01 - Underworld

by Greg Cox

  If she’s wasted a drop of his precious blood, he thought poisonously, I’ll see to it that Lucian has her tortured for all eternity!

  As expected, the sedan paid no heed to the skulking van, instead zipping straight toward the manor’s cast-iron gates, which opened automatically to admit her. Singe watched with curiosity as Selene sped her car down the driveway toward the shelter of the mansion’s sunproof walls. This vampiress, he recalled, always seemed to be on hand when Michael Corvin was in jeopardy, which made her suddenly very interesting to the sly lycan scientist.

  Perhaps, he reflected, this scouting mission is not such a waste of my time after all…

  Kraven was insatiable, sucking on Erika’s bleeding breast until she lost all sense of time and space. Still fully clothed himself, the vampire lord held her nude body erect above the carpeted floor of the suite as his thirsty mouth drained her of volition. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, flowing down his chin to stain his black brocade shirt.

  Erika knew she should protest, before her master emptied her beyond recovery, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go of Kraven’s flowing black locks, let alone tear herself away from his strong, voracious lips. This was what she had always longed for, after all, and an orgasmic thrill rippled endlessly through her palpitating body as, eyes tightly shut, she tilted her head back, offering Kraven her throat as well as her breast, should he choose to partake of her pulsing jugular. Bite me! Drink me! she entreated him lustily. Make me yours!

  BEEP-BEEP! The insistent ring of a cell phone interrupted nirvana. Erika’s eyes snapped open, and her lips let out a whimper of dismay as abruptly, inconceivably, Kraven’s mouth came away from her breast and his powerful arms let go of her body. Wait! she wanted to cry out, feeling his strong, masculine form slip away from her. Don’t stop!

  Tottering on unsteady legs, she watched in disbelief as the lord of the manor, who only seconds ago had been melded to her in an intimate bond of blood and desire, stepped across the room to retrieve his cell phone from a jacket hanging over the back of an eighteenth-century ebony chair. Ignoring Erika completely, he raised the phone to his ear. “What is it?” he demanded, casually wiping her immortal blood from his lips with the back of his hand.

  Erika heard the voice of Soren, Kraven’s dour lieutenant, emerge from the electronic mouthpiece. “She’s here,” he reported gruffly.

  Selene, she realized instantly, her humiliation complete. Who else could it be?

  His face still flushed and ruddy with Erika’s crimson essence, his shirtfront still stained with the scarlet excess of his salacious feast, Kraven rushed out of the suite without a word, leaving Erika standing naked and alone on the Persian carpet, abandoned, discarded, and almost completely drained of blood.

  Soren already had arrived at the front door when Kraven stormed into the spacious foyer. The stone-faced janissary was blocking the open doorway with his body. He clearly had no intention of letting Selene into the mansion before the sun rose.

  Kraven appreciated the sentiment but was not quite ready to see Selene’s flawless body reduced to ashes. “Let her pass,” he instructed sourly.

  Displaying not even a smidgen of gratitude for Kraven’s leniency, Selene shoved Soren aside and stalked into the mansion. Her eyes made contact with Kraven’s, then looked away in contempt. She strode past him without so much as a word of greeting, let alone an apology for her numerous transgressions.

  Astounded by her insolence, Kraven chased her down the corridor. With dawn only minutes away, most of the coven already had retired for the day, but a few stragglers still hurried to and fro about the mansion, taking care of various last-minute chores before seeking their respective quarters. These miscellaneous vampires watched the unfolding scene with curiosity and concern, all the while trying not to be too conspicuous in their eavesdropping.

  Kraven’s ruddy face, already encrimsoned by Erika’s blood, flushed even darker. Bad enough that Selene was brazenly flouting his authority, but did she have to do so in front of an audience? The embattled vampire regent could hear the scurrilous gossip burning his ears already.

  He hurled accusations at her back. “Not only have you broken the Chain, you’ve been harboring a lycan. A capital offense!”

  Not even the threat of execution slowed Selene’s determined trek through the mansion. He guessed that she was heading toward the crypt to see Viktor, blatantly going over his head. Not if I have anything to say about it! he vowed furiously, catching up with her before she reached the stairs at the rear of the mansion. Grabbing her arm, he forcefully steered her into the relative privacy of a secluded alcove. Under no circumstances are you speaking with Viktor before I have words with you.

  Metal shutters descended over the tinted windows lining the alcove, throwing the unlit niche deep into shadow. Kraven spun Selene around, forcing her to look him in the face. He saw neither fear nor guilt in her scornful gaze, which only infuriated him more.

  “How could you do this to me?” he raged, his fingers digging into her arm. “Embarrass me like this? The entire coven knows that I have plans for us!”

  “There is no us!” she spat back defiantly. Her eyes regarded him with disgust.

  Kraven lost his temper entirely. He slammed her against the sealed windows, causing the metal shutters to ring out. “You will go before Viktor and tell him exactly what I tell you. From here on out, you will do as I say.” Bleached white eyes and bared fangs demonstrated the dire extremity of his displeasure. “Is that in any way unclear?”

  Selene answered with a lightning-fast blow to his face. Wham! Her palm snapped up, smashing against his nose with expertly measured force—not enough to break anything but sufficient to send a jolt of misery straight to his brain.

  He dropped to one knee, blood trickling down his face. Selene took advantage of the moment to pull away from his grasp. She exited the alcove in a flash, the tail of her trench coat snapping in her wake.

  Kraven tasted his own blood upon his lips. Fortunately, after feasting on Erika, he had plenty to spare. He smirked as he licked the blood from around his mouth. At least he had provoked some sort of response from Selene, cracking her veneer of frosty detachment. Not exactly the type of foreplay I would have preferred, he thought lewdly, but it will do for now.

  Climbing to his feet, he charged after her, elbowing his way through a throng of gaping nosferatu. He pursued her down the marble stairway leading to the crypt, arriving at its underground entrance just in time to see an impenetrable steel door slam shut. He heard the tamperproof locking mechanism clank into place as Selene sealed the crypt from inside, stranding him in the hushed viewing chamber, unable to take part in Selene’s pending reunion with Viktor.

  “Blast it!” he cursed, consumed with frustration. Who knew what the treacherous Death Dealer was telling Viktor at this very moment?

  Selene approached the recovery chamber with apprehension, the genuine satisfaction she had taken in smashing Kraven’s face fading quickly as she faced the prospect of justifying her recent actions to Viktor. Kraven was not wrong when he accused her of violating the coven’s most sacred laws and traditions. She could only pray that Viktor would understand why she had been forced to do so.

  I awoke him with my own blood, she recalled hopefully. He already knows what is in my heart.

  The skeletal figure of the Elder waited for her to draw nearer, standing imperiously amid the high-tech trappings of the recovery chamber as though it were a gilded throne room. Selene saw with some relief that Viktor already had regained a portion of his former substance. Although still unnaturally gaunt and wizened, he no longer appeared quite so mummyish. There was a bit more flesh on his bony frame, and his chalky gray skin was not quite as stiff as parchment.

  Sunken eyes fell upon her, holding a strange mixture of joy and sorrow. Intravenous tubing pumped oxygenated red blood into his immortal veins. He beckoned for her to approach the plexiglass barrier between them.

  “Come closer
, my child,” he rasped drily.

  The guard looked up in surprise as Kraven barged into the security booth. He was one of Soren’s men, replacing the previous watchman, who had been stripped of his rank and duties for his carelessness in letting Selene trick him away from his post. If and when Kraven survived the next twenty-four hours, he fully intended to have the earlier guard flayed within an inch of his eternal life.

  For now, however, Kraven had more important mishaps to contend with. Without bothering to offer the new guard a word of explanation, he grabbed the startled vampire by the shoulders and forcibly ejected him from the booth. Then he yanked the door to the service corridor shut, ensuring that no one besides himself could witness whatever was transpiring in the crypt between Viktor and Selene.

  I must know what they are saying! Kraven thought frantically as he hastily fired up a security monitor. An anxious look washed over his face as he beheld a televised image of Selene approaching the risen Elder. He gulped in anticipation of what she might divulge, even as he assured himself that there was absolutely no excuse for her egregious crimes against the coven.

  No excuse at all.

  Selene bowed reverently before Viktor, then humbly began her explanation. “I have been lost without you, my lord. Constantly hounded by Kraven and his never-ending infatuation.”

  A death’s-head grin appeared on Viktor’s horrific countenance. “It is the oldest story in the annals of mankind,” the Elder said knowingly. “He most desires the one thing he cannot have.”

  Selene smiled, grateful for Viktor’s apparent understanding. An overwhelming rush of relief came over her. Perhaps this encounter would not be as terrible as she had feared. Everything I’ve done has been to ensure the safety of the coven. Viktor surely will recognize that!

  The grin disappeared from Viktor’s face, and his sonorous voice took on a sterner tone. Selene realized with a shudder that she may have counted her blessings too soon.

  “Now, tell me, why have you come to believe that Lucian still lives?”

  Spying from the security booth, Kraven felt a chill more than equal to the one Selene was now experiencing. This was the very topic he had been dreading. No good could come from Selene and Viktor invoking Lucian’s name.

  He bent closer to the booth’s loudspeaker, dismayed by what he was hearing yet hanging on every word. Keep your mouth shut, you back-stabbing slut! he thought heatedly, wishing he could reach through the monitor to choke Selene into silence. You can’t prove a thing!

  His cell phone rang unexpectedly, startling him. “What in blazes?” he muttered, reaching for the beeping device. His anxious gaze stayed fixed on the monitor screen as he lifted the phone to his ear.

  “Hello?”

  I have nothing to be ashamed of, Selene reminded herself. She met Viktor’s forbidding gaze with fearless brown eyes, her chin held high. “But I’ve given you all the proof you need,” she protested. Her wrist itched where she earlier had gnawed open her veins to share her blood—and her memories—with the Elder.

  “Incoherent thoughts and images,” Viktor said dismissively “Nothing more. Which is why an awakening always must be performed by an Elder. You do not possess the necessary skills.”

  I know that, Selene thought urgently. She had never expected that the catalyst drip would bring Viktor completely up to speed, the way it would have if Marcus or Amelia had performed the ritual. Ordinarily, under far less exceptional circumstances, the drip was the means by which the Elders maintained an unbroken progression of memories throughout the ages, with each Elder passing on two centuries’ worth of accumulated knowledge and experience to the Elder who succeeded him or her. Selene could not hope to have managed such a seamless transference, yet surely, she prayed with all her heart, something of her recent discoveries and suspicions must have penetrated Viktor’s newly awakened consciousness. The evidence of conspiracy was simply too alarming to ignore.

  “But I did see Lucian,” she insisted. “I shot him! You must believe me!”

  Viktor’s shriveled lips turned downward. Unmistakable anger infused his parched voice with a threatening edge. “The Chain has never been broken,” he declared ominously. “Not once, not in more than fourteen centuries. Not since we Elders first began to leapfrog through time. One awake, two asleep—that is the way of it.” His accusing eyes raked her over. “It is Marcus’ turn to reign, not mine!”

  Kraven paced back and forth within the security booth. His fretful eyes intently watched the security monitor, even as he listened to the intimidating voice on the other end of the line.

  Speak of the devil, the scheming regent thought unhappily. Lucian was demanding an update on the status of tonight’s operations. Kraven felt as though he were being torn in half by two equally formidable entities. Whom do I fear more? he asked himself. Viktor or Lucian? The Elder or the most fierce of the werewolves?

  “There’s been a complication,” he stammered into the phone, uncertain how to break the news of Viktor’s revival to the unforgiving lycan leader. Would Lucian blame him for Viktor’s untimely return to the waking world?

  It’s all Selene’s fault, he fumed silently. She and her wolfen Romeo!

  Selene tried to maintain her composure beneath Viktor’s scalding gaze. “But I had no choice,” she argued, knowing that her words might spell the difference between immortality and oblivion for her entire species. “The coven is in danger, and Michael is the key. I know it!”

  “Ah, yes,” Viktor said venomously. “The lycan.”

  There was a harshness in his voice that Selene never had heard before. The venerated Elder had always been like a father to her, ever since the night her mortal family perished. She would have trusted him with her life.

  But did he still trust her?

  “Please,” she pleaded. “Just give me the chance to get the proof you require.”

  In the security booth, Kraven switched off his phone, his ears still ringing with the sound of Lucian’s biting disapproval. The lycan had not been amused by the latest developments at the mansion. Kraven feared his prickly alliance with Lucian was now strained to the breaking point. Wiping his sweaty brow, he directed his full attention back to the security monitor, just in time to hear his own name being invoked over the intercom.

  “I will leave it to Kraven to collect the proof, if there is any,” Viktor declared.

  Selene reacted with shock to the Elder’s pronouncement, unable to conceal the hurt in her voice. “How can you trust him over me?”

  “Because,” Viktor thundered, “he’s not the one who has been tainted by an animal!”

  Kraven’s face lit up. He had never seen the Elder so incensed before, yet Viktor’s awesome fury seemed directed at Selene alone.

  Perhaps, the regent thought, my luck has changed.

  Heartbroken and disillusioned, Selene listened numbly as Viktor weighed forth upon her crimes. That she heard a degree of sorrow in his stentorian voice was meager consolation.

  “I love you like a daughter,” Viktor intoned solemnly, “but you’ve left me with no choice. Our rules are in place for good reason—and they are the only reason our kind has survived this long. You will not be shown an ounce of leniency. When Amelia arrives after sunset, the Council will convene to decide your fate.” His austere visage and dolorous tone offered no promise of mercy. “You have broken the Chain and the Covenant. You must be judged.”

  She had little doubt what that judgment would be.

  Erika watched as Selene was escorted through the salon and up the grand staircase by four armed guards. Grim-faced, Kraven and Soren accompanied the party as they led the accused Death Dealer toward her quarters in the east wing of the mansion. Unsurprisingly, Kraven did not even spare Erika a glance as he passed her by, despite their intimate encounter less than an hour ago.

  A cluster of curious vampires gathered at the foot of the stairs, exchanging rumor and gossip in excited whispers. Was it true what they were saying? Had Selene really awakened Vikto
r all on her own, without Kraven’s permission? Was she secretly in bed with a lycan?

  Erika snaked through the nattering crowd, keeping a close eye on Selene and her imposing entourage. The servant vamp had put her lacy uniform back on, yet her abused feelings still felt raw and exposed. She couldn’t forget the way Kraven had left her naked and abandoned the instant he’d received word of Selene’s return. She felt exploited, used, like an empty bottle of blood left discarded after a drunken binge.

  He never really cared about me, she realized, her lacerated breast still sore from Kraven’s ravenous attentions. Not for a single moment.

  All he cares about is Selene.

  Disengaging from the crush of undead bystanders, she stealthily crept up the stairs after Kraven and the others. No one noticed her depart. She was just a chambermaid, after all, meaningless, invisible. Erika followed Selene and her captors, taking care to keep a safe distance back, until the party reached the entrance to Selene’s quarters. Erika ducked into a small, unfrequented alcove.

  Peering around the corner, she felt a jealous pang as she observed Kraven disappear into the suite after Selene, pulling the door shut behind him. Soren and his goon squad remained in the hallway outside the suite, sullenly standing watch like bouncers at an exclusive nightclub.

  Only the presence of the guards kept Erika from running down the hall and placing her ear against the door. Despite everything that had happened since the sun went down last night, or perhaps because of it, she desperately yearned to know what was going on behind the solid pine door.

  What could possibly be transpiring between Kraven and Selene?

  Selene wished that Kraven would simply leave her alone. Her ghastly confrontation with Viktor had left her depleted and drained of spirit; the last thing she needed right now was Kraven’s egocentric gloating.