Black Heart: Coeur de Sade (Black Heart Series) (13 page)

            Twenty sets of eyes turned toward me.  None looked pleased to see me.  No hostility, but no pleasure either.  Some of those eyes looked down right feral.  What surprised me, though, were their auras.  Some of them were huge.  Not vampire big, but still much larger than a normal person's aura.  I saw most of their auras had nothing to distinguish their auras for a normal aura, which surprised me.  You'd think there would be some kind of taint to their auras.  But a few of their auras were slightly different, with the inside of the aura kinda filled in so that it didn't look like a perfect circle.

            "You must be Gabe's friend," one of the men said, just a few feet in front of me.  We looked each other over.  He was about six one, dark hair almost to his shoulders, feral brown eyes, and a slim build.  "I'm Quentin."

            Quentin wasn't particularly impressive looking.  He was clean shaven, and not unattractive.  I just didn't see anything to indicate he was the biggest, baddest bastard there.  But the proof in the pudding was
after
they transformed into wolves.  Then I looked at his aura, and found it was the biggest of them all, and it was one of the "filled in" auras.

            "I'm Sable.  Pleased to meet you," I said, holding out my hand.  He took it, and squeezed much harder than necessary.  I matched him, careful to not try and win that petty little test. 
Men!
  "Thank you for seeing me."

            "Thank Gabe," Quentin said.  He was not a happy camper.  None of them were.  I started to get a little nervous.  "What do you want?  We're busy, so make it fast."

            He expected me to talk about my business in front of everyone?  I don't think so.  But I was distracted when I spotted the two wolves in the middle of the circle.  Both were bloody and trembling with suppressed aggression.

            "Pack business?" I said, indicating the wolves.  "Someone trying to move up in the pecking order?"

            "What's that supposed to mean, you fat-titted vamp tramp?" a blonde of about forty said, green eyes flashing.

            Fat-titted vamp tramp?  Me?

            "Get her, Bridget," someone said from the crowd.

            Bridget was about four inches shy of my five foot ten, with shoulder length blonde hair under a tightly curled straw cowboy hat, a pink tank top and faded red jeans over scuffed up cowboy boots.  She had an athletic build, and looked tough as nails.

            "Bridget's alpha and top female," Quentin said, grinning.  "Just so you know."

            "Appreciate that," I said, then faced the angry werewolf.  She stopped a mere foot before me.  First time I ever met a mortal not afraid of a vampire.  Her aura was a slightly smaller version of Quentin's.  "Just an observation from an outsider, Bridget.  No insult intended."

            "No one here wants to be your skanky fang whore," Bridget sneered.  She took a more aggressive stance, like she expected me to put up a fight.  "I think it would be best if you left now."

            "Really?  There are werewolf fang whores?  I've never heard of such a thing," I said, totally ignoring her belligerence.  "Interesting thought, but not why I'm here.  I assure you, I don't need to
look
for fang whores.  I get numerous propositions every night."

            Her eyes did a slowly scan of my body, "I bet you do.  Slut."

            I don't know if it was being called a slut, or the vitriol in her tone, but that pissed me off.  Her wide mouth curled ever so slightly at the ends when my fists clenched briefly.  Tension ratcheted up.

            "Spoiling for a fight, huh?"

            "If I am?"

            "Ever fight a vampire?"

            "There is a first time for everything," she said, then gave me a dismissive look.

            "I can transform into a wolf, too."

            "But I'll be a bigger wolf, or a wolf-woman.  I'm alpha."

            Oh, made me wonder.  Were the werewolves with the filled in auras the alphas?  There were only a handful, and I've heard only a few werewolves were alpha.

            "I can morph completely into a wolf in about two seconds."

            They all froze.  Guess they weren't thinking about that.  Werewolves turned into much bigger wolves than vampires, but it took them a few minutes to transform.  Alphas transformed faster, but still not as fast as a vampire.  She would be pretty much helpless until she completed the transformation.

            "You'd be dead within a few seconds," I said.  Nothing vicious in my tone.  Just a matter-of-fact warning.  Nothing but the facts, ma'am.  "Did you think about that?  And then I could turn into a bat and fly away."

            "How dare you come here and threaten us?" Quentin said.  "Who do you think you are?"

            "I'm Black Heart," I said.  They were really ticking me off now.  Any moron could see I didn't start anything.  "I'll leave once I have what I want."

            "Wanna bet?" Quentin snarled.  About a third of them started to transform.  Including Bridget.  The two already wolves came up to either side of their alpha female, to protect her.  "Leave.  Now."

            I locked angry eyes with him, and tried to mesmerize him.  Not going to happen.  No one told me I couldn't hypnotize werewolves.  That would've been good to know ahead of time.  I knew werewolves were already Tainted, so couldn't be Changed into vampires.

            Bridget started stripping as she transformed.  Dark hair was slowly growing all over her body.  Her lower face was starting to protrude out into a snout.  Her fingers were stretching and thickening, nails turning into claws.

            "There is an alpha male in the Dallas area," I said, barely able to tear my eyes away.  "He is about to start a war between werewolves and the vampire council."

            "Good," Bridget snarl.  It was barely discernable as human speech.

            "Jesus, you people are worse than vampires," I said, shaking my head.  There had to be a way to gain their help.  Fast.  "But there is a werewolf, probably an alpha male, who has a talisman.  A red ruby on a necklace."

            "Fritz?" someone said.

            "Fritz?  Fritz who?  Is Fritz his first or last name?" I said, trying to discern who said it.

            "None of your business," Quentin said.  "We're about to find out if a vampire can pull herself back together after we rip off her limbs."

            Bridget was almost finished with her transformation into a wolf-woman.  She had shaggy dark blonde hair all over, but she was definitely a woman beneath all that hair.  She now stood a good six feet all, and much thicker.

            I started backing out of the barn.  They were all slowly creeping toward me.  I could transform into a bat and fly away.  The thought of how cowardly that would look irked me.  Don't know why. 

           
I should've brought my pistol
, I thought. 
I'm so stupid sometimes
.

            "A war between vampires and werewolves will bring both groups into the spotlight, in very unfavorable circumstances," I said.  "It'll spook the mortals."

            "We'll deal with it," Quentin said.  "But maybe Fritz will kill all the vampire leaders, and we'll take over in their place."

            I didn't like the sound of that.

            "Are you crazy?  Hundreds, if not thousands of werewolves will be slaughtered.  Don't you care?" I said.

            "No," he said, and Bridget let out a deep throated howl.

            I turned and ran for all I was worth.  I could fly away if I had to, but I did not want to leave my car behind.  They would keep it, or trash it.

            Let me tell you.  Wolfmen, and wolf-women, are much faster than vampires when it came to running.  Bridget raced past me.  The other wolves formed a semi-circle behind me, herding me towards her.  She stopped and turned to face me near my car.

            "Now you and me are going to fight," Bridget managed to growl.  It was actually better than when she was in the throes of transformation.

            "Why is it always the
bitches
that fuck with me?" I said, dropping into a fighting stance.  All the female wolves growled.  "I told you I don't want any trouble."

            "Bull," Bridget said.

            "Quentin!  I came to see you as Gabe's friend, just to ask — " I started to say, but Bridget attacked.

            She was fast.  Not vampire fast, but fast.  She brought her right hand — claw? — around for a vicious slash at my face.  I caught her wrist on my left forearm, and punched her in the throat.  Bridget gagged and coughed, staggering back.  I followed.  I had to end it quick, but I dropped my guard and she backhanded me.

            Spinning around, I dropped to one knee.  Slightly dazed, I paused a second to regain my wits.  I waited too long.  Bridget kicked me in the lower back, above the right kidney, then seized my neck in both hands.  And squeezed as she lifted me off the ground.

            My windpipe was crushed within seconds.  Thankfully I don't need to breath.  But it was painful and disconcerting.  I panicked as she held me high and away from her.  I heard the werewolves laughing as I kicked and flailed helplessly.

            "Die, vamp!" Bridget cried.

            She squeezed harder, and started shaking me violently.  After a moment I started to regain my senses, realizing she thought she could strangle me to death.  No one was stopping her, either.  Did they not know?

            It was not easy.  Lord, it wasn't.  But I slowly relaxed.  I let my arms fall limply to my side, and forced my legs to go limp next.  Then I relaxed my body and neck, stopped fighting her powerful grip around my throat.  I thought she might snap my neck, but I had to try.

            "Yes!"

            "Bridget killed the vamp whore!"

            "Bridget!  WA-hoo!"

            "Yes, I did it!" Bridget cried, and let out a wild, triumphant howl.  She laughed, and then threw me hard.

            I flew a good fifteen feet.  My fall was broken by the back window of a pickup truck.  The glass cracked, and I fell into the bed in back.

            "Hang her from the big oak, and we'll drink beer and watch her body evaporate when the sun rises," Bridget said.

            I dragged myself to my feet and glowered at the jubilant werewolves.  They'd forgotten all about me already.  Talk about feeling disrespected.  I wanted to say something biting and snarky, but my windpipe was still healing.  It itched and tickled at the same time.

            I dusted glass off, picked a few pieces out of my hair and cleavage.  Then I did a little hop out of the pickup bed, and smiled when several faces snapped to me.

            "Surprise," I rasped out.

            "No," Bridget said, then growled as she raced towards me.

            "Insolent bitch," I said, and picked up a red Suzuki.

            Everyone got real quiet when I promptly smacked Bridget down with the motorcycle.  Bridget didn't get back up.  She was still alive, but unconscious.  Werewolves were almost as hard to kill as vampires.

            "You can't strangle a werewolf to death, so what made you think you could strangle a vampire?" I said.  "You're all dumber than dogs."

            They growled as a group.  Even the ones still in human form growled.  Very menacing.  It made an impression on me.  No doubt.  But I had the upper hand, and wasn't giving it up.

            I turned on my vampire menace.  Full blast.  One of the wolves actually whimpered.  I'd never done that before.  It kinda surprised me, too.  A pleased sort of surprised.

            "Only out of respect for my friend Gabe, I will refrain from killing Bridget," I said.  "I can.  I know how.  But if you don't back down now, I'll rip her heart out and eat it."  I gave them a cold look, then picked up the Suzuki again, and threw it through the front door of the house.  "And then I'll start on the rest of you moonstruck morons."

            Throwing the motorcycle twenty feet through the door seemed to convince them I might be more than they wanted to play with.  Wise decision.  I got into my car and left.

            "At least I have a name," I said.  "Fritz."

CHAPTER 8

            The drive back to Dallas went fast.  I was so pissed.  Gabe had better be awake.  He was getting a very rude awakening otherwise.  His friend attacked me.  Quentin and his pack never had any intention of talking to me.

            My cell rang.  I scowled.  I didn't want to deal with Jeff or Tara.  I didn't recognize the number being displayed.  It could be Gabe, calling me with a borrowed cell phone.  So I answered.

            "Sable?"

            It was Bone Daddy, my best undead friend and Desiree's pimp.

            "Boney?  Wow, you actually returned a phone call," I said.  "Imagine that.  I must be blessed."

            "Caught you in a bad mood, I see," Boney said.  He didn't sound particularly happy either, but was trying half-heartedly.  I bet he felt guilty about being with Antoinette and not coming to my defense with the council.  "Can you talk?"

            "Yeah.  I'm driving at ninety-eight miles an hour, but I'm good," I said.  "How can I help you?"

            "You called me?"

            "Yes.  I'm sorry, but I just had a very unsatisfactory love fest with a pack of werewolves," I said.  "I'm lucky to be alive.  You should've warned me about them."

            "Oh, yes.  Watch out for werewolves.  They're fast, vicious, and don't like vampires at all," he said.  I could hear the smile on his face.  "Unless you just like sex with really hairy men.  Or halfmen."

            "Whateva," I said, laughing.  I could feel the tension bleeding away.  Boney did that for me.  He was one of the few people I felt safe around.  Then I thought of Gabe, my hirsute vampire hunting lover.  "Hairy men can have their charms."

            "Ugh.  Disgusting," he said.  "Thankfully women know how to shave and wax."