IM02 - Hunters & Prey (15 page)

“So you think you are judge and jury for mortals? You feel you are qualified to decide who lives and dies?”

“Maybe more than some.” I rolled onto my side to get a better view. Fallon still stood in front of me, her hands balled into trembling fists.

Santino took a step forward and Fallon flinched. “Enlighten me then,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“If it weren’t for criminals, I wouldn’t be a vampire.” I glared at him. “So yeah, I think I have grounds to judge some of the evil in society.”

“Fascinating,” Santino huffed. “So you think by killing criminals, you absolve yourself of the crime of murder. Or is it your own personal vendetta? Kill others to make up for crimes committed against you?”

“Things aren’t always so black and white. You know I have to feed—”

“How is murder anything but black or white?”

“You kill your own kind because you feel it is the right thing to do. Is that not murder?”

He looked away. “This is not about me.”

“Oh, but it is. You kill too, you can’t deny that.” I thought I saw a hint of guilt in his eyes. I took the opportunity to press my small advantage. “Your reasons though are to protect humans, right? Well, I kill because I have to, and I choose the dregs of society as my prey, because they would do harm to others. We are not that different, you and I. Our base goal is the same. We both stop criminal elements from harming mortals.”

He gazed down at me with contempt. “You accuse me of being black and white, yet you reduce things to such simplistic terms. I am on a mission; I answer to a higher power. I’m not a monster giving into my urge to feed.”

“I’m not a monster, and I don’t deserve to die,” I yelled.

Santino cracked his knuckles one by one on each hand. The loud
popping
echoed through the room. “That remains to be seen.”

Fallon whimpered. I had almost forgotten she was still there.

“Look, kill me or do whatever it is you’re going to do. I have no strength left to fight you. Quentin bled me out. Just let her go.”

Santino’s eyebrows pulled together, and his lips thinned in a frown. “What did Quentin do?”

“He took my blood.”

His head cocked to the side. “Did he try to drink it?”

“I don’t know what he was doing with it. He used a syringe or something. He had a collection bag.”

“He said he was going to make an army,” Fallon added.

Santino’s hand shot to his forehead. He stepped into the room and paced its length, muttering to himself.

Fallon and I exchanged worried glances. It was clear Santino wasn’t completely aware of Quentin’s plans.

“This is distressing news.” He stopped pacing and turned to me. “How long ago did he leave you?”

“I don’t know,” I said with an exasperated sigh. “I’ve been a little out of it.”

“And did you hear him say he was going to make an army?”

“I did,” Fallon said raising her hand slightly like a child wanting to get a teacher’s attention. “He was asking me if I knew where Alyssa was and said he wanted to create an army to destroy the monsters. He said the Acta Sanctorum was outdated and vampires were becoming too much of a threat.”

Santino pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I brought a vampire here and gave Quentin a fresh supply of blood. Lord, please forgive me for my ignorance.” His voice was no more than a mumble, but I was still able to pick up what he said.

“What’s going on, Santino?” I asked.

“I should have known when he didn’t have me kill you that he was after blood. Exactly how much of it did he take?”

“I don’t know. Whatever fit into that bag. A pint, I think he said.”
Guess he’s not completely ignorant of Quentin’s plans.
“What’s he doing with my blood?”

“Can you get up?” His words were more like an order than a request.

I clenched my muscles, trying to lift myself. Groaning from the strain, I managed to push myself up to a sitting position.

“I’m not going to make it very far without blood. I told you already. Do what you want. Just let Fallon go. She’s an innocent.”

“Quentin never planned to let her go. That is obvious by the fact he brought her in here with you. He wanted you to feed on her, so you would replenish your blood. Which he could then harvest and use for his own means. Get up. We’re leaving.”

“What?” Fallon asked.

My thoughts ran all over the place. I didn’t want death, but I couldn’t figure out why Santino would be offering to take us out of harm’s way. Unless, perhaps, he was planning to take us to some obscure place and finish us off. It was obvious he didn’t want Quentin getting any more of my blood.

“We have to get away from here,” Santino said sharply. “Quentin will expect you to have killed her by now. He’ll be back soon, for more blood.”

I groaned. My muscles were weak and unresponsive. I tried again to push myself up. My legs gave out and I collapsed back to the ground. “I’m not going anywhere without blood.”

“You have a donor,” Santino said, pointing at Fallon.

Fallon gasped. The color drained from her face.

As tempting as it was, I hadn’t fought all this time just to use her for blood to escape. “I’m not harming her,” I said, determined, though the monster inside of me was begging for a taste.

One of Santino’s eyebrows rose sharply. “What?”

A pained expression crossed Fallon’s face. “Can you do it without killing me?”

“That’s not the point. I have to make you—” I looked at Fallon, then Santino. “Both of you understand I’m not evil. I’m not feeding from Fallon. I’ll die before I do that. I’m not a monster.”

“I know you aren’t,” Fallon said as she knelt down beside me. “I don’t understand all of this, but I know you’re still Alyssa, my friend.” She placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“No.” I shook my head. It was so hard to fight when she was right there offering it to me. “I won’t drink from you. You might say you understand, but things would never be the same afterwards.”

“You don’t have a choice. Quentin will just use you if I leave you here. Now feed!” Santino demanded.

“No! I’m not feeding off my friend.”

Santino growled and squatted down, eye level with me. “We don’t have time for this.” He pushed Fallon aside and held out his wrist in offering. “I don’t need you falling behind. Drink, damn it.”

My eyes grew wide. “What the hell? Why are you doing this?”

“We don’t have time. Drink.” Santino barked the words at me.

A hate-filed expression marked his face. Stone cold eyes met mine, confirming how much he despised me. I never expected my survival to rest in the hands of my worst enemy, but here he was, offering me his blood. He must have really wanted us to get away to be making this kind of an offer. I struggled to lift my arms and take his wrist.

Shutting out my thoughts, I bared my fangs and sank them deep into his arm. Santino neither flinched nor made any sound of pain. He knelt there, rigid as a statue, as I fed. His blood flooded my mouth: sweet, tingling, and intense. I drew hard at the wound, swallowing gulps of the refreshing liquid. Pure energy surged through me as I drank. His blood was powerful, like drinking from Lysander. I could taste his age and strength.

“That’s enough.” Santino shook me off of his arm, sending me crashing back to the floor. “Get up.”

Euphoria momentarily disoriented me. My heart pumped hard and fast, renewed by the powerful blood circulating in my system. It rushed through my veins, rejuvenating me, strengthening me.

I wobbled getting up, my head buzzing as if I were high from a drug. Wiping the blood off my face, I let out a sigh of pure pleasure. It took a moment to recover from the initial rush.

Fallon cowered and backed away from me.

“Sorry,” I said, trying to calm her fear. I could see my recent feeding had frightened her. Not that I blamed her. It must be a terrible sight. “You see now why I couldn’t do this to you?”

Fallon didn’t respond. She covered her mouth with her hand as if trying to hide her repulsion.

“Move, you two,” Santino ordered as he walked to the door.

He held it open and looked out into the hallway. “Stay close and listen to what I say. Don’t fall behind.”

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Out of here; that is all you need know. We need to leave undetected. Quentin is a special human. He can sense things, like we can. Listen and do exactly as I say.”

He stepped through the doorway, into the hall, holding up his hand in a military fashion, as if to tell us to stop. I listened carefully. My preternatural hearing, just like Santino’s, would be able to pick up the sounds of people from far away. Fallon, on the other hand, would be limited by her human senses.

Santino’s blood coursed through my veins, building up an energy inside me, ready to be called on if the time were right. I hoped we wouldn’t need to fight our way out, but I was ready if we did.

Fallon stood rigidly still, keeping a noticeable distance from me. I had tried to make her understand, and even thought she had, but apparently the sight of my feeding had been too much for her. She was back to acting as if I were a monster. I’d reassure her later. Now, escape was the most important thing.

I inched closer to her and the doorway, ready to move at Santino’s signal. The hallway was quiet now. No sound of anyone; guards, soldiers, or Saints.

Thank goodness. Quentin must be pretty sure of himself to have not placed guards at the door.

“Move out,” Santino whispered. He waved his hand toward the hallway.

We moved silently, darting out into the hall, staying close to the wall. I kept my steps in time with Santino’s to mask the sound. The old building was suspiciously empty; nothing more than barren, drab, concrete hallways with locked doors. There wasn’t a guard in sight.

“Where is everyone?” I whispered.

“I’m not sure. Quentin has been having secret meetings lately. Perhaps he is having one now.”

“Why aren’t you there?”

“I’m not a favorite anymore,” he said curtly.

I was starting to wonder what was going on in the ranks of the Acta Sanctorum, if the most feared hunter in history was being excluded from secret organization meetings.

We stopped at the intersection of two hallways. Santino closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. I copied him, breathing in the air, searching for unfamiliar scents. A mortal was nearby, but it wasn’t Fallon I smelled. I detected the aroma of a male. His scent was odd: a thick, caramel-like odor that wafted in from my left.

“This way,” Santino ordered, taking off down the hall to our right.

I followed close behind.

“Ugh,” Fallon groaned.

A soft
thud
hit the ground. I turned in time to see her scrambling back up to her feet. Behind her, further down the hallway, a man in a dark uniform turned and spotted us.

My enhanced sight picked up on strange details, telling me there was something wrong with him. His eyes had a bloody, veiny appearance. His face was thick and bloated. He let out a scream as loud as a banshee and moved clumsily toward us.

Fallon screamed and tripped over her feet as she passed me at a sprint to catch up to Santino.

I stood, dumfounded. The man yelled incoherent insults, flailing his arms as he ran toward us. A line of drool dripped from the corner of his mouth. Elongated fangs poked out from behind his lips.

“Is he one of yours, Santino?” I asked.

Something was off about this guy. His scent was human. His skin was dark, and his eyes were a bloody red, not the faded blue-grey of a vampire; but he had fangs. Long ones. I’d never met anything like him before. I’d run into Saints before. That was the code name for the vampires employed by the Acta Sanctorum. But they were never this crazed. Like Santino, they were brainwashed to be perfect killing machines, for vampires. But they never attacked humans. The way this man advanced on both me and Fallon was a serious red flag, going against everything I understood about this organization.

Before I had the chance to turn and run, the strange man shrieked again and barreled straight at me tackling me to the ground. He slammed punches into my torso. I grunted with each painful impact. Throwing my arms up in defense, I did my best to block his assault, but he was fast, like a vampire. I could barely keep up. He pummeled me with rock-hard fists as if I were a speed bag. As soon as I blocked a punch, he delivered another and another to my head and chest. I twisted and thrashed beneath him, trying desperately to find a way to get him off me.

He screamed unidentifiable words at me like a man on the verge of a complete mental breakdown giving in to the insanity. Saliva dripped from his mouth and his red eyes dilated, looking like black holes surrounded with red spider web veins.

Santino appeared above us. He ripped the man off me, sending him crashing into a nearby wall.

“Go on ahead. I’ll take care of him. Just keep running straight down the hallway. I’ll meet you outside.” I caught a hint of worry in his voice.