Rise of the Fae (7 page)

He smiled and glanced down at her hand.

“Has anyone ever told you that for a human your scent is amazing?” Riley asked.

She feigned a demure downward glance. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He leaned in and sniffed her. When he looked at her again, his eyes sparkled. “You smell like vanilla and cinnamon.”

Okay this was a bit too close for comfort. She had no intention of becoming dinner.

“So how many humans were found in Danika’s warehouse?” She took a step back.

He blinked several times and cleared his throat. “A lot. I don’t know exactly how many, but right now we have about a dozen here. They’re training to become guardian minions for Vampires.”

“How interesting.” If she could find out more about Danika and Mason, she might be able to find a way in. “So, Danika didn’t know about these humans?”

“No. It was going on behind her back. Her uncle Chase and a lord named Garon who runs Las Vegas were the ones in charge.”

“So what happened to her uncle and Lord Garon?”

“Garon is back in Las Vegas, probably hiding out while awaiting his sentence from the three kings. Chase? No clue. He disappeared the night we raided the warehouse and hasn’t been seen since.”

“Riley!”

Riley whipped around. Neeman stood in the doorway.

“You should ready yourself. We leave in ten.”

Riley glanced at Selene, then nodded to Neeman and strode out. Neeman’s gaze stayed on Selene.

“What?” she asked.

“I told you to stay away from my men.”

“I’m in my own room. He came to me. Are you telling me I can’t even talk to anyone if they come in my room?”

“No.”

“No, that’s not what you’re saying? Or no, I can’t talk to anyone?”

“No, you can’t talk to anyone.”

“Are you serious?”

His expression told her he was.

He stepped into the room and closed the door. “Look, Selene. You shouldn’t be here. Here in the compound. Here on this plane. You have an effect on men and you’re very good at it. So I want you to keep away from my trackers, got it?”

She stepped up nose to nose with him. “So let me get this straight. I have an ‘effect’ on you and you don’t like it, so I can’t talk to anyone?”

His jaw clenched.

She threw her hands in the air. “Hey, I’m sorry I stir you in the nether regions and you don’t like it. But you have no right to tell me I can’t be friendly because you can’t handle yourself. Or is it just our little sparring session scared you into realizing you aren’t the strongest beings on this plane anymore?”

His muscles bunched and his expression hardened. A shiver ran through her. She might have actually crossed the line this time. Her heartbeat quickened and her gut twisted. What was wrong with her? It was being cooped up and the voice in her head. She needed to get out, to reenergize and be with people. Real people. Being in the compound was almost as bad as being shut up in the fae realm.

She closed her eyes and blew out a long breath. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said. “I…I didn’t mean that. Okay, I did mean it. And I’m sorry about in the arena. Most guys like it when I— I’m sorry. How many times do I have to say it?”

He stared at her.

“Look.” How did she explain? How did she tell him the truth? “I’ve been cooped up for the past twenty-five years in a world where I was shunned. You don’t know what it’s like there with the fae. Sure it’s beautiful and peaceful and nice, but do I look like the kind of girl who wants peaceful and nice? Coming back here was a godsend. The music, the lights, the food, the people, I love it all. But I get here and everything is different and I can’t even go outside to see it! I’m stuck down here, underground, being kept from view like I have been forever. And I thought we could have a bit of fun. Obviously I was wrong, and I’m sorry.” So that was a load of feelings she hadn’t meant to spew out.

His stance relaxed and he kneaded his forehead with his fingers. “I can see where that would be frustrating.”

“Frustrating? I feel—”

“Do you ever shut up?” His intense gaze made her close her mouth. He sighed. “I was going to say, I understand how frustrating it is to have to hide away. To not be able to do what you want, be who you want. I get it. I live it and have lived it for fifty plus years. I’m a vampyr, not a Vampire. I wasn’t born this way, I was bitten and not by choice, so I get it. But you have to understand. I don’t like games. That little stunt you pulled in the arena, immobilizing me. That was all fun and games to you, but in the future, you should know, if you ever plan on using that on someone else, it better be to kill them. Because if not, then as soon as you let them go, they’re going to kill you. That feeling of complete helplessness, that’s not something other Vampires or vampyr are going to take lightly.”

His phone buzzed and he turned to leave. “I have to go.”

“Where?” She took a step after him. She hadn’t meant to sound so desperate. He was the only person she could talk to and now he was leaving as well?

“I have a run to make, but I’ll be back in a few hours at the most. When I get back we’ll do something…fun.”

She smiled and then frowned. “What’s the catch?”

“You have to stay here.” He pointed to the floor. “In here. This room, while I’m gone.”

She bit her cheek. That was a tall order. “Okay. But, what kind of fun?”

“You decide. We’ll do whatever you want.”

She clapped her hand. “Seriously? Okay, this is going to be awesome.”

He shook his head and chuckled.

“What now?” She huffed.

“No one says ‘awesome’ anymore.”

“Really? What do they say?”

“Sick.”

“Sick?” Strange word. “Okay then it’s going to be ‘sick.’”

“Here.” He pulled something from his pocket and tossed it to her.

“A phone! Sick! Now I just need to find someone to call.” She turned the smooth object over in her hands.

“My number is programmed in there. Just hit the green phone button and go to contacts and then hit the phone button again and it’ll call me. I also put music and games on there for you so you can waste some time.”

“Is Mason’s number in here?”

His expression hardened again.

What had she said?

“Not yet. Until he gives me permission, only mine is in there.”

Damn. If she could just talk to him.

He tossed her a cord. “You’ll need to charge it so the batteries don’t run out. I’ll be back soon.”

“Neeman?” A flutter ran through her. She hadn’t been given a gift in years. “Thank you,” she finally said.

He looked at her for another minute, then nodded and closed the door.

* * * *

Neeman headed to his room. He’d gotten the address for the area of the sighting and told Riley and Stephos to prepare to leave. He needed to prepare as well.

A door opened to his right. “Neeman. A moment?” asked Riley.

Neeman halted.

“I wondered if maybe we could bring a couple of the humans along for the run.”

“No.” That was the last thing he needed.

“Hear me out. I know you think they aren’t ready, but I’ve heard them talk. They want to get out of here. They want to test their skills in a real environment. This should be an easy mission with three of us there. Let me pick two, just two. I’ll keep them out of the way and make sure they don’t bother you.”

Riley had a point. They needed to test their skills and he needed to see what they could do. But he didn’t even know what they were going into or what they might face.

“You take one of them, only one, in a separate vehicle. I don’t want them with me.”

Riley smiled. “Great. I’ll keep them out of the way. I promise.”

“No. You need to treat them like they’re one of us. I can’t afford to have you splitting your attention. They can either hack it, or they can’t.”

“They can. And I’ll be all there for the squad.”

Neeman nodded. “All right. Tell them we leave in five.”

Riley jogged down the hall toward the human wing.

Neeman continued to his room and opened the door. The sweet smell of lavender hit him. He stiffened briefly and then relaxed at the familiar scent.

“Hello.” The female rose from the bed and turned to face him.

“I don’t have much time this evening. I have to go on a run.”

“We can be quick.” Her starched white shirt and black skirt looked clean as ever. Her brown eyes and brown hair were a perfect match.

He’d never asked her name. He didn’t need to know.

“Sit.” He gestured to the chair at his desk.

She sat where she was told.

She’d been coming to him for close to a decade. An arrangement he’d set up with Clive, the owner of the slave auction house. Clive sent a slave to the compound twice a week for Neeman’s use. In return, Neeman paid him well, and had taken care of more than a couple problems for him. Now that Clive would be leaving though, he would need to make other arrangements. He couldn’t focus on that now.

Neeman crossed to his closet and pulled out his old wooden box. Entering the combination, he then removed the lock and set it on the floor. He ran his fingers over the design on the lid of the chest, which he’d stolen from the Vampire who’d turned him. Killing the Vampire hadn’t been as cathartic as Neeman had spent years anticipating it would be.

He opened the lid and grabbed the goblet and knife from inside. They’d been gifts from his mentor and the previous head of the Tracking Squad, Roth. Roth had been a true friend. Still was, though since he’d become a slaver they hadn’t spoken much.

Neeman stood and handed the goblet and knife to the girl. She set them on the desk, pulled out a bandage from her purse, and sat it alongside.

She never questioned Neeman about his methods, never asked for more, never resisted. And Neeman appreciated that.

When she’d arranged the items the way she wanted them, she looked up at Neeman and nodded. He returned the nod, headed into the bathroom, and closed the door.

He glanced in the mirror at his reflection and was disgusted by what he saw. His ice blue eyes were not his own. He’d been born with deep blue eyes. Sapphire suns, his mother had called them. The bumps under his top lip were where his ever-present canines hung low in his mouth.

How could he be what he was, he asked himself for the millionth time. Every evening, he rose and told himself tonight would be the night he’d end it all. But every night passed and he still stood. Like a coward.

Neeman took a deep breath and shook his head. He looked at the time on his phone. He wanted to open the door to see if she was finished, but couldn’t take the chance of slipping. This was his ritual. This was how he had to do it. He owed it to the humans still living.

The memory flooded him. Sneaking into the mansion where Brodrick, the Vampire who’d turned him, stayed. Waiting for the monster in the gentlemen’s study, which smelled of expensive cigars. Bloodlust slamming into him, weakening his limbs and leaving him heavy and dull because he’d refused to feed. The agony in his limbs, like being stabbed with a thousand needles.

But then the door had opened and Brodrick had entered, talking on the phone. The texture of the wooden knife handle cut into Neeman’s palm, his hands shaking as he waited to strike. Brodrick’s brown eyes widened in terror when he saw Neeman and recognition dawned on his face before—

A soft knock on the bathroom door pulled Neeman from his memories. He blew out a breath and scrubbed his hands over his face.

Composing himself, he stepped back into his room. The girl was gone but the goblet and clean knife sat on the desk.

He crossed to the goblet, his body humming with need. He picked it up and sniffed. The scent of lavender wafted off the rich crimson liquid. His fangs throbbed for the taste. The pain shot up the nerve endings in his face and over his scalp. He held back, refusing to give in to his baser nature. Control, he needed control. He was in charge, not the appetite.

His gut clenched like a dried piece of lumber. His head throbbed and his eyesight blurred. He took a sip. The taste lingered on his tongue, bold and beautiful. He savored the flavor, letting it pool and roll across his tongue like a fine wine.

Who was he kidding?

Gripping the goblet so tight he feared he’d break it, he drained the glass in two gulps. Strength rushed through him at the influx of nutrients. Like electricity flowing through wires, the blood rushed through him, replenishing his sapped energy stores. He tipped the goblet and sucked down the last drops before rinsing it in the sink and heading to his wooden box.

He weighed the familiar knife in his hand before setting it in the box. The sensation of stabbing Brodrick over and over and over, so many times he’d lost count, ran through him. He set the goblet next to it. His gaze travelled to his treasured photographs.

That wasn’t the photo that should have been on top.

He took out the pictures and thumbed through them. They were in order, but the top three were in the back. He tried to remember when he’d last looked through them. He couldn’t.

“Neeman, are you ready?” asked Riley, from outside his door.

He organized the photos before locking the box and setting it back in his closet.

“Coming.”

Neeman pulled out of what was left of the Navy Pier into what was once called Streeterville and headed south toward Chicago Heights. The southernmost part of Chicago city now, but not even close to being the edge of Chicago territory.

The territory Danika lorded over stretched from North Dakota to Oklahoma, over to Kentucky and up to Michigan. Of all the areas in what was left of the United States, it was the smallest, population-wise. No Vampires lived in most of the states, unless they were trying to keep under the radar. And a lot of the hotter and colder places housed only small encampments of human refugees fleeing from the Vampire rule.

In the years since the awakening when Vampires and vampyr had come out of hiding, he still hadn’t become used to driving around in the open. But with the wars and then the outbreak turning the majority of humans into vamps, he was actually considered a leader of sorts in the country. He went where he wanted with only Danika and the three kings to answer to. He’d never been that powerful before. As a human, he’d been a firefighter. The women loved it and he’d loved the thrill.