Younger, Bree - Burn [All American Vampires 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (9 page)

“No. No bats. And limited psychic powers. Very limited. Mostly connected to biting.”

“So tell me…”

He groaned and stood up. “Look, Libby. As much as I’m enjoying this interrogation—er—conversation, I’ve got a killer headache and I really need some blood and some rest, in that order.” He looked down at her plate. “Are you finished eating?”

She huffed at the thinly veiled accusation but conceded she might have come across a little pushy, so she just nodded and he took the plate, bowl, and glass to set them in the kitchen. Then he walked back to her.

She rose to stand beside him, amazingly reluctant for him to leave. “Ah…do you want me to come with you?”

He managed a smile. “I think I can manage.” He walked down the hall and looked into the bedroom and what she assumed was the bath. “I want you to wait for me in here.” She followed him down the hall and peeked around him into the small bath.

“But why?”

“Because it’s the safest room. There’s no window and only one entrance, so it’s easily defended.” He passed her the gun. She took it, surprised that he would trust her with the weapon. “Use this on anybody who tries to get in.” He pushed her through the door. “Except me.”

Okay. That made her nervous. What if those bad vamps found her? “Maybe I should go with you. I could help you look for the deer and stuff.”

“Absolutely not. I’ll be moving much too fast for you to keep up. You should be fine here. I won’t be gone very long.”

“You promise?” She hated the whiny, pleading tone of her voice but couldn’t help it. And she knew she was acting ridiculously. Not thirty minutes ago she was running away from him, and now she didn’t want to let him out of her sight. But he made her feel safe.

He reached out and brushed a finger across her cheek. “I promise, Lib. You’ll hardly even know I’m gone. You promise me that you will not leave this room. No more trying to escape. I’m not strong enough right now to perform any type of rescue.”

“I promise.”

He drew back. “Now lock the door behind me. And don’t come out. Not for anything. You understand?”

She nodded and he gave her one last nod of reassurance before the door closed with a thump.

Chapter Six

Quinn sat at his desk, his mind focused on finding his missing brother. Where in the hell could he be? Who could have taken him? If he could figure out why anyone would take Ty, then he might be able to figure out how to get him back. It just didn’t make any sense. Everyone in the vampire community knew how protective the brothers were of each other. They had to know that if anything happened to Ty, Quinn would not rest until he had found and killed those responsible. It was foolhardy in the extreme to mess with the Buchanans simply for money. If that was what this was about, then he was dealing with some really stupid people.

Only Quinn didn’t think it was about money. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that this was connected to those bodies in Waveland. It was the only thing that made sense. But why? Why would anyone care about a rogue vampire? Everyone knew that rogues who had gone wild with bloodrage put every vampire at risk of discovery. God knew what would happen if the humans realized there were vampires living in their midst. He didn’t want to even think about the massacres that had taken place over the centuries. Though vampires were stronger than humans, they were outnumbered a thousand to one. That’s what had given humans the advantage back in the Middle Ages during the worst of the vampire slaughters. If the Black Plague hadn’t struck, killing vast numbers of humans, vampires would probably have been completely annihilated. No, if it was just a rogue, no one would have cared. Hell, maybe he wasn’t on the right track. But what else could it be?

He booted up his computer and pulled up the report Ty had sent him about the drainings. As he read over the report, he kept thinking that he was missing something. There were only the two bodies. That in itself was unusual. A vampire in bloodrage usually killed until he was stopped. No other bodies had been reported. Of course, it was possible they hadn’t been found yet. Ty had tried to find some kind of trail to follow, but there had been nothing. Which was also a bit unusual but not completely unheard of. He’d asked some weres from the nearest pack to keep an ear out and let him know if there was anything else, but so far no one had heard anything.

He read over the reports on the condition of the bodies. Multiple bite wounds. Total blood loss. Again, nothing too far out of the ordinary. A vampire could drain with a single bite, but frequently those in a bloodrage would bite their victim repeatedly.

He clicked on the file containing the images of the bodies that Ty had taken when he went to Waveland to investigate the incident. He studied them carefully, going over each one detail by detail. Some young werewolves had found the bodies when they had skipped school and gone exploring in the swamp. The pack alpha had notified Quinn immediately, so when Ty arrived, the kills were still fairly fresh.

The fact that the bodies were apparently hidden in the swamp was a bit odd. Vampires in bloodrage were rarely logical about concealing the victims of their crimes, and generally just left them wherever they were killed. On the other hand, occasionally friends of the vampire in the rage tried to cover up what had happened, thinking they were helping the vampire out. They weren’t, but some people were just slow learners.

The longer he looked at the pictures the more he got a nagging feeling in his gut. Something was off about the photographs. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He enlarged one of the shots, scanning the picture for anything that seemed out of place or unusual. What was left of the nude woman was lying facedown in a swampy area. It was obvious that she’d not been out there long. The torso was relatively intact, with the exception of the numerous puncture wounds which covered the upper back and buttocks.

Clicking off the pictures, he scanned the file and found some follow-up notes that Ty had made about the case. Apparently he’d sent out some e-mails to the surrounding counties and even to the Master Vampire in southern Louisiana to see if anyone else had found bodies in a similar condition, but he couldn’t find where Ty had received any replies. Of course, they could be in his e-mail account. Unfortunately, Quinn didn’t know the password. He wondered what Ty was looking for—just more evidence of a rogue or something else?

He examined the pictures again, focusing this time on the bite marks. As he studied them he thought he noticed something he hadn’t seen before. Zooming in as close as the computer program would allow, he confirmed his first impression. The bites were different sizes. Damn it! That meant that there had to have been more than one biter. Rogues never worked in pairs or groups. He moved to a picture of the other body. It was the same. He noticed another peculiarity. Some of the bites seemed older, the bruising beginning to fade to a greenish yellow, though it didn’t look as if any of them had been healed with saliva. Just left to bleed and clot naturally, otherwise the older bites would have disappeared.

Son of a bitch. He’d seen marks like these before. He clicked back over all of the shots and was stunned at what he had discovered. Once he knew what to look for, it didn’t take him long to realize exactly what he was looking at. It had been a long time, but he had never forgotten. Bloodslaves. These women had been bloodslaves, drained and discarded when they’d outlived their usefulness. Then put somewhere that alligators or other wild creatures were sure to find them, to demolish all the evidence. It was someone’s bad luck that those juveniles had stumbled upon the remains. A little longer in the swamp and there would have been nothing left but bones, if that.

Bloodslaves had been outlawed in the vampire community centuries ago. For someone to be holding bloodslaves—and in his territory…it just didn’t bear thinking about. The punishment if a vampire was discovered with bloodslaves was death. In all his years, he’d only known one person who’d ever participated in the inhumane practice, and that had been a long, long time ago. He didn’t know why he was so shocked that it might still be going on in the twenty-first century, but he was.

Quinn stood and walked over to the window. The waters of the Gulf of Mexico spread out beneath him usually had a soothing effect on his troubled mind. But not tonight. Tonight his brother Ty was missing. And someone in his territory was holding bloodslaves.

* * * *

Libby sat propped against the wall opposite the door, the gun on her lap. She glanced at her watch again, for about the seven hundredth time. Five minutes later than the last time she’d checked. Ty had been gone almost two hours. And from the moment he had left, she had been a nervous wreck, jumping at every creak and groan of the cabin. What if the vampires had managed to trace their tracks and found the cabin? What if the gun wouldn’t stop them? Didn’t they have to be shot with silver bullets? Or was that werewolves? God, she hated this. She wasn’t cut out for this kind of stuff. She was a waitress and part-time student. Not Lara Croft, for Christ’s sake.

She could hardly breathe in the tiny room. She wished it had at least a small window that she could crack open and let some fresh air in. The walls were starting to close in on her, but she dared not open the door. Not even for a moment or two. What if someone was there, just waiting for her to come out?

No, she would do as Ty had said. Only—and this was even worse—what if whoever was chasing them had found Ty. What if they’d killed him? He was unarmed. And weak. For a vampire, anyway. Oh, God. She couldn’t stand this waiting. She looked at her watch again. This time she hadn’t even made two minutes. At least she could turn on the light in here.
Silver linings, remember, Libby
. After all, if there were no windows, no one would see the telltale sign that the cabin was occupied. She would’ve gone stark-raving mad if she’d been trapped here in the dark.

She leaned her head back against the wall and let her eyes drift shut. She was so tired. If she could just relax enough to rest for a few minutes, she was sure she would feel a lot better. Just a few minutes…

She jerked awake, aware that she’d been dozing. How long had she been out? And what had awakened her? Some noise? She strained her ears for any slight sound. There. What was that? Was it footsteps? Had Ty returned? Several heartbeats ticked by in total silence. Just as she’d started to relax she heard it again. And again. Damn. Someone
was
out there. Should she say something? Surely Ty would have called out if it were him. Another sound, like a scrape of something across the wooden floor. A boot? Ty was shoeless.

She broke from her frozen numbness and moved quietly to the door, the gun clutched in one trembling hand. Pressing her ear carefully against the wood paneling, she held her breath and listened.

Long, tense moments passed. Her heartbeat sounded loud in her ears as she waited for another sound. Anything. She had to bite her lip to hold back the frightened scream that ached to be let loose. The loud knock on the door sent her springing back and raising the gun. She was not going to go down without a fight.

“Libby? Lib? It’s me. Open up.”

The relief she felt at the sound of his voice almost took her to her knees. Her hand dropped, the gun clattered to the floor, and she struggled to unlock and open the door, sobbing until the knob turned and the panel swung inward. As soon as she saw Ty’s face, she rushed toward him and leapt into his arms, her hands clenching tightly around his neck.

“Lib? Are you okay?” She could hear the puzzlement in his voice, but his arms closed around her gently, and his hands slid comfortingly up and down her back. “Did something happen while I was gone? Lib? Talk to me. Why are you trembling?”

She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t speak, just shook her head and clutched him closer, burying her nose against the side of his neck, soaking in the wild masculine scent of his body. They stood there for a long time, and Libby’s terror gradually faded. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and she felt so safe and secure held against him.

Finally he eased her a few inches away, and she tilted her head back so that she could look up into his eyes. She could see the concern written plainly on his face. “Libby, what’s the matter?”

“You were gone so long. And I just—I heard a noise. I thought—oh—God—I thought that—that they—damn it, I’m not a coward, but…”

She could see when he finally comprehended just what she had believed. His features softened even more, and he slid his hands up to cup her face. “Oh, hell. I’m so sorry I frightened you. I should have called out. I didn’t realize you could hear me. Forgive me?”

He leaned forward to peer into her face, and, without thinking about it, Libby followed her instincts and pressed her lips against his.

His lips were so warm. That was her first thought. She was surprised. Weren’t vampires supposed to be cold? But he wasn’t. No. He was hot and delicious. For a minute he didn’t respond. Just stood there, frozen as if in shock, while her lips moved against his. But when her tongue prodded gently against the crease of his mouth, seeking admittance, he parted his lips, letting her in. There was a faint metallic taste on his lips, and she realized vaguely that it was probably from the blood he had recently drunk. She supposed she should have felt disgusted at the idea, but she didn’t. She was too caught up in the slow glide of his tongue against hers and the feel of his hand as it slid up into her hair to hold her mouth firmly against his.