Born of Night (12 page)

They closed in, sniffing the air as though scenting some delicacy had been pulled from an oven, ripe for tasting.

One of the men snatched her hair, twisting her face toward the sky. Jessica gritted her teeth against the pain, raking her nails down his arm until he released her. In a lightning-fast move, his hand snaked out and slapped her, drawing blood from her mouth. Her lips throbbed with biting pain. She spat out the sickening taste, resisting the urge to rub her mouth to ease the pain.

He snickered, shaking his arm. “She bleeds. I say we eat her and then continue on to their gathering place. This hunt was not nearly as satisfying as I wished.”

Another audibly sniffed the air. “I smell Lycan cock and pussy ... and blood. The hunger gnaws, I agree.”

“You will not touch me,” she ground out, holding her hands as weapons.

“There is no one to stop us, not even your Lycan lover.”

The words were a slap in the face. They couldn’t know what she’d done, but they did. She didn’t believe they smelled it--they must have come from that place. “What did you do with him?” she screamed, struggling to her knees. “Where is Gabriel?

Did you ... kill him?” Her voice broke. She choked down a sob.

“She cries,” a male said, snickering.

One of the men spoke up, “We’d be happy to oblige you by killing him if you’ll show us the way.”

“Her pussy smells sweet. Lycan coats her skin. I wonder if the little bitch tastes as good as she smells. I say again, we should eat her and let the master find his own kill. The night grows short.” Menace dripped from his voice.

She knew in that moment that she was dead. And she was damned well going to take some of them with her. The savagery of her thoughts empowered her.

Blistering rage surged inside her. Jessica jumped fluidly from her knees with a snarl, running at him with her fingers curled into talons. He laughed, pushing at her as though she were no more threat than an gnat. The laughter died on his lips as she ducked past his arm and came up again, gouging her fingers into his eyes with a scream that scored the lining of her throat. Blood spurted from his lids, lukewarm as it hit her face and rolled down her cheeks. She ignored the instant, fierce nausea, continued crushing his eyes, digging in, trying to find his brain.

She wasn’t going to die without a fight. She’d hurt them, make them sorry they ever touched her, ever hunted her.

He screamed and knocked her back. Her brain rattled as she hit a tree trunk. Her head thunked wetly against the harsh bark. Hot blood seeped instantly onto her scalp, tingles crawling through her hair like biting ants. Her eyes crossed, making her dizzy. She closed her eyes against the sickening bile that rose in her throat with a burning tide. She’d become an animal and it had done her no good.

The vamp she’d attacked screamed again and snarled, “I will kill her now!”

Something stopped him from attacking--she didn’t look to see what. She was too ill to feel grateful.

“No,” another said, “This one intrigues. She smells and acts almost ... Lycan. We take her to the master.”

Someone grabbed her arms suddenly, hauled her roughly to her feet. Her legs were weak, unable to support her weight. She struggled to keep her feet under her as she opened her eyes to another wave of nausea, and then felt her heart stop as she looked at the blood blackened face looming above her. He snarled at her, baring sharp teeth that gleamed in the light, but that wasn’t what sent the icy dread slithering through her bloodstream.

His eyes ... his eyes were back.

She’d crushed them, felt them pop beneath her nails. Her fingers were covered in sticky gore.

He grinned at her, as if reading her thoughts, snapping his jaws menacingly at her face. Jessica struggled against him, frantic to get away, clawing at his arms, his neck, anywhere she could reach. His hands tightened on her, cutting off the blood flow to her hands. She winced from the pain.

She knew then that Gabriel’s tales had been true. There were monsters in the night.

And she was their prisoner.

* * * *

No one knew what he’d done, that he’d marked Jessica in the most primal of ways.

Gabriel had sliced his thigh and smeared his own blood on his groin, masking the scent of her before rinsing off once more.

Unbelievably, it had worked. He’d felt invigorated from their joining, fiercer than ever to defend his right to claim her as mate.

The fights came faster, easier, but they still wore him down.

Now he’d accomplished something few had ever seen in their territory--he’d triumphed over every challenger without serious harm to himself.

Gabriel was weary beyond belief, his mind was spent, exhausted. The tight warmth of her body, the sweet taste of her kiss glimmered in memory alone, swallowed by the effort to survive. Every blow made Jessica safer, every strike insured she covered more distance.

He stood now, in the clearing, alone. After what seemed like an eternity, the challengers had ceased to come. His chest visibly rose and fell, pronouncing the taut line of his body, his rigid, wary stance. Blood dripped from his fingers, trickled from lacerations in his flesh, slowly healing with feverish sped.

Deron stepped forward into the clearing, regarding Gabriel with clear admiration.

“You have done well, Gabriel.” He looked around the circle of their brethren. “Are there no others left who wish to challenge him for the right to the girl?”

They were silent, as one. The challenge was over.

“Claim your woman,” Deron said to Gabriel.

The pack roared with approval, calling to his inner beast. A wind sighed through the gathering, carrying with it a sense of completion and victory. He tilted his face and looked toward the setting moon, wondering if he could find Jessica again, unbelieving that the ordeal was finally over.

The stars blotted from the sky a brief moment as a black shape crossed his line of vision.

Gabriel ducked and rolled as it swooped over his head, coming up baring his claws.

He growled in warning, tensing to jump.

“Peace, Lycan. I bring a message for the one called Gabriel,” the vampire said with barely repressed amusement.

“I am Gabriel,” he snarled, his hackles standing on end. Never had the vampires dared to invade the luna clearing.

The vamp looked him over. “My master bids me to tell you we have your woman.

If you wish her return, come to le Ventre de le Diable in Vieux Carre tomorrow night.

If any Lycan should be seen before then, we will kill her.”

Before Gabriel could wrap his hands around the smug vampire’s throat, he leapt into the air and disappeared in the black sky.

“She is one of ours. You cannot face them alone,” Deron said. Muffled agreement followed, excitement building with each passing second.

“Dey seek to slay us once and for all,” Gabriel murmured, watching the sky. The Devil’s Belly.... It was one of the largest resting places of the vamps--that they knew of.

“Tomorrow we take her back and end this,” Deron said, his voice carrying over the crowd.

It was what they had dreaded and waited for--open battle with the vamps. And Jessica would be right in the middle.

“What do you want with me?” Jessica demanded, glancing around surreptitiously for a weapon. The room they were standing in was perhaps twelve foot squared.

The walls floor, even the ceiling seemed to be made of stone. A single door was set into one wall, but the man stood between her and that avenue of escape. The only possibility she could see was a tall candelabra holding a couple of flickering tapers almost within reach.

A faint smile touched the vampire’s bloodless lips. “Why, to eat you, my dear.”

“Very funny,” she said. “Ha ha.”

He showed her his fangs. Jessica felt her heart stand still. “My, what big teeth you have.”

Mordecai smiled thinly. “The better to drink your blood,” he responded wearily, beginning to feel some annoyance at her flippant responses.

“I don’t think so,” she said and leapt toward the candelabra, grabbing it. She discovered she couldn’t lift it.

“It’s bolted to the floor,” Mordecai said dryly.

Not to be outdone, Jessica grabbed the tapers and threw them at him. He raised an arm to shield himself. Once she’d distracted him, she dashed past and threw open the door. Beyond lay utter blackness. She ran down the smotheringly dark corridor, blindly feeling the walls for guidance. Her breath, rasping in and out of her lungs in fear, deafened her to pursuit, but she thought she detected little whispers of sound, like the tiny scurrying feet of rats.

The corridor ended abruptly in what seemed to be a far larger room than the one she had left behind. She couldn’t know that for certain, but she sensed a vast emptiness and damp currents of air swirled through the room.

She paused, catching her breath, trying to listen for any sounds of pursuit. She wasn’t really comforted when she could hear nothing. After a moment, she began fumbling her way through the room, feeling the walls, searching for a door. Her heart leapt when she found one at last. Excitement flooded her when the knob turned under her hand. It was dashed in the next moment when she opened the door and discovered only another corridor--this one lit by a single, flickering torch.

Glancing uneasily behind her, she discovered that the room she had just traversed was filled with coffins.

The hair stood on the back of her neck. Jessica shuddered and strode down the corridor, her shadow casting long before her, melding into the darkness that swarmed the sides of the hall. The corridor turned in a sharp corner and ended with another door, leading into another small, empty room. On one end, heavy velvet drapes covered an opening. Faintly, Jessica could see light filtering through the curtains. Certain that she had discovered a window and the means of escape, she rushed to it, throwing the curtains aside. To her dismay, she discovered the drapes concealed another open doorway.

She was seized by two men the moment the curtains parted. Jessica struggled to free herself, but their hands were as unyielding as manacles around her arms. They dragged her deeper into the room, past huge candelabras filled with lighted tapers.

Ahead of her, she saw a stone throne on a dais. Mordecai was seated on the throne.

He did not look happy.

“Let me go!” she screamed, lifting her feet from the ground, trying to break their hold. They led her inevitably to the dais, unfazed by her continual struggles. They stopped, releasing her to her own feet and stepping back just enough to quash any ideas she’d have of making a run for it.

“What do you want with me?” she asked him again. He’d deliberately allowed her to escape, only for the pleasure of capturing her again--and tormenting.

Mordecai tapped his fingers on the arm of the throne in impatience. “You are not as valuable to me as you seem to think.”

Jessica swallowed. If anything, her situation was worse than she originally thought.

“Then why keep me here?”

The vampire stood, slowly taking a step down and then another, until he was inches from her. “Bait. I seek your Lycan lover ... and others should they be foolish enough to come.”

“He’s dead,” she said, feeling sick with the words. Her mouth felt tainted uttering them. Her heart pinched painfully. “You’re too late.”

“On the contrary. He is coming for you.”

Oh god, no! She would be his downfall. Everything that had happened to them--him--had been because of her. Gabriel would come, and he would die trying to save her.

Mordecai’s hand snaked out and snatched the necklace from her neck. He held the large medallion in his palm. His eyes glittered. “What is this?”

“Protection from werewolves,” she said weakly. What she’d needed was protection from vampires too. She thought wistfully of Mikel’s, brimming with weapons for fighting the undead.

“A useless trinket.” He chuckled, throwing the medallion away. It skittered on the floor and vanished from sight. He caught her with one arm, forcing her against his body, digging his free hand through her hair to grip her scalp. Jessica gasped and tried to fight him, wincing as he discovered the wound she’d sustained earlier. His grip on her hair tightened, forcing her to arch her head deeply to the side.

The blood rushed to her head, pounding with the frightening knowledge of what he was going to do. And there was nothing she could do to stop him. She closed her eyes and screamed when the fangs ravaged her flesh.

* * * *

Gabriel knew before the night was out, many Lycan would die. He regretted it, regretted the necessity of this action, but there was no other choice. If they did not take a stand now, they would be wiped out in their entirety--as a whole at once, or one by one.

By the next evening, when the moon climbed high in the sky like a warped pearl, they were ready.

Some drove to the meeting place, others walked, but all told, over two dozen showed up at Vieux Carre for the showdown. The streets were strangely empty, as though the people sensed something massive was going down.

Their excitement infected the air, crackled between them, connecting them with a hidden energy.

Gabriel led the pack. His rage had not abated in the many hours since first hearing of her abduction. He seethed with fury, angered at himself and them for their daring, so much so that he feared he would be no help to Jessica whatsoever.

They traversed a narrow, dirty alley, keeping watch above for ambush as they made their way to the back of the building. The entrance to the underground was there.

There was a garden in the back, with a fountain as centerpiece, spraying water with a soft gurgle of sound. It appeared tranquil, like the home of some wealthy, upstanding citizen, surrounding by other upstanding neighbors.

Gabriel wondered just how many knew what atrocities went on in the townhouse before them.

A vamp at the back entrance motioned them forward, holding the door open for them. They left a few men behind for backup to go for help should they need it, not that he expected there would be a need. They lived or died, there would be no second chances.