The Hunt (21 page)

I grasp soft moss and my
fingernails dig into the moist soil beneath. “Holy shit, people! Can no one else see this?”

The frantic thumping in my chest must be my heart, but damned if it’s beat like this since I turned two months ago. A quick scan of the faces surrounding me reveals they are seeing what I’m seeing. Drew’s mouth hangs open and he’s staring around in wonder. Jon sits cradling an arm to his injured side with an amused look on his face, aware, but not scared. Asa observes it all, silent; surprise etching his features but he remains composed. Rafe looks concerned and has eyes only for his wife.

They are all showing a reaction of some kind. Except for Vivian. She’s looking right at me with a calculating look on her cold and beautiful face.

Relax, Paul,
she says in my mind.
You’re not tripping. It’s me.

“But how? I don’t understand.” I sit back on my ass, examining the black dirt under my nails. My heart slows in its frantic tempo and the emerald of my master’s eyes seems to blend with the greenery encircling us.

“It’s an illusion,” Rafe says.

The presence I felt with Vivian speaking to me grows in my head, and all of a sudden I can
hear
everyone in the grove.

Can she project like this to everyone or only those she’s connected to through blood?

God, the sun feels good. Two years is too long.

Man, they look fuckin’ funny. At least Drew finally shut his gaping mouth.

Drew whips around and stares at me.
It wasn’t me, I swear. Think that was Jon.
I say in a mental projection, the same way I spoke to Vivian earlier when she was in my head. The easygoing man looks to the werewolf and flips him the bird.

Slowly, as everyone quiets their minds and relaxes, I can discern whose mental signature is whose. “I’m not so sure I’m digging this,” I say. My stomach gives a lurch, confirming what I voiced. Calmness I’m not so sure is my own fills me, and my stomach settles.

Drew’s boldness of today is apparently not over, “Will you answer my unspoken question about to whom you can project? Or leave us in the dark?”

The illusion starts to slowly fade. First, I’m back up in my chair and then the round conference table emerges from the forest floor. As the trees fade to the industrial white walls and the heat of the sun winks out, replaced by the indirect lighting of the covered bulbs in the chandelier, a gentle sigh escapes Jon.

A hush settles over the small group as we all turn to the fiery redhead. “I can broadcast to anyone at anytime on the property,” she answers. “My connection here is strongest. Outside the resort I can project within a two hundred foot radius… to
anyone
.”

The dramatic pause at the end must have sunk in with everyone else to mean something. Asa looks intrigued and Drew looks worried. I feel like I’m still holding the bag and waiting for candy when the lights are out in the house. Is this a big deal? Should I be scared?

“How long have you had this advanced glamour ability?” Drew asks.

“Since I turned. It started with being able to alter my appearance. I built it up over the years. ”

“I’ll say,” laughs Jon. “I think I smelled deer in that last one.”

Drew turns to the Were. “You’ve known all along?”

“I am her servant.” A self-satisfied smile creases the werewolf’s features. “Not much we don’t share.” A dark expression crosses Rafe’s face; this time it’s Vivian who reaches out a soothing hand to her husband. Is there tension between the three we’re unaware of? Are they all one big happy threesome? I’m thinking if they were, then Jon wouldn’t be walking around with a hard-on for her half the time… so maybe there is some trouble in paradise.

“Is this why Coraline hates you?” Asa asks. “Is this what they are after?”

“Coraline hates me because she thinks I had something to do with an Ancient who died years ago, while on her watch… and a vampire lover who favored me over her.”

“So she doesn’t know of your illusion abilities? Are you sure?” he says while staring intently at Vivian.

Vivian looks away, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m not sure. I’ve been careful to hide it and use the gift sparingly.”

“Why not use it in a trap?” I say. “You said you can do it really well on the property, right?”

A slow smile tilts the corner of her full lips, “That’s an understatement.”

“What do you suggest, Paul?” Rafe asks.

All eyes turn to me and now I’m not so sure my idea is a good one. “Can you get super-detailed with the illusions, like other people and stuff?” Just then, a movement catches my eye from the doorway. Coraline stands at the door in the long black coat she arrived in, the one with the bright turquoise pendant pinned at a jaunty angle, and cascading curly blond hair frames her angelic face.

She peels back her top lip to expose one bloody fang and reveals an object she held behind her back. Dangling from her petite hand is the severed head of my wife, Bunny. A blood-curdling girly scream rips from my throat and I launch out of my chair… only to have the council member—and the head—disappear.

I land on the carpeted floor in an inglorious heap, amid the raucous laughter of my seethe-mates. “Paul!” Jon calls. “You should have seen your face! Priceless.” At a sharp look from Rafe he quiets. “But hey, I bet that answered your question, eh?”

A tingle of fear slides through my body as the magnitude of this “gift” really hits me. I hope there are not many masters who hold this power. Or of they do, they don’t have quite such a mean streak in them as Vivian does.

You wanted proof on how real it could be.
Vivian says inside my head.
Was that good enough for you?

As the rage slowly subsides and I’m able to pick myself up off the floor with relative dignity, I answer, “I get it. Thanks.” If she made Bunny look dead, and I mean really dead, could she do the same with Emiko?

“How is it the ability works on vampires?” Asa says with a glint of interest in his eye. “I thought glamour was only supposed to work on humans?”

“With enough practice,” Vivian begins, “a vampire can push a subtle physical glamour to surround their body. Like making their skin less pale or enhancing their looks. His or her fellow undead may not notice because it takes concentration to break the glamour.”

“Is this your way of telling them you’re not a natural redhead?” Jon winks at me while talking to Vivian. “Cuffs and collar don’t match?”

She smiles and relaxes a bit, “Sorry to disappoint, but no, this is all me. I don’t use small glamours on myself. Waste of energy.”

Drew waves his arm around the room, “This show you put on was not so little. And I bet it uses a lot of power.”

Vivian shrugs one delicate shoulder, “Depends on how much you have to start with. And how much practice you have.” At Drew’s look of incredulity she adds, “But yes, I couldn’t do an elaborate one like that for twenty-four hours, it does drain me.”

I take a deep breath and forge ahead with my thoughts. “But could you do a more detailed one for, say, fifteen or twenty minutes?” At her quick nod and no elaboration, I decide to spill my idea. “Could we stage Emiko’s death and trick Coraline into leaving, thinking the hunt was over?”

“What if she did kill her husband and his kids? Doesn’t she deserve whatever punishment she gets?” Asa asks. I sense a little dissension below the surface there; maybe he doesn’t like the Asian vampire too much. Then again, I think I heard them talking about her beating the crap out of him earlier.

Surprisingly, it’s Rafe who answers him, “You’re still thinking like a human, Asa. The justice and laws in the vampire world aren’t the same as what you’re used to. You’re a predator now.

“Whether she preyed on that man or not isn’t what we’re here discussing. Has she been used as a pawn to get to Vivian? Is she being used by the Inner Circle because of her property and their desire to own it?” His soothing tones make sense, drawing us back on track in spite of the shock of Vivian’s power revelations. “Do we intervene and try and talk with her and if yes, what do we plan to do to change the fate of this week?”

Asa says, “Will talking to her help? Won’t she just tell us what we want to hear?” The married couple exchanges a look.

“Let me question her alone and we’ll see where we are.” Vivian says. “We’d have to convince her to go along with the plan, first.”

“How about we arrange the whole thing in the woods,” Asa says, getting into the idea now, “where the other killings have taken place. Then bring Coraline in after we set the stage?”

“Jon?” Rafe leans around Vivian to look at the Were. “Think you’d be up to planting seeds… luring Coraline out where we need her?”

An expression of uncertainty cross Vivian’s features, but Jon answers without looking at her, “Sure, as long as she’s not an addict, I think I can handle a little conversation.”

“I’m not sure I like it,” she says. “Too many variables we can’t control.”

Rafe opens a notebook and slides it across the table to his lovely wife, clicking a pen and holding it out for her. “Let’s write a plan and work it out together. Sound good?”

The surface wounds have all
healed; pink, puckered flesh coats my side as I change into a warm set of clothes. I’m still moving a bit slow and I’m not back to normal yet, but I’m still well enough to help. Charlie, the bartender on duty, told me Coraline is in the bar enjoying a drink alone. I intend on hightailing it over there as quick as I can.

It’s past midnight and the seethe plotted for hours trying to work out a viable plan. Step one is talking to the Tribunal member and setting her on the predetermined trail. When I arrive at the Irish pub located in the east wing of the third floor, Coraline is examining the special drink menu, the one offering cocktails mixed with blood. Spike, one of the werewolves traveling with Romeo’s pack, sits at the far end. Must be taking a break for the night and not hunting. Unlike the vamps, the wolves can’t keep up the pace of around-the-clock day after day.

He looks my way and I swear I see interest blooming in his gaze. Something about his unique pheromone combination confuses my senses and makes me return his smile. Jesus. Am I that hard up for a werewolf mate I’m ready to hit on some odd-smelling
guy
?

I slide onto the stool next to Cora, steadfastly refusing to look in the Were’s direction again, and nod to Charlie. “Pint of Yuengling.”

“Coming right up, Jon. You okay? You don’t look yourself.”

I’m freshly-showered, in clean clothes, and not wearing flannel—I wonder which one is throwing him off? “I’m good,” I smile my same old crooked grin, trying to reassure the bartender. “Took a beating from a vampire earlier.”

He nods and cleans a glass. “That explains the fading bruises.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Coraline says when she turns her attention to me. “Aren’t you Vivian’s servant?” Her eyes narrow while she checks me out. “Did our hostess get a little rough with one of her toys?” A smile creases her wholesome-looking face and a dimple winks into view.

“No, but one of the guests did.”

“Really?” She turns on her stool, giving me her full attention. “One of the hunters?”

I shake my head and lean in, keeping my voice low. “It was one of their guests. Did you see the Indian vampires?” At her nod I continue, “The male one, Vikram, came after me.”

“Now that’s surprising. From what I’d read of Sanji, she’s the unstable one.”

I shrug, hiding my elation over what she’s confirmed—she checked out the hunters and knew who all the players were before she arrived. Could one of them be in on her plans to get to Vivian? This underhanded political crap annoys me. Wolves would just fight it out face-to-face and be done with it.

The blond vamp eyes me critically, “How did you get away? Even being younger than Sanji, he still would have been enough to take down one werewolf.”

“Vivian heard my distress call and came to my aide.”

Her lush red lip lifts in disgust, “I suppose any vampire would do the same for their servant.”

“Don’t speak from experience?” I smile, hoping my good nature can charm her. “You don’t have a handsome man at home ready to do your bidding?”

Her eyes narrow and she purses her lips, “Not for a few decades.” Coraline turns her attention back to the specialized drink menu. “Sometimes they’re more work than they’re worth.” One French-tipped nail settles on a printed listing. “Barkeep?”

The large, brown-haired man behind the counter comes over. “Charlie.”

“What?”

“My name is Charlie.”

“Like I care? Get me some of this old blood, I want to give it a try.”

Without glancing at me, Charlie remembers his instructions from before the hunt started. “Sorry, we’re all out. Supplier might have some for us by next week, though.”

“That certainly does me no good now, does it?” She flips the menu over and glances through the list of fresh blood choices used as mixers. “I’ll take a Cosmo with some A-neg.”

Man, she’s got a winning disposition. I’m starting to doubt my role in being the one to get her started on the trail. “Charlie, did you hear the latest?”

“Hmm? On what, the hunt?”

“Yeah, Drew will be sending an email out to the employees soon, I think. One more down and two have dropped out of the hunt.”

He delivers a low whistle while shaking the drink in a metal mixing cup. “So that makes the body count two, right?”

“If you count the werewolf, it’s three hunters.”

“Three hunters are dead already?” Coraline sputters her indignation. “Why wasn’t I informed?”

I shrug my shoulders as I glance in the long mirror behind the bar. Rafe slips in the room and stays close to an empty booth seat. “I’m not the one in charge. Couldn’t tell you.”

“Where is your
master
? I need to speak with her.”

“Not sure.” I angle my head in Rafe’s direction, “But her husband is right over there if you’d care to ask.”

The council member grabs her drink off the counter and stomps over to Rafe’s spot at one of the corner booths. I nod my thanks to Charlie and leave my beer on the counter, untouched. Avoiding alcohol while I’m still healing seems like a wise thing to do.

Rafe meets my eye as I open the heavy door leading into the gentleman’s lounge. Coraline’s voice is the last thing I hear as the wood whisks shut behind me, “Tell me what the hell has happened so far and maybe I won’t go so hard on your wife when I see her.”

I head through the lounge and out onto the landing surrounding the open foyer on the main floor. A throat clears off to my left and I catch a glimpse of familiar strawberry-blond hair in the shadows of the darkened reading parlor.

“Diane?” I ask, while changing direction to met her. “Is that you?” She’s Dr. Cook’s daughter and the one I was hoping to talk to about a mind protection charm. “Did you get my message?”

The randy thirty-year-old is dressed in a tight sweater with a plunging neckline. Tousled, spiral curls hang to her ass, begging to be touched. Her jeans look painted on and everything about her screams to be fucked.

Her full mouth tilts up in a knowing smile as she runs a hand up my chest. I grab it to halt her progress. “I was hoping you’d call to get together,” she says in a throaty whisper.

“It’s not what you think, sorry.”

Diane’s other hand snakes down to cup my balls. “Didn’t you enjoy it last time?” She leans in, placing her full breasts against my chest.

I step back, breaking her hold on my expanding cock and remove her lush curves and perky nipples from temptation. I lock down my pheromones and try to will my thoughts away from plunging my cock into her. This is not the time for a quick jaunt with the sexy witch. “You know I did. But I’m in the middle of something right now and need your help.”

Her face clears, the sultry, sleepy look replaced by interest. “Go on,” she says while removing her hand from my grasp and folding her arms over her chest.

“Is there an amulet you can make to help shield my thoughts? Or help me strengthen my mental walls?”

She tilts her head, opening her mouth slightly and closing it. I bet she’s itching to ask me what for and is debating on whether it’s a sound idea or not. “There isn’t any local lore I could apply. But, most of my teachings occurred in the lower states. I might be able to whip you up something.” A mischievous smile crosses her face. “It’ll cost you.”

I have a pretty good idea what kind of payment the sex-crazed woman will ask me for. Stepping closer, I take her face in my hands and kiss her deeply. Her hot tongue battles with mine as her passion rises. A small whimper escapes as the muscles in her body relax.

I walk her back to a leather chair until her legs hit and she’s forced to sit down. I go down to one knee, and with one hand I open her pants and unzip them. As I force my fingers down into the constricted space of her tight jeans, she coils her arms around my neck and grinds her pelvis forward. Sliding over her slippery, wet folds, I carefully explore to find the hard nub of her desire. A few gentle strokes and she’s bowing against me, raising her ass off the seat. “Take me here, Jon,” she says as she breaks our kiss for air. “I don’t mind if we attract an audience.”

While I enjoy her whenever I’m horny, I don’t have any desire to broadcast my private moments to anyone in the inn. “That’s not very becoming for the doctor’s daughter, now is it?” I chuckle.

“Like I care what anyone thinks of me, the resident witch?” She reaches once more for my cock, but I pull my hips back. “They all come to me when they want a love charm or staying power that beats Viagra.”

The passion she’s instilled in me with such charms overrides everything, even my obsession with Vivian. If I can push the redheaded temptress out of my head long enough, I can find release in the arms of another. Although, I now try to avoid long, drawn-out encounters. I learned the hard way that women can fall for me, while I feel nothing in return.

“Please, Jon.” She nibbles along my ear while I plunge my fingers deep into her wet opening. “You’re working me up good.” Diane clutches my shirtfront while I steadily build her toward release.

“You make that charm for me and we’ll see.” I know it’s cruel to use her, but I’ve been honest in my lack of feelings for her. If she still wants a tumble sometimes, then I’m more than happy to oblige.

Her eyes fly to mine and her breathing sounds rough, “You’re going to leave me hanging?”

A tenderness grabs hold of my heart as I lean down to plant kisses along her neck. I wish I could love her. She’s sweet and responds to my touch at a moment’s notice. “No, I’d never do that to a lady,” I say while grinding the heel of my palm into her sensitive mound. “I can’t be with you now. I’ve got some internal wounds healing.” Soft mewling sounds come from deep in her throat. “But that’s not to say I won’t satisfy you.”

Despite my intentions, my sexual musk starts to leak out, coating the air with the arousal I refuse to acknowledge. Diane’s pale coloring reminds me so much of my heart’s desire. I bite her taut, ivory skin, drawing a slight bit of pain into the experience as she’s about to peak. Biting Dria, even mildly, would allow me to mark her as mine, undoubtedly sending Rafe into a rage.

I’d love to give the human a run for his money and my cock starts to lengthen at the thought of having him equally desire me. The feel of Dria’s flesh under my mouth combines with the image of Rafe taking her from behind while I tease her front. My fingers rubbing expertly at her clit while her husband’s cock slides into her pussy.

A throaty “Jon” issues from my lover and a pulse beats in my prick. I pull back to examine the teeth marks I’ve made in her skin. When I see the freckles dotting Diane’s complexion, I’m pulled rudely out of my fantasy. A clench in my chest reminds me it can never be. Maybe… if I can convince Rafe I’m not a threat to their bond… but doing so would be a stretch since I very much desire to be the vampire’s true mate.

Diane’s moans get louder and I clamp my mouth on hers to capture the sounds. My slow and steady rhythm plunging deep inside builds to a faster pace and I lighten the force of my palm. Her hips circle as she unconsciously seeks more pressure to reach orgasm.

Shudders wrack Diane’s frame as I push her higher, reapplying pressure with the heel of my hand on her erect pearl. Her hands clasp my shoulders as she digs her nails into my faded denim shirt. The orgasm hits her hard, forcing convulsions around my fingers as her inner walls tighten. I slow my hand and the passionate little vixen rises up in her seat then plummets back to the leather, pumping on my hand, milking her release for all it’s worth.

She breaks our kiss and I ease my hand out of the tight confines of her jeans. “Let me please you, Jon.” Diane runs a hand along the straining bulge in my pants. “Please.”

The look on my face gives her a hint of my coming answer, but before I open my mouth she rises and pushes me roughly backward into an alcove between bookcases. The strawberry blond fumbles at my waistband and drops to her knees. “This time it will work without the charm, I know it. Injury or not,” she says while wrapping a hand around my hardness and wrestling with my pants, “you haven’t felt this stiff in ages.”

I look down at the golden red of her hair; even in the dim light I can tell she’s not Dria. I lean my head back against the wood paneling, closing my eyes, drifting in the sensations of her moist heat encircling the tip. In my mind I see my master taking my cock deep into her throat while Rafe watches, heat burning in his gaze instead of anger. One hand pumps the base and the other kneads my balls, a gently coaxing stimulation of the soft globes to drive me higher.

What would he do? Would he join in? Take her doggie style while she works me? The images flash through my brain and I pump my hips in excitement. The wet pressure leaves my shaft and a soft voice breaks the spell, “That’s it, Jonny. Let go.”

Jesus. Why did she have to talk? Reality crashes back around me and I’m very aware it’s my sometimes lover, Diane, sucking my cock and not Dria. As she lowers her head to engulf me once more, I stop her. The blood starts to rush out of my dick and I don’t feel up to trying to force the moment. “Don’t, please.”

Hurt flashes across her face then deepens to sadness in her eyes.

“It’s not you, Diane. It’s me.” I lift her to her feet and wrap my arms around her in an embrace. “I know you want more than I can give, and I’m truly sorry for that.” I lean back to look in her deep blue eyes again, seeing some of her good humor replace the pain I saw a moment ago. “It’s past time I found werewolf mate. This seems to be my body’s way of forcing the issue.”

She reaches up and plants a tender kiss on my mouth. “It’s getting worse. The aphrodisiac seems to be the only thing allowing you to let loose these days.”

I rest my forehead against hers, “I know.”

Diane steps back and does up her pants. “How about I mix some up while I work on the protection amulet?” Her no-nonsense approach makes me feel even more of a shit-heel. “Hey now, lose the guilty look. I knew when you needed the passion charm this was not a long-term relationship.” She gives me a saucy wink as I zip up. “But I intend to ride it out for as long as it lasts.”