Hunger Untamed H3 (10 page)

The moment the words left her mouth, Lucy deflated. As if unable to hold herself up any longer, Lucy fell onto her side. She dragged her legs toward her abdomen, curled herself into a ball and began to sob.

He’d heard women cry before, the heart-wrenching keening of someone who’d lost a child or a spouse. The piteous wails of someone going through loss and who felt abandoned and alone. Even her brokenhearted weeping earlier didn’t match the depth of emotion in Lucy right now. This was worse. So much worse.

Like most men, he hated to hear a woman cry, the sounds reminding him too much of his helplessness in easing her pain. His first instinct had always been to leave her to her grief, maybe come back after she’d poured out her sorrow.

It slew him to listen to Lucy and because he was growing to like her,
really
like her, he waited. He respected the hell out of a human who wanted to take down a vampire for a wrong. In particular, he admired her for knowing she faced an almost insurmountable task, yet she pressed on.

Eventually though, Victor grabbed her by the flimsy T-shirt and tucked another arm beneath her legs. Lucy poured her heart out as he hauled her into his hold, picked her up and carried her toward the house. He expected a small amount of protest or fight, but her raw grief left her vulnerable at the moment.

She clung to him, and the feel of her hand pressed against his heart made his abdomen tighten. Until now, he hadn’t appreciated how fragile she truly was. She weighed next to nothing, and her skin was so soft and delicate. The amount of strength and determination in her to go after Sage must have been awesome.

When he sat down on the bed a few minutes later, he struggled with his next decision. While his mind instructed him to release her onto the comfort of the mattress, his hands kept her tight against him. Where he could feel the brittle beat of her heart.

The cold trickle of her tears against his skin stoked a quiet rage within him. He would sit here and hold her for however long she needed, and he would wait. He would, because if he didn’t hear what happened, sit back and assess their next steps, he would defy the werewolves and confront Sage himself.

To keep himself from doing just that, Victor began to sweep his lips over Lucy’s temple. If he kissed her mouth or cheeks and tasted the bitterness of her tears, he didn’t know if his common sense would be able to overrule his impulse. So, he kissed where it was safe.

Eventually, the shaking of her shoulders and the uncontrolled gasps subsided. She shifted in his hold, nestling against him. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but Lucy brushed her lips against his jaw, then chin. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“Tell me,” he said softly.

She wiped beneath her nose with a hand, then took a deep breath. A barely perceptible nod followed. “A vampire noticed us, me and my sister, and we were brought into the blood slave’s life. The best of everything. Money, no object.”

He knew this already but refused to interrupt her. This was her story to tell in whatever manner she needed.

“At first, it seemed like a dream. A lot of people could look down on what we did, but a lot more should be jealous. In the early years, we only had to be a vessel and supply a vampire his food. Later, when we were of age, sexual indulgences were included.” Her voice grew softer. “My first vampire lover was so gentle with me. He knew I was afraid and a virgin and he took his time. He made sure the experience was memorable. Special. All of them during those early years, in fact. They were always nice to me.”

“What changed?”

“About a year ago, we were introduced to a new set of patrons.” Her face hardened, deadly intent in her eyes.

“Sage.”

“One of them. He and his cadre weren’t satisfied with the way things had been done. Tradition was passé, and vampires deserved more than what had been given to them in the past.”

Victor wasn’t surprised to hear this. As one of the Council, Sage would have wanted a change in vampire thinking, but at its most fundamental, the Council had been created to uphold the basic vampire traditions. The contradiction wasn’t lost on a lot of the community.

“According to them,” Lucy continued, “there was a way to heighten the experience of feeding. They’d already been doing it in other parts of the world and wanted to introduce it to us here.”

“Feeding can be one of the most intimate, highly sexualized activities two people can participate in. Beyond introducing an individual’s fetish, how could it ever become more?”

“By enhancing our blood, the blood of a slave. By making it an almost addictive substance. By making blood so potent in the way it aroused and empowered a vampire, his lust for it almost superseded everything else.”

“
Christ.
”

“My master said no. Not yet. He didn’t agree. Didn’t want to damage the product he’d spent almost twenty years perfecting. He was a good man. But to this day, I don’t understand how the contract worked. How we were loaned to Sage for his pleasure.”

Victor knew from his early years a little of how a blood slave could be passed from one owner to another. Only the wealthiest and most venerable of vampires owned them, their wellbeing something most owners took extreme pride in. “Sage would have had to agree to your protection. Dishonoring that type of contract is unheard of, so I’m not sure I’m following how he could have dismissed it.”

She began to trail her finger over a vein in his forearm. “You know about spice?”

An addictive drug to vampires. Outlawed. “Yes.”

“Somehow they figured out that if they fed spice to humans, letting us serve as a filter for it, the addiction was muted. The sensation and the rush were still there, but no one would kill or steal for a hit. No nasty withdrawal effects to deal with. The cravings, all of the bad stuff about spice, gone.”

“The best of us, the oldest and most elite of us, they wanted this transformed spice for themselves. So they used you, they used the blood slaves to deliver it.”

“Yes.”

“Sage did this.” Not a question, but a horrified statement.

“I didn’t meet him until much later on, but yes. He took an instant liking to Cindy, who is—was—much prettier than I am.”

He squeezed her closer. No matter what she said, he couldn’t believe that could ever be possible.

“We didn’t know anything about it,” Lucy said.

“It wouldn’t affect you the way it does us.”

“It was in our food for months. Cindy first, because she’d been the one sent to Sage more often than not. It’s why she got sick first, I guess. Why she...she...”

“Damn it,” Victor muttered. He slackened his grip on her for the moment because a crushing violent wave made his vision go red. “And now you’re sick in the same way. What have the doctors said?”

“Nothing to be done but keep me comfortable.” Such overwhelming bitterness in her voice. “I’ll die soon.”

He rejected the thought because there was always a way. He didn’t have a lot of money, but he sure as hell knew a lot of people. The ones who didn’t already owe him a favor would find having a merc who owed them one very useful indeed. “How much time do we have?”

“Based on Cindy, a month. Maybe two, if I’m lucky. I don’t know... If I’m careful with my health, maybe I can stretch it out longer than that. It’s hard to know or tell.”

“Oh, doll,” he murmured.

“This changes nothing. I won’t back out of our deal. I’m still your blood slave until Sage is disposed of.”

“I know. And when I’m ready for it, you’ll deliver on your promise.”

She drew back far enough to look him in the eyes. Brow furrowed, she said, “But not tonight?”

“Not tonight. Tonight you rest, and tomorrow, we take it easier—”

“But—”

“
Easier
. We don’t exacerbate your condition, but you get the training you need.” He understood her need for vengeance and knew the futility of offering to find another way. Her business with Sage was personal, and she’d need to see it to its end herself.

And if for some reason Lucy couldn’t complete the task, for her, Victor would. He wouldn’t look too hard at how fast he’d started falling for her. What had begun as a way to get his dick wet, now...now he’d help her. He’d make sure she got Sage.

In deep and, stupid him, loving it.

Chapter Ten

Crust had formed on her eyelids and cheeks during her sleep, remnants from waking up multiple times, only to cry herself back to fitful slumber. She was so tired, yet it felt as if a weight had been lifted. Carrying the burden of Cindy’s death had taken more of a toll than she’d realized.

Every time she’d woken, Victor had been there to talk her through the grief. No matter the lateness of the hour, he’d been alert. “What did your handler say about Cindy’s death?” he’d asked at one point.

“
Regrettable
, but that’s all he said.” He’d been good to them, but he served the vampires. If one of his human pets couldn’t survive the rigors of that life—no matter how valuable she’d been to him in service—he’d write off the loss and collect another treasure to replace her. Which was exactly what he’d done.

By the time the sun set, she’d told Victor more about her childhood and the sister she missed so terribly than she’d ever intended. The thing about talking to Victor was that he didn’t offer platitudes, nor did his eyes glaze over. He listened attentively, interjecting with questions or commentary or staying silent. By the time she’d stopped talking, her throat was parched. Her tears had long since dried.

“Time to get to work,” he said after she’d started to drift to sleep again. It must have been at least the dozenth time.

They’d settled into a comfortable configuration yet again, his thigh wedged between hers. His arm bracketed her breast, the hold of a lover familiar with his partner’s body. When he spoke, his throat near her ear made for a lulling low-pitched sound that could have soothed another person to sleep again. Probably why she kept nodding off. Until now.

Lucy jerked awake. “What?” He
had
been listening, right? He knew she’d had almost no sleep, and not even adrenaline would get her through another hour.

“A month. Two maybe, you’d said. We could stay here in bed, letting time and life pass us by, ignoring the fact that you’ll be growing steadily weaker every day. We could do that and kiss and fuck and tell everything outside these walls to go to hell. It’d be really easy, doll, I know it.
Or
—we keep in sight the fact that you’re growing steadily weaker every day. And Sage is already stronger than you are. And that time isn’t your friend. We could stay in bed or we can get outside, train and get you ready as soon as fucking possible so that you can go after the bastard who devastated your family.”

Lucy’s heart seized at the fierceness of his words. The utter truth behind his statements. The fatigue threatening to drown her hours ago lifted as absolute determination to see her task through to the end became foremost once again. “Fine,” she mumbled. “But I don’t have to like it.”

“You don’t like the idea of doing the work, you’re going to hate it by the time you’re done.”

“Tough day ahead of me?”

“Brutal,” he confirmed.

“Do I get to kick your ass?”

“I’m counting on it, though I doubt it. You still kind of suck.”

She smiled, perhaps for the first time in what felt like years. She appreciated that he wasn’t trying to turn her mood around but remained his typical taciturn self. If she found humor in his grumpiness, so much the better. “Did you forget that I managed to tag you on the first try?”

“Beginner’s luck.” He stretched as he said it and for some unknown reason, Lucy turned to watch him. Her response was immediate and visceral.

Victor’s body made something in her belly drop low, a simmering heat setting up shop in its place. Watching the eroticism of his muscles, the masculine edge of his body hair, made her so very aware of the beating of her own heart. The slowly elevating pace of her pulse.

“You could have lied to me, you know,” she said, still enjoying the view. “I’d had no idea that I’d tagged you, and you told me anyway.”

“A deal’s a deal. I might be just a merc, but I don’t go back on my deals, ever.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He never ceased to amaze her. He might consider himself
just
a merc, but she knew this man was so much more.

She feasted her eyes on him, devouring such an exquisite physique. The instinct to curl around him, sliding her foot over his skin, throbbed inside her. In this little cabin where they stayed tucked away out of sight of everyone and avoiding responsibilities, she could easily forget she wasn’t sick.

But what about him? What did he forego to assist her pursuit? “Tell me something,” she said softly, still wanting to keep the mood. “If you weren’t here with me now, what would you be doing?”

“Another job, probably. Just getting some funding to get by.”

It dawned on her how little she knew about him. “Is that enough? Just getting by?”

“Ain’t like you. Don’t need to be in the lap of luxury. I’ve got simple tastes and simple needs. Just need enough money to pay the mortgage—”

“You own?” She didn’t know why that surprised her.

“A three-two. Nothing fancy. It gives me a place to sleep undisturbed.”

“Next you’ll tell me it’s got a white picket fence and a flowering magnolia tree in the front yard.”

“Crabapple.”

She smiled again, a new and lovely habit she could grow used to. “You are a lesson in contrasts and so unlike every vampire I’ve ever met.”

“Those vampires,” he said with dripping disdain, “live in nothing but excesses. They don’t know what it’s like to hunt for the basics. Food, shelter, love.”

Lucy stilled, the simmering hatred a shock to her senses. “But I thought all vampires were wealthy. You live such long lives. As a community, you band together. You have
each other
.”

“If you aren’t an outcast,” he growled. “If you aren’t rich or powerful or beautiful, then you’re an outcast. Left to struggle through life, feeding off untouchables or stray animals. No community, and the ones who used to know you can’t even look at your face anymore. A pariah.”

Ice dripped from every word, and for the first time since meeting Victor, she almost pulled away from him. She knew he could be a violent man, the nature of his job demanded it, but his emotional distance meant it was business and not personal. Now, though...now she saw personal.

She twisted in his hold, her hand smoothing over his arm to settle the roiling emotion. Victor turned incredibly shadowed eyes toward her though and removed himself from her touch. Somehow she’d stumbled on a deeply sore spot with him and she had no idea the cause of it—or how to fix it.

“I—I should get ready,” she stammered. She’d never considered a caste system among the beautiful creatures of the night, but she should have known better.

“Yeah,” he said darkly.

Lucy watched him leave their warm bed, her heart shredded by the hurt radiating from him. When she’d first met Victor, she’d found her gaze straying toward his disfigurement. Her brow furrowed as now she realized she didn’t notice it anymore. Before their first kiss, she’d wondered how it would feel, if he had to compensate. If anything, the heat behind their kisses made her forget the fault and focus on more important matters. The paralysis didn’t define him, but was a mundane part of his anatomy. Not important at all.

She slid out of bed with a heavy heart. Wanting to stay there and explore more about Victor and the man he’d become. But he had a point. Time was not her friend.

By the time she joined him outside, he was pacing. A caged tiger.

“We’ll skip getting physical for now. Give you a chance to heal from yesterday,” Victor announced. “So tonight’s lesson will be all about fighting dirty.”

She perked, relieved to hear the normality in his tone rather than the fury she’d sensed previously. “You mean like showing my tits?”

He grinned. “If that’ll give you five more seconds alive, then yeah. Show your tits, your legs, get buck naked if you have to. You’re good, stronger than I gave you credit for, but it won’t be enough.”

She’d been about to drop into fighting stance, but his comment startled her. “You think I’m good?”

“Think that’s what I said.”

“But—but what about the other stuff? You said I was weak and kinda sucked.”

“And you are.” He grinned. “And maybe a little white lie.”

“You also said...” She trailed off, unable to recall anything specific. “You
implied
I didn’t have a chance.”

“You don’t.”

“Oh.”

“Which is exactly why if you get the chance to throw dirt, you throw it. His shoelace untied? Step on it. He’s looking left, you fucking punch him on the right side.”

She’d take the half-assed compliment. “Alright, show me what I need to know.”

They worked for hours, at a less rigorous pace for certain, but grueling nonetheless. Sparring until she couldn’t lift her arms, jabs to the eyes, punches to the throat. Lucy kicked at his groin with feet and knees, taking advantage of the male anatomy. She learned to target his kidneys, pretend-slamming fists into the sensitive areas.

He made her think through every action, not so much as taking a step without being able to justify it. Victor made everything an opportunity. Everything.

A stake through the heart was the only way to kill a vampire, but she could sure as shit maim one until that critical moment.

“Ears are vulnerable. Consider them your personal handles to torture.” Victor not only expected her to jab things in them, an idea that made her wince, but attempt to rip them off altogether. “You’re turning green on me, Lucy. You in it to win it?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, fighting down rising bile.

“Then show me.”

Lucy went after his ears. His eyes. In a moment of desperation, she punched out, fingers curling into his hair. Victor narrowed his eyes after she grabbed hold, then purposely threw his head back. She inwardly cringed as her hand was left aloft, a sizable tuft of hair clenched inside.

“Pretty much useless,” he grumbled before mock-chopping her across the throat in retaliation. “Stings for a bit, but it only buys you a second or two. Dirty means vulnerable areas. Hair isn’t vulnerable. Got it?”

“But I could use his hair to pull his face down, jab up with two fingers into his eyes, right?”

His lips curved into a semi-smile. “Ooh, baby. Now you’re just trying to turn me on.”

Lucy laughed.

* * *

He had to give her credit. No matter how much torture he sent her way, Lucy kept fighting. She didn’t complain, listening attentively to the advice and instruction he gave. Even during the down times, when he expected her to collapse into a heap, she bit her lower lip and kept pushing forward.

Victor tried to think back to the early days and what he knew about blood slaves. In the past, he’d been so engrossed with indulging himself in them, in what they offered, it would have never crossed his mind to discover who they were. If they had dreams or aspirations. Family.

Hearing about Lucy’s sister at once made him ashamed. They’d been put into service at a young age, which was regrettable. Treated well, anything else would have been uncivilized. But they’d been exposed to spice. Unheard of.

“Come here and put your back to me,” he said after she started breathing heavily. “Show me how you’d break out of my hold.”

He’d thought she faced an impossible task before he’d found out about this illness. Indecision ate at him now that he knew more.

While there was breath still in Lucy’s body, she would feel the driving need to put Sage to ground herself. Still...

“You never did ask me about my fees.”

Her breathing became less labored, but he could see a flush to her cheeks as she struggled to remove his grip to her shoulder. His forearm pressed against her carotid, the chokehold meant to bring her down in a matter of minutes if she didn’t break free. “Didn’t give me a chance.”

Victor gave her an estimate for killing Sage. When she went still, slack in his arms, he couldn’t be certain she hadn’t passed out. Whether from the chokehold or from shock, or maybe a combination of both, he wouldn’t wager on. “Is that in
dollars
?” she squeaked.

“U.S. You got it.” Hell, he’d thrown in a friends-and-family discount.

“Obviously, I went into the wrong business. Thought you said you’re not rich?”

“I ain’t rich. Step here and get that leg behind mine,” he instructed. After she’d positioned herself into a better position to get free, he brought them back to his original intent for bringing up a potential contract. “What I am is changing my mind. You come up with the money, you can hire me for the job. Might not get it done in the timeframe you’re looking for, but I’ll get it done.”

If he’d learned one thing about Lucy, she had pride by the barrelful. There was no way she’d accept his help for free. While she still had the option to choose, he’d offer her a contract the way she’d wanted in the first place. This way, she wouldn’t refuse him.

Lucy kneed him behind his thigh, forcing his knee to give and alter his hold. At the same time, she yanked her head from between his crooked arm. As he stumbled, she punched out, almost making contact with his throat.

They worked in unison, Victor expecting every move she made, but her execution sent a jolt of pride into him. From the way Lucy grinned up at him, she was pretty pleased with herself too. Her brow furrowed though as his words apparently sank in. “You want the job now?”

“Yeah, I’ll take it.”

“What’s changed?” A new edge crept into her voice.

“I think I can make it work. I have other obligations at the moment, but afterward, I think I could take your job.”

She shook her head, lips tight. “Don’t lie to me. That’s not what’s changed. What’s changed is you don’t think I can do it.”

“I never thought you could.” He’d never disillusioned her about that.

It must have been the wrong thing to say, because color crept into Lucy’s face. “Nice,” she grumbled before storming away. She shot him a perfect view of her middle finger, a storm cloud forming in her wake.

He stared after her, torn.
What just happened?
Was she under some sort of delusion that she, a human with a deadly illness, could defeat a hundreds-year-old vampire? When had he ever encouraged that? Sure, he indulged this obsession with Sage and would teach her how to defend herself against him, but to believe anything more could happen was folly.