Witch's Hunger

by Deborah LeBlanc

  “You will.”

  “Yeah, right,” Viv said and moored the ferry on the city-side dock.

  Nikoli stepped off the ferry, took the key fob to the black Camaro he’d rented at the airport out of his pocket and pressed the unlock button. The car beeped a welcome just as Viv stepped off the ferry. She marched past him and the car, never looking back once.

  “Viv, where are you going?” Nikoli asked. “The car’s here.”

  “I don’t need your damn car. I’m walking home,” she said. “Have a safe flight.”

  Nikoli forced himself to remain in place. He wanted to run after her and shake the hardheadedness out of her. Viv only thought she had a bad incident at the compound. She had no idea as to what lay ahead.

  As he watched her pace quicken to a stoic march, Nikoli realized just how much trouble he’d walked into. If he didn’t get his head out of his ass where Vivienne François was concerned, they very well might all end up dead.

  * * *

  By the time Viv reached home, it was late. Gilly had left a note for her, stating all was well with her Chenilles and she was headed to Snaps to make certain her managers were in place. Evidently, Evee had other matters to tend to as well because when Viv walked through the house, she found it empty.

  With exhaustion seeping through every bone in her body, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for the solitude.

  Viv climbed the stairs slowly, aching with every step and feeling sorry for herself. She really had no business being responsible for anything, much less having the powers of a Triad. The last thing she should be doing was managing others. Hell, she couldn’t even manage her own mouth. What was she doing with the responsibility of an entire breed that depended on her for food, direction and safety?

  When she reached the bathroom within her master suite, she washed up quickly, trying not to think about all the blood and bodies she’d had to incinerate earlier.

  It was impossible. When she looked in the mirror, all Viv saw was the person who let down her Loups.

  Her poor Whiskers. She’d seen the fear that death had locked in her Loup’s eyes. How her beautiful Loup must have pleaded for help. The scene played over and over in Viv’s head—Whiskers—Moose, so much innocence in a massive body. Her heart broke. She’d miss them all—so very much.

  Trying to stanch her tears, Viv pushed away from the sink. Tears wouldn’t help her Loups now.

  She made her way into her bedroom and stretched out on the chaise near her bed. A fierce headache throbbed behind her eyes from all her crying. It felt like the frontal lobe of her brain had split wide open. Viv closed her eyes.

  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get the images of the dead Loups out of her head. Nor the fact that the binding and calming spells she’d attempted on Warden and Milan had bombed. Something she still couldn’t understand. She had cast those spells a thousand times before, and neither had ever failed.

  Of course, this was the first time she’d been confronted with two alphas from different packs fighting over a strong alpha female in heat. Still, the spells should have worked, and her clairvoyant abilities should’ve warned her about the attack.

  The explanation Evee had offered regarding her spells and the sexual energy being strong enough to override a Triad’s spell didn’t sit right with her. She needed to see the Elders. They might have some answers to help make sense of it all.

  Suddenly, Viv felt something jump onto the chaise beside her right hip. Startled, her eyes flew open, and she saw Socrates snuggling up next to her. He pressed his body close to hers without a word, as if to assure her that she wasn’t truly alone. She laid a hand on his head and softly thumbed his fur.

  Rolling hillsides, meadows free,

  I summon your energy to comfort me.

  Lazy river, soothing sea,

  I summon your energy to quiet me.

  Licking flames and warmth of fire—

  Before Viv had a chance to finish her spell, her eyes, heavy and burning from exhaustion, closed against the deep ache in her head. Sleep soon caught her unawares, and she allowed herself to fall into the sweet blissful darkness of it. A clean, blank slate.

  It was an illusion of course, just like the ones Evee knew how to conjure with a small wave of her hand and a short list of words. The only time a person truly held a blank slate was at birth. And even then, Viv had been screwed out of that deal. Being born a Triad, she carried a curse that had followed each triplet born into the Circle of Sisters for the past thirty generations.

  She moved her hip closer to Socrates and thought of Nikoli. The worry in his eyes, the firmness of his jaw, the size and feel of his hands when he’d caught her after she’d stumbled when they first met.

  Unable to shake the thought, Viv drifted off to sleep, bringing Nikoli with her.

  Chapter 8

  He loved it when a plan came together, especially one that hadn’t necessarily started out as a plan. Once it got started, all it took was a little push here, a nudge there, and the dam holding back her frustration had cracked. That had been enough to allow the slightest rift in the fourth dimension, where his army had been collecting.

  Granted, it had taken some doing. The rift had been small, eye-of-a-needle size. Regardless, it had been enough. He’d picked, tweaked, pulled, nudged until that tiny snag had grown large enough to release a Cartesian. And once one made it through, the rest had been a cake walk.

  He wanted to celebrate but felt it a bit premature. Just getting that snag in place so he’d have this opportunity had taken centuries. He could be patient and wait a bit longer to reward himself for a job well done. Better to save the real party for when the entire quest was completed.

  Later meant a larger army, which meant more awareness of his greatness and supremacy. Then he’d be able to command the very stars in the sky to dance, to bow at his feet and call him Master... God.

  He hadn’t decided yet which term he preferred. There’d be time for that later.

  Now that the proverbial ball had started rolling, he’d make certain it picked up speed. This moment’s priority was to make sure his army, each squadron and its leader knew their position. To make certain they were committed to the fight and, more important, to him. To be at his right hand, ready to inform and infiltrate, to ingest the true purpose of his being in this operation. And that they would do so without question, doubt or reservation.

  He played and replayed the day’s events in his mind, going over every detail. What had worked and why. What hadn’t worked and why. Great leaders did that. Analyzed, strategized, reorganized.

  He’d watched the fight between the two alphas from afar, glorying in the frustration that had grown in Vivienne. The sexual tension in the air from the Loup Garous had been so strong it created its own bubble around the entire compound, causing Vivienne’s spells to weaken.

  But it hadn’t negated them as she’d thought. That was one thing she didn’t know and would never find out—if he had anything to do with it. Had she pushed a bit harder, she might have broken through.

  The alphas had felt the spell hit them, surround them. They’d fought against it, putting more energy into tearing into each other. His money had been on Milan, but alas, because of her he wasn’t able to watch either Milan or Warden succumb to death. By their own hands anyway.

  The stupid wench hadn’t realized that her binding spells and calming spells had been the reason Warden and Milan hadn’t killed each other. She kept repeating them over and over, spewing out her ridiculous, rhythmic words. Her own frustration level had done her in.

  And the fact that four Benders had arrived like knights on black horses didn’t worry him one bit. Sure, they managed to take out a few of his people with their stupid baton toy from time to time, but that was only a battle or two. No way they’d stop the war.

&
nbsp; As commander in chief, he’d had a small taste now of victory with the Originals, and refused to let anything or anyone get in his way when it came to taking them all. And that included the Triads.

  He was so thrilled with how well all had gone today, he felt a giggle threaten to rise in his throat. He held it back. Leaders, especially powerful ones, didn’t do ridiculous things like giggle. Truly, after waiting so many years, centuries, just being ordinary from time to time wasn’t so bad.

  All those years ago, he’d known he’d been born for greatness. He’d known from a very young age. His parents had never recognized his potential for supreme power. They’d cared for him as one would a family pet.

  Now the time had come to prove his greatness to the world. To the universe.

  They would know his army, his goal, his dream. They’d watch as he gathered every monstrosity from the underworld. The Nosferatu, the Loup Garou, the Chenilles and all their bastard subspecies—vampires, werewolves, zombies, leprechauns, fairies, the djinn. Every creature large and small, some immortal, all with unique and dangerous powers. He would take those powers unto himself, meld them with his own and make himself the most powerful creature the universe had ever known.

  The netherworld was the key, for those creatures were stronger, offered so much more than humans. Although those from the netherworld feared at times and each bore its own Achilles’ heel, they hungered for human flesh, blood and bone. What they feared was the mentality of humans and their resourcefulness in killing not only those of the netherworld, but each other.

  For him, there would be no fear. Only greatness. He’d have no worries about whether it was night or day or what he might have to feed upon.

  He looked over the small squadron of Cartesians that stood before him, all standing with pride, many still soaked in blood from their recent conquest. How they made him proud.

  In the natural world, they were stronger, more terrifying than any netherworldly creature known to man. They stood well over eight feet tall, bodies covered with thick scales that were overlaid with heavy fur. Their fangs were five times the length of any Loups or werewolf, and their claws were razor-sharp killing instruments.

  Nothing would stand in their way. Their size, power and talents were all of his making. His first victory dance had been the day he’d discovered his ability to weave in and out of dimensional folds. He taught each of his Cartesians to do the same. Such beauty and wonder to watch them duck and dodge time and space and wreak havoc of monstrous proportions. Then simply vanish as if they’d never existed at all.

  He’d discovered over the last forty decades that bending time and space took effort, but with the right amount of determination and focus, it was easily done. He had experimented with each fold, pushing farther each time.

  The farthest he’d managed was the sixth dimension and by the time he’d reached it, he’d been so exhausted, it had taken him nearly a decade to return to the third. He allowed and even encouraged his Cartesians to experiment as well, but none were allowed past the sixth dimension. He was unclear as to whether or not they’d be able to return if they went beyond that.

  Even restricted to the sixth, what his Cartesians were able to accomplish was far greater than he’d ever hoped. He kept most on standby in the fourth dimension so, should he sense a breach into the third, all he had to do was issue the command. In the blink of an eye, his troops would pounce through the breach and collect their bounty.

  For years, it had been one Cartesian here, another there. Two fairies, four or five subspecies of vampires or werewolves, but nothing on such a grand scale as today’s slaughter.

  The fact that their conquest had been the Loup Garou, one of the original breeds, untainted by another species, made it all the more delicious. No other creature, save for a Cartesian, would have dared cross that line. The protection over the Originals had always been too strong, too consistent. But time evidently changed things. One just had to be patient.

  And he had been the victor in that arena over Vivienne. She’d lost patience, and her frustration had taken hold and controlled her. That was not the mark of a great leader. That was the demise of stupid wenches who had been named Triads. How bogus. How superfluous.

  No rift in any dimension had produced so much fruit. Not of this magnitude. And for all intents and purposes, it was one to be repeated again very, very soon. He felt it down to his own scale-and-fur-covered bones.

  The thought of it made him shiver with delight—with power—with ecstasy. Soon it would all be his for the taking.

  With that thought front and center, he raised his monstrous arms and roared in triumph. He was Lord—he was Master—he was God.

  Chapter 9

  Viv didn’t know how long she’d been out, but she must have been sleeping the sleep of the dead. The next thing she knew, Socrates was yelling in her ear, and it was dark.

  “Get up!” Socrates yelled again.

  Viv swatted at him. “Stop. Let me sleep.”

  “He’s back in the house, Vivienne,” Socrates hissed. “All four of them in fact.”

  “Huh?”

  Socrates gave her an incredulous look. “The men from earlier, remember? Or did you leave your brain behind in REM sleep?”

  Her brain finally kicking into gear, she stumbled off the chaise, gave her eyes a second to adjust to the darkness, then went to her bedroom door and opened it a crack.

  She heard Gilly’s and Evee’s voices coming from downstairs along with Nikoli’s. She’d recognize the man’s silky baritone anywhere. Then Lucien spoke, and Gavril responded.

  Furious that Nikoli had the audacity to come back to their home after she’d told him to leave, Viv slapped on the lightswitch and blinked against the harsh brightness. She was about to yank the door open, then realized she had on the same clothes she’d worn since showering that morning.

  She headed to her closet, Socrates followed at her heels.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “Those men are back. Why aren’t you going downstairs, Vivienne?”

  “I am,” she said, pulling out a clean pair of jeans and a maroon V-neck blouse.

  Socrates sat on his haunches, watching as she stripped off the clothes she’d fallen asleep in and jumped into her clean ones. “My word, this is absurd,” he said. “I knew it. I simply knew it.”

  Viv gave him a warning glance. “Knew what?”

  “I tell you those strange men are back and instead of rushing downstairs to rid the house of them, you’re changing your attire. The only explanation for such a ridiculous reaction is as I assumed. You’re in heat, and for the man they call Nikoli.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Viv said. “You don’t know squat.” After dressing, she hurried into the bathroom, checked her reflection in the vanity mirror and saw her hair sticking out of her braid like straw from a worn broom. “Shit.” She quickly untangled the braid, brushed out her hair, then wove it back into place.

  Shoving her feet back into sneakers, Viv headed for the bedroom door. “Stay put, understand?”

  Socrates yawned in response.

  “I mean it.”

  With that, Viv left her bedroom and headed down the stairs. She glanced at the antique grandfather clock near the foyer as she followed the sound of the voices. She paused, staring at the time. 10:00 p.m. If the clock hadn’t gone on the fritz, it meant she’d slept for almost six hours, something she never did during the day. It unnerved her.

  As before, her sisters and the Hyland cousins were in the sitting room, almost in the exact positions they’d been in earlier that day. Except this time, Nikoli stood just inside the entrance to the room, his hands behind his back, head down as he listened to Gilly talk about her Chenilles.

  Viv stormed inside, ready to give Nikoli a piece of her mind, when Socrates jumped out in front of her as if he meant to lan
d on the occasional table that stood near the back wall. His acrobatics caused Viv to twist and duck so as not to get clawed in the head. Landing face first on the hardwood floors seemed imminent until an arm snatched her around the waist and stood her upright.

  They were Nikoli’s arms. And in that moment, her clairvoyant gifts chose to shift into high gear.

  She no longer saw the sitting room, her sisters or Nikoli’s cousins. She had been mentally transported to a different place—a different time...

  Where Nikoli’s lips were on hers, full and soft. They kissed hungrily, greedily, his tongue darting into her mouth, devouring it. His lips moved across her chin, down her neck. The width of his broad chest pressed against her breasts, which were bare. She felt her nipples aching, hardening when he stepped back ever so slightly to allow his hands access to her body.

  His touch sent fire coursing through her, and she moaned unabashedly for more. He lowered his mouth to her left breast, flicked her nipple with his tongue, his teeth grazing gently across it until she cried out.

  At the sound of her voice, he lifted his head, pressed her tightly against him once more, sought her mouth with his own and moved his hand down to the small of her back.

  His touch sent heat, passion and something Viv couldn’t identify flowing through her like lava. It awakened every nerve ending in her body, opening her up, yet closing her off at the same time, so all that existed or mattered was Nikoli’s touch.

  As his kisses grew more fervent, his hand slid lower—lower still, until she felt his fingers slide over her buttocks, then between her legs. One of his fingers edging closer to the center of her heat. She felt an orgasm forming in her core, growing higher and higher, like a tsunami of such magnitude it had the power to shift the earth on its axis.

  The next thing Viv knew, she heard a whisper in her ear.

  “Are you all right?” Nikoli asked.