Vampire Undone

by Shannon Curtis

  The concierge and the other vamp hesitated, disappointment and annoyance twisting their features as they stopped and turned to walk back to the hotel. For them, the light snack in Lucien’s arms had just turned into poison.

  “Why did you tranq her?”

  “It was either that or let the other two feed on your reluctant little plaything, here,” Heath said, gesturing to the unconscious Natalie on the ground. “They weren’t going to let her open that gate. Neither was I.”

  Lucien slid one arm under Natalie’s knees, one arm behind her back, and scooped her up. He started walking toward the hotel entrance. She’d been ready to pull open that door and let the sunlight stream in. She could have killed all of them in her frantic need to escape. The concierge wouldn’t have allowed it. And her darting off from Lucien like that? Well, she must have looked like fair game to them. Lucien hefted her in his arms, holding her firmly.

  He got it. He’d been slow, admittedly, but he’d finally realized what was going on. It was hard to miss her terror. She’d been killed by a vampire. Well, a vampire and a werewolf in some sick and twisted killing spree love duo. And he’d brought her to a place where she would be surrounded by more of the same. She’d gotten spooked. His lips tightened at his carelessness. She’d panicked. She’d tried to run, just like she’d tried to run after his first visit. Damn it. What the hell happened to her all those years ago? It was as though she’d segued into that time, pleading with him to save her, save her parents. His muscles tightened. Is that what had happened? Had she cried out for him all those years ago? So frightened, so vulnerable, had she called his name during the attack?

  God. No wonder she hated him. He felt like a douche. A mean-spirited, manipulative douche, forcing her to help him by threatening to kill her friends—just like she’d been killed—forcing her to face her very real, genuine fears.

  “Mind telling me why you’re bringing your unconscious friend into my fine establishment?” Heath inquired as he sauntered alongside him.

  Heath made a casual gesture to the concierge and the vampire immediately crossed over to Lucien’s car and started hauling out the bags. Another vampire jogged out to help. Lucien shook his head when the man offered to carry Natalie. No. He wasn’t letting her go. The man turned to assist the concierge with the bags.

  “She’s...helping me.”

  Heath’s eyebrow rose. “Oh, so that’s what help looks like.”

  Lucien shot him an exasperated look as they entered the hotel lobby. The decor was the Rafferty’s signature black, white and chrome. Ultra modern, with gray marble on the floors, white, polished wall tiles that caught the light from the stunningly elaborate chandelier, and black-and-silver accents in the furniture, light fixtures, art sculptures and wall trims. It could have looked tacky but somehow it looked elegant and stylish instead.

  “I like what you’ve done with the place,” Lucien commented. Heath was one of the first friends he’d made on the west coast, and they’d worked together on a number of lucrative projects. His friend had just taken over the family’s hotel chain. Heath shrugged as he crossed the lobby to the reception desk. “It’s a work in progress.”

  “I see you’ve left the skylights,” Lucien commented, eyeing the tempered strip of glass that ran the width of the building’s roof. The rest of the ceiling ran beneath the hill. The glazing on the window allowed a muted light to shine through, but not enough to cause the vampires inside any pain.

  Heath grimaced. “I hate it, but Mom likes it and wants it to stay. I’m going to wear her down, though.” He winked at the hotel receptionist, who blushed and smiled back. He tapped away on her computer keyboard and, within moments, had programmed a keycard. “Mr. Marchetta is a personal friend of mine,” Heath told the receptionist. “I’ll take him and his...guest...to his room.”

  Heath indicated the far wall and stepped out to escort Lucien to the elevator. As soon as the doors were closed, Heath pressed a button, folded his arms and leaned against the mirrored wall. He eyed the unconscious Natalie in Lucien’s arms as the elevator descended into the side out of the mountain. “She’s pretty. Haven’t seen you have to run down a date before, though.”

  Even though the comment was casually uttered, Lucien could hear the curiosity in his friend’s voice.

  “She’s not a date,” Lucien said. “She’s helping me with Vivianne.”

  Heath sighed. “I’m sorry, man. How is your sister doing?” Heath was one of the first people to offer him help when his sister had been attacked by chasing down a voodoo witch in Old Orleans. He was one of the few who didn’t waste his time trying to tell Lucien what a hopeless quest he was on. For that, Lucien would call him friend for the ages.

  “Not so good. Time’s running out.”

  “And how does this little one fit into the picture?” Heath reached to touch the tangled blond ponytail and Lucien shifted as the elevator came to a smooth halt. Heath’s lips twisted in a dry smile at the protective move. “Ah. I see.”

  “No, you don’t.” Lucien didn’t “see,” didn’t really understand what was going on between him and Natalie, so Heath couldn’t “see” a damn thing. She made him feel angry. She made him feel confused. She occasionally made him feel like a right royal schmuck and sometimes she made him feel like he was going to combust from desire. Now, though, she made him feel tender, and caring. Damn it, enough with the feelings.

  “She’s not one of us,” his friend said as they stepped out of the elevator. Thick, plush, charcoal-colored carpet stretched along the hallway, with strategically placed wall sconces that shed a muted, cool light. Lucien hoisted her a little higher in his arms, trying to ignore the warm curves pressed against his body—because if he allowed himself to get aroused carrying an unconscious woman, he deserved every criticism Natalie could level at him.

  “No, she’s not.”

  “You might want to keep to your room,” Heath suggested, looking at him briefly over his shoulder before walking on down the hall. “She looks tasty enough, and we have enough guests here who might confuse her for a feeder.”

  Feeders were humans who willingly offered their blood to vampires. Heath’s hotel chain always had a sumptuous feast on offer, and Lucien knew Heath made it a point to protect his stock. One of the infamous Rafferty’s Rules—you couldn’t completely consume any of his feeders. He offered enough variety and quantity that it never seemed to be an issue.

  Still, Lucien did not want Natalie exposed to that kind of risk, especially if the mere sight of a vampire sent her running for the hills—literally. “Point taken.”

  Heath stopped in front of a door, swiped the card and swept into a room. Lucien followed. Well, more of a suite than a room. Split level, the living area two steps down into the room, with a thick black rug on the floor, large armchairs and a sumptuous sofa upholstered in black leather. Two bedrooms opened off the far landing. He could see through the open doors two expansive beds covered in white linen and black throw cushions. Two beds. Lucien tried to ignore the small spark of disappointment.

  Heath indicated the suite. “So, this is yours for as long as you need it. Room service can get you everything you need.”

  Lucien strode past his friend and gently laid Natalie on the sofa. He picked up a light gray wool throw off the armrest and draped it over her sleeping form, making sure her neck was supported by a cushion before he stepped back. He turned to find his friend gazing at him intently.

  Lucien cleared his throat and tried to distract his friend. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said. “I thought you were refurbishing your properties in the north.”

  Heath grimaced. “That’s where I’m supposed to be, but I need to sort a few things out here, so this roost gets refurbished first.”

  Lucien’s eyebrows rose. “Anything to do with why you’re walking around one of your properties with a tranq
gun?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  Heath shrugged. “Not sure, yet. Will let you know. So, where are you headed? I would have expected you to be a little further south, if you were heading home to the west coast.”

  Lucien shook his head. “No, we’re headed to a small town up in the Aerions—Devil’s Leap.”

  Heath’s eyes narrowed. “Devil’s Leap? What’s up there for you?”

  Lucien shrugged. “Maybe nothing, but Natalie thinks there might be something there to help Vivianne.”

  Heath’s gaze slid to Natalie on the sofa. “Can you trust this woman?”

  Lucien turned to look at her. Her features were so sweet, so relaxed, in her drug-induced slumber. But there was something going on with her—and her books—that he just didn’t understand. Something she was trying to hide from him. She’d tried to lie to him. And today she’d been prepared to turn him and Heath to ash in her effort to escape a vampire roost.

  Somehow, though, he believed in her. Believed in her ability to help Vivianne. Believed in her sincerity and integrity. From their very first meeting, she’d helped him, at great sacrifice to herself.

  “Yeah, I trust her,” Lucien said quietly.

  Heath shook his head. “You are such a sucker. She nearly nuked us, and now she’s taking you to Devil’s Leap. There are stories about that place, Luc.”

  Lucien arched an eyebrow. “I never thought you were the one to believe in campfire stories and fairy tales, Heath.”

  Heath snorted. “I’m not. But that place is not friendly to the shadow breeds.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Nothing much—like you said, campfire stories and fairy tales. I do know that Eventide got a foothold in this area because the ridgewalkers disappeared.”

  Eventide was Heath’s colony. “Ridgewalkers?”

  “Werewolf pack that held this territory before The Troubles. They were wiped out.”

  Lucien rubbed his chin. “Interesting. Ridgewalkers, huh? What happened to them?”

  Heath shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care. The day a wolf pack disappears is a good day for me. I’m not going to lose any sleep over it, especially as Eventide benefited from it. Anyway, can’t stand here yapping. You know that saying...have tranqs, must shoot.”

  “Must have missed that one.” Lucien frowned. The tranqs worked well on humans, obviously. But protect them from vampires...? He wasn’t sure if that made any sense. “The verbena means you won’t be able to feed.”

  Heath waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, that. It’s only a mild dose. Humans metabolize it within a couple of hours. Vamps wake up with a hell of a hangover. Werewolves—well, there’s a nice little measure of wolfsbane in there, too, so they don’t wake up at all. One shot can neutralize pretty much most shadow breeds.”

  Lucien whistled. “One tranq that can knockout everything? Where did you get that?”

  “It’s my own concoction.” Heath said, a touch of pride in his tone.

  “Is this a new sideline for Rafferty Inc.?”

  Heath had expanded the family business of high-end luxury accommodation and leisure activities to encompass pharmaceuticals and technology. And now it looked like he was venturing into munitions.

  “Just something I’m dabbling in at the moment. Your father’s shown an interest in investing.”

  That didn’t surprise Lucien. If there was a way his father could develop weapons to be used against lycans, he was interested.

  There was a knock at the door and Heath leaned forward to open it. Staff stood outside, carrying Lucien’s and Natalie’s bags. Heath stepped aside to let them in.

  “Right, well, much as I’d like to catch up with you, I’ve got work to do. Call me if you need me.”

  “Thanks, Heath.”

  Lucien tipped the staff and closed the door. He turned. It was just him and Natalie now. An unconscious Natalie. Lucien frowned as he stepped toward the sofa. He crouched until he was level with her face and brushed a strand of blond hair off her face.

  “I will keep you safe,” he whispered to her, leaning forward to brush a soft kiss against her forehead. He adjusted the blanket to cover her more fully and then turned to their bags. May as well make himself useful.

  * * *

  Natalie stirred. Winced. Ow. Her head throbbed as though she’d drunk her body weight in bourbon. Her eyelids flickered and she squinted at the light that lanced through her lashes.

  “Finally,” a woman’s voice muttered. “Your boyfriend’s been snooping through my stuff.”

  Boyfriend? Whaaat? Natalie frowned, raising her hand to her head to try to make sure everything was where it should be. Namely, her brains on the inside. Thump. Thump. It took her a little longer to realise she no longer wore her gloves. She could feel her pulse in her ears, in her temple and at a painful spot at the back of her neck. What the hell?

  Fleeting memories of a dark tunnel and vampires in weird uniforms swam in a blurred mess in her mind’s eye. Running. Running for a gate. A burn in her shoulder. Then nothing. She jolted when those fuzzy memories coalesced into something with clarity. A vampire roost.

  “Hey, sleeping beauty,” a deep voice said to her left. Her head whipped around and she regretted the swift movement as her vision swam and her stomach heaved. Lucien closed a familiar-looking tattered book and placed it on the small end table next to him—right next to her gloves.

  His gaze deepened with concern as she clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” she said. Her stomach roiled and her mouth felt like she’d chewed on sandpaper.

  “Here, have some of this.” Lucien was by her side immediately, holding a glass of water to her mouth.

  She drank, gulping the cool liquid to ease the roughness in her throat.

  “Easy, minx, easy,” he cautioned gently.

  She lifted her head to look at him and he smiled as he wiped the last drop of water off her bottom lip. That simple caress heightened her senses even further. She could feel his breath stir her tangled hair, smell that seductive scent of patchouli and sandalwood, feel the warmth emanating from his body. She could feel herself softening, relaxing.

  “Better?”

  She blinked at the tenderness in his gaze, his touch. Heat bloomed inside her. A heat she firmly swamped with cool rage as she took in the room around them. Black furniture, gray carpet, white walls with—framed art, and tasteful lighting. All opulent and luxurious, all screaming cold, bloodless comfort. Right down to the bottle of red wine and two crystal glasses placed oh, so stylishly on a silver platter on the dark coffee table in front of the sofa. God, she hoped that was wine.

  “Where are we?” The words burned along her throat.

  His expression became shuttered. “We’re at the roost.” He placed his hand on her shoulder when she tried to launch toward the door. “It’s okay, Natalie. You’re safe. I know the owner. We won’t be disturbed.”

  “Is that supposed to make this okay? You say some empty words and poof—” she snapped her fingers “—everything is going to be all right?” She tried to rise again and winced as her muscles screamed in protest. Her shoulder ached. She subsided against the sofa. “What the hell happened to me?”

  “You were shot with a tranquilizer. It was either that or be taken down by some very concerned vamps.” He frowned as he surveyed her. “I was told it would have worked its way out of your system by now.”

  She brushed his hand off her shoulder. “Well, you were told wrong. You should have let me leave.”

  He shook his head. “This is a roost, Natalie. You were going to open the tunnel gate. Any vampire within the sun’s reach would have turned to ash. We’re going to have to wait until sunset.”

  She glanced at her w
atch. Four hours. She’d have to survive four hours inside this hell hole. Her eyes widened as she noted her skin. It was pale—like, really pale—and her veins looked light gray in color. “What was in that shot?”

  Lucien shrugged. “A bit of a cocktail, I’m afraid. Sedatives, verbena, wolfsbane—Heath was covering his bases.”

  Damn. No wonder she felt like crap. She flexed her hands and took a small comfort as the color of her skin started to revert to a more normal tone, the veins starting to lose that gray look.

  “I promise, Natalie. You’ll be safe here.”

  “A human? Safe? Here?” She shook her head. “Only a vamp would say that. A human walking into a roost is pretty much committing suicide.”

  “Not here. You’re not a feeder, you’re a guest. My guest.”

  She rubbed her forehead. “That sounds so wrong. I don’t want to stay here.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry,” he murmured as he moved to sit beside her on the sofa. “I didn’t think. I use this particular chain for all of my travel, and I didn’t think of how it would affect you, after what happened... I’m sorry. We’ll check out as soon as the sun sets.”

  She glanced at him, surprised by his apology. His voice was warm with sincerity and she could see regret etched into the grooves of his face. When he was all genuine and caring like this, it was easy to remember him as an oh, so patient, yet slightly naughty benevolent figure who’d once kept her company. When pain had racked her body during the night, when she’d lain awake, terrified of her nightmares and feeling so lonely and low, he’d been there. Playing games, taking her on secret excursions her parents claimed she was too ill to indulge in... Everyone had treated her like she was dying, but Lucien had showed her that even the undead knew a thing or two about living.

  She looked away from him. She didn’t want to remember him like that. He was a vampire. She’d been hurt so much by vampires, had lost so much because of vampires. It had been so easy to blame them all for what had happened to her. After all, it was their very nature to prey on humans. They all did it. Lucien did it. It had been so easy just to avoid them all, wherever possible. She’d managed to avoid shadow breeds for nearly forty years.