on the lock of hair around his finger, “do you want to stay here, isolated from the rest of the world, or would you like to come with me?”

  Now it was Katja’s turn to release her hair from around the vampire’s finger, after which she took a few steps back. Perhaps he had never kept a vampire prisoner and thus did not comprehend the limitations involved.