Vampire Thirst (12 page)

Speaking of which, a narrow door to the left with a big “Do Not Enter” sign caught Rafe’s attention. It was probably where they kept the admin stuff like phone records and addresses of their patrons. Perfect.

“Hi, handsome.”

Rafe turned around to find a pair of light blue eyes eating him alive. The owner was a short female with red hair and a round face. Her breasts were squashed under a tight dress.

“Right back at you, love,” Rafe replied.

“Are you new to the club? I haven’t seen you before.” Her small hands trailed down Rafe’s arm.

“No, I just don’t come to London often,” he lied.

“Oh, I think you are new, my darling,” she said, pouting her lips. “I would definitely remember someone with your looks.”

Great.

Her slender fingers trailed the lines of the tattoo that took up most of his upper arm. “Full moon, in the midst of branches,” she whispered. “Beautiful.”

If only she knew. Oh, well, maybe she did. These clubs were exclusive to the supernatural community. This redhead had probably sniffed his wolf from across the room. Rafe cocked his head and eyed her up and down. He hadn’t been to a club as posh as this one, but it didn’t matter. People who went there were looking for the same thing as the ones in the dirtiest part of town – sex. So Rafe made his move before the bitch turned him in.

He grabbed her by the ass and pulled her against him. She yelped in surprise but quickly recovered. Her arms snaked up his tight muscles and wrapped around his neck.

“You’re definitely not from around here, Wolf Boy.”

OK, time to shut her up. Rafe cupped the back of her neck and slammed his lips against hers. While his tongue played with hers, his ears went onto full alert – searching for anything that could give him a clue as to whether the draconian demigoddess was there tonight. After just a few seconds, he caught the tail of something useful.

“I’ve heard she is part of Zoricah’s clan. She was here last night,” a male voice said from across the room.

Rafe held the redhead in place and, pretending to lick her neck, he turned toward the voice. Two nancies were talking to one of the waiters.

“I’m afraid I am not acquainted with this person you refer to, sir,” the waiter replied with typical British stiffness.

“Oh, give us a hand, mate! She’s mid-height, spiky hair, olive skin, dark eyes, tight breasts.”

“And the most fuckable lips you’ll ever find,” Pansie Number Two added.

Hmm, the description didn’t sound like Zoricah. But Rafe had heard that one of her fighters was a witch from Brazil. Her name was Yara.

The servant took in a long breath and rolled his eyes. “I haven’t seen her tonight.”

“Well, tell us where to find her, then,” Nancy One said.

“I’m afraid this would not be possible, sir. Rules are rules,” the waiter replied.

Rafe had heard enough. He turned his attention back to the woman in his arms. “Why don’t you get your partner and we can have some real fun, love?”

Her irises lit up like stock cars before a race. “I’ll be right back,” she replied, then grabbed a handful of his crotch and squeezed. Her jaw dropped and her eyes went wide with hunger. “Don’t you dare go anywhere, stud.”

As soon as she was out of eyesight, Rafe walked through the crowd and reached the door with the “Do Not Enter” sign plastered on it. He turned the knob. Locked. No problem. He turned around and checked where the waiters and bouncers were. The waiter seemed to have gotten rid of the two pansie boys and now was directing someone into the private rooms. Not wasting any time, Rafe took a small key chain out of his back pocket and plucked two small pins out of the bundle. Moving swiftly, he placed them in the lock and swiveled slowly. In no time, he heard the click that brought a smile to his lips. Too easy.

After another quick look around, he slid through and locked the door behind him. The small office was furnished with just a file cabinet, a desk and a computer. It seemed the owners had spent all their money on the lavish décor outside and had run out of cash to decorate this room. Rafe went around the desk and sat in front of the computer. Their security system was impressive, but that meant nothing to an expert like him. Cracking it was like taking candy from a baby. After just a few clicks on the keyboard, he found what he was looking for. Last night’s guest list. He skimmed down the list of famous names and found her. Yara. One name, nothing else. He double clicked on it and another window popped up on the flat screen. All her membership records cascaded down in front of him, including her credit card details. Beautiful. That was all he needed to find the bitch. And once he found her, he’d find Zoricah and her vampire king.

Chapter 19

“That one, across the road,” Sam whispered, pointing at an old-looking mansion.

Hikuro had transported them back to the park in Seven Sisters, just a few miles from central London. The whole area was very dodgy and quite deserted. Shadows crept out of every corner.

“It looks abandoned,” he observed. “I can’t hear anything human inside.”

Sam glanced at him. “Human?”

“There are a few roaches and rats.”

She made a face, then shivered. A small smile curled up on Hikuro’s lips. She was a fierce fighter, but sometimes she could be such a princess. Cute.

“Let’s go in,” she suggested.

Hikuro opened his mouth to argue against it, but Sam was already halfway across the road.

They climbed up the fire exit and got in through a broken window. The house was fairly dark. The street lamps outside provided the only pockets of light. It was clear it had been empty for quite some time.

Sam turned her flashlight on and gave a little squeak. “A few roaches?” she whispered. “By Apa Dobrý, Hikuro, this house is infested!”

As if to back her up, a couple of rats scampered by, just inches from her boots. She jumped, startled, then shot him an angry look as if he was the one to blame for the manor’s precarious sanitary condition. Women.

“Do you remember where your director’s office was?”

She nodded and took the lead. They went up a few flights of decrepit stairs, then crossed a long corridor. Sam kept her cool, but Hikuro could hear her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn’t enjoying this trip down memory lane - no fucking wonder – he wasn’t either, because his instincts were screaming danger.

Sam stopped in front of a double door and took an unsteady breath. She had goose bumps all over. Hikuro took off his leather jacket and placed it over her slender shoulders. Sam leaped,
startled.

“Just me. No rats,” he joked.

She smiled, but it never reached her beautiful eyes.

She
slipped her
arms into his large jacket, then
slowly pushed the door ajar. It creaked in protest. She stood at the threshold. Immobile.

Hikuro peeked inside. If it wasn’t for the heavy layer of dust, he could
swear the director had just popped out for a few minutes and would be back at any time. The old, heavy desk had papers scattered across it, the shelves were packed with books and the bar was half loaded. But something wasn’t right. He glanced around. Bingo. One of the whiskey bottles was clean. Somebody had been here not so long ago.

Hikuro circled around Sam, blocking her view. “You don’t have to do this.”

She blinked a few times, then her eyes met his. “I do.”

Yes, she did. Hikuro’s heart swelled with respect for the woman in front of him. Many men in the world could only dream of having the balls she had.

Sam drew in another deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.”

They spent a good twenty minutes rummaging through the piles of dusty files and paperwork, but found nothing substantial.

“May the Soartas strike me!” Sam cursed between clenched teeth.

“Don’t say it too loud, they may hear you and grant your wish,” Hikuro replied, light hearted.

She pointed the flashlight straight at his eyes, blinding him.  “Who are you and what did you do to Hikuro?”

He chuckled and was about to retort back, just for the sake of keeping her mind off their frustrating task, when his ears picked up the sound of a car engine. He darted to the nearest window.

“Someone’s just arrived.”

Sam was right behind him.

The large truck parked just outside the double-door garage. A man wearing jeans and a hoodie stepped out of the passenger seat and opened the gate, then the truck disappeared into the mansion.

“Where does that gate go?”

“To the paved square, where the dorms are.”

“Let’s go.”

Hikuro followed Sam down the flight of stairs and out into a vast courtyard. She paused behind a pillar, gun out, ready for action. Hikuro couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her blond waves flowed freely along her cute chin. Her stunning blue eyes were firm, unwavering. Her earlier reticence was nowhere to be found.

“
Look,
” she mouthed.

Two bulky men came out of one of the dorms carrying a large machine. One of them had a slight limp, which caused him to trip. With the sudden jerk, his hoodie fell backward. Hikuro’s jaw clenched at the sight the man’s snake-like, green skin. Razbians.

Sam’s wide eyes met his, but they were too close for any safe exchange of words. The two razbians placed the machine on the back of the truck and disappeared inside the complex again. Hikuro ran to the vehicle – no point in materializing in a place he wasn’t acquainted with. Bad things could happen.

Inside the vehicle’s crate, he found tall glass containers, an industrial freezer and a weird piece of equipment that resembled an old dentist’s chair. Hikuro had never seen anything like that before. What the fuck were the razbians doing with all that?

“Oh!” Sam’s cry was almost inaudible, but it was enough to call Hikuro’s full attention. He snapped his head around and found her shaking from head to toe. Her entire body glowed. Translucent waves danced inside her irises.

Fuck.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“I…I’ve seen this chair before,” Sam choked out. Her entire body trembled.

“Where? When?”

“Nightmares.” It was all she could mutter before her teeth started chattering violently. She wrapped her arms around herself and bent low as if in pain.

Hikuro could see how much she was struggling to control her energies. He had to get her out of there before she lost the battle against her panic attack. He reached out and grabbed her arm, already calling on his powers to teleport.

“No!” Sam cried out.

Too late. He was catapulted backward by an incredible force as soon as his skin touched hers. He bounced off the truck’s iron walls and landed heavily on top of a glass container.

“Oh, Gods! You…OK?” Sam managed to whisper.

Hikuro nodded, even though his entrails felt like they had been barbequed.

“Be careful, mate,” Hikuro heard one of the razbians say from just outside the truck.
Shit!
 

Sam seemed to have heard them too. Her eyes went wide and frantic. Hikuro opened the industrial freezer and gestured for her to get in. She shook her head. The razbians were getting closer.

“
Get in now!
” he mouthed.

She let out one last, painful whimper, but complied. He hated having to do this to her, but there was no other alternative. He couldn’t touch her, so teleporting was out of the question. And may the Soartas strike him, but he’d never leave without her. Sam squeezed herself inside the cold box. Tears of pure light cascaded down her cheeks. Hikuro felt his heart break into little pieces. He’d rather suffer a million shocks than see her like that again. He closed the heavy lid and hid behind a tall machine.

The razbians came back, placed one last piece of weird equipment into the truck and locked the doors behind them. They never noticed the slight beam of light that was seeping out of the freezer at the back.

After a few moments, the truck roared to life and started moving. Great, now he’d have to wait before he could get them out of this mess.

Slowly, he crept out of hiding and opened the fridge’s lid. Sam shot up, but he managed to dodge her punch.

“It’s me,” he whispered.

“Oh,” she exhaled, then crumbled back down. She looked exhausted. The trembling had receded a bit – she wasn’t a walking light pole anymore, more like a bright candle. “What now?”

Hikuro sat on the edge of the fridge. “Now, we wait.”

After what seemed like an eternity, the truck came to a stop. Hikuro heard the two razbians chitchat outside.

“Are you OK?” he whispered.

Sam nodded, but her shivering hadn’t subsided completely.

Hikuro focused on the guards’ voices and other noises outside the vehicle. There was no evident echo. The sound waves bounced off distant barriers, which meant they were out in the open. A crow cried nearby.

Just what he needed.

Hikuro locked his mind on that particular bird and offered his hand to Sam. As soon as her trembling fingers touched his, he teleported them to the branch where the crow was. It screeched, protesting against the intruders, then flew away.

Good, they had made it. Hikuro could see the truck parked in front of a large compound in the distance. Before the weak branch gave in on them, he wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and jumped, landing safely on the grass, almost 12 feet below.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “And I’m sorry for...you know.” Her voice trailed off. She was clearly embarrassed by what had happened, but instead of hiding it, she had chosen to be honest. “I’ve been having nightmares since I was a child, and…” she drew in a long breath, “and those weird chairs are always in them.”

“The dentist’s chairs?”

She nodded. “I thought they were just something my mind had created, but…”

“But now we know they are very real,” Hikuro finished the sentence for her.

She drew in another trembling breath and closed her eyes. He pulled her to him, cradling her head against his chest. She felt so good in his arms. He found himself wanting that moment to linger, to never end. His mind raced with questions about what they had seen in the old orphanage but his body fought against it, just wanting to relish the moment. Damned the Soartas.