Forbidden Nights With A Vampire (13 page)

Austin had left a crowbar in the room earlier, and now he pried the lid open a few inches. Phil grabbed the top and wrenched it off.

The sleeping vampire lay wrapped in silver chains. He looked about thirty-five years old, with a tall, gaunt body. His pale, pockmarked face was accented by deep-set eyes, sunken cheeks, and thinning brown hair. He couldn’t have been a very healthy mortal when he was transformed, and now he was stuck looking ill for centuries. But his pasty skin and frail body was deceiving. As a vampire, he possessed superior strength and speed.

Phil peered around the room. “Where do you want to put him?”

“The bed and easy chairs look too comfortable.” Austin grabbed a kitchen chair from the dinette set and set it in the middle of the room. “This will do.”

Phil helped Austin lift the vampire out of the crate. “He’s gotten a little stiff.”

They propped the body against the chair with Hermes’s feet on the floor and his shoulders against the back of the chair. The body didn’t bend to conform to the chair, but remained stiff as a board.

Austin snorted. “Holy rigor mortis.”

Phil chuckled. “Maybe we should lay him on the kitchen table. We could chain him to it.”

They soon had Hermes chained to the wooden table and the table standing on its edge.

“We could practice throwing knives,” Austin suggested. “Like a circus act.”

“Good idea.” Phil grinned. “But I think it would be more effective after he wakes up.” He checked his watch. “That should be in about ten minutes.”

“Let’s find something to eat.” Austin wandered into the kitchen area and rummaged through the cabinets. He found a loaf of bread and some chips.

Phil checked the refrigerator. It was stocked with synthetic blood but also had bottled water and lunch meat.

They sat in the easy chairs, eating their dinner, while they waited for Hermes to wake up.

Austin told Phil about some of the adventures he’d had as a former member of the CIA Stake-Out Team. “One time, I shot a Malcontent full of silver bullets and he was still able to teleport away.”

“Really?” Phil bit into his sandwich. “That’s interesting.”

Austin swallowed a bite from his sandwich. “I asked Angus about it, and he said silver needed to be external to keep a vampire from teleporting. It acts like a boundary that they can’t get through. But silver inside a vampire would hurt like hell and eventually kill him. I guess silver bullets would kill your kind, too?”

“Yeah. Silver inside me is like poison. But externally, it’s not a problem. I can touch it without it burning me.”

“Roman can touch silver, but he’s the only Vamp I’ve ever known who can.” Austin took another bite from his sandwich.

“I’ve noticed that the older Vamps can do things the younger ones can’t,” Phil said. “I’ve seen Angus teleport two mortals at once. And Jack and Ian have both managed to teleport me while I was armed with silver bullets.” He recalled how Vanda had been unable to teleport him with the silver chain in his pocket.

“Yeah, the older they get, the more powerful. I wonder how old this one is.” Austin motioned to the prisoner. “Oh, look. He’s waking up.”

The prisoner’s body jolted. His chest heaved, straining against the silver chain as he sucked in his first breath. His eyes opened, then narrowed on Phil and Austin. His nostrils flared. He struggled against his chains, shaking the table.

“You know.” Austin grabbed a handful of chips out of the bag. “I think he wants to bite us.”

Phil drank some water. “I’ve noticed they’re extremely hungry when they first wake up.”

“Yeah,” Austin agreed. “I heard it can get really painful.”

Hermes glared at them. “You are inferior creatures,” he grumbled with a thick accent. “You think you can hold me? Where have you taken me?”

Austin gave Phil a confused look. “Is he asking questions?”

“Looks that way.” Phil finished his sandwich. “Maybe he hasn’t realized yet that he’s the prisoner, and we ask the questions.”

Austin nodded. “They can be amazingly stupid sometimes. You would think they’d acquire a certain amount of wisdom over the centuries, but no—”

“Silence, mortal!” Hermes growled.

A surge of cold air pressed against Phil’s brow. The prisoner was attempting to use vampire mind control on them.

You will release me at once.

Phil quickly tapped into the power of his inner wolf to keep his mind protected. He glanced at Austin to make sure he wasn’t affected. He’d heard Austin was psychic but wasn’t sure how strong he was. “Are you all right?”

“Oh, yeah.” Austin lifted a hand, and a bottle of water flew from the kitchen counter to land in his hand.

Phil drew in a sharp breath. “You’re telekinetic? You must have more psychic power than vampires.”

“Yep.” Austin unscrewed the top of his water bottle. “It really pisses them off when they realize they can’t control me.”

“I will not be ignored!” Hermes thundered. “Obey me.”

He hissed at them, and his fangs sprang out.

“Now that’s just nasty.” Austin drank some water.

“Really.” Phil helped himself to some chips. “Someone should tell him about whitening strips.”

Another wave of cold air circled about the room.

Come to me, mortal. I must feed.

Austin gave Phil a wry look. “Do I look like breakfast to you?”

Phil studied the prisoner. “I think the hunger’s getting to him. He’s sweating.”

“And his legs are quivering,” Austin added. “I think he would fall down if we didn’t have him chained up.”

Hermes hissed at them. His arms strained against the chains, his hands fisted.

“If he wasn’t so rude, I might offer him a sip of synthetic blood.” Phil passed the chips back to Austin. “We’ve got plenty in the fridge. But he hasn’t even told us his real name.”

“You will get no information from me,” Hermes snarled. “I’d rather die than drink that synthetic piss.”

“I guess he wants to die.” Austin took the chips back to the kitchen area.

“Well, technically, he’s already died once,” Phil said. “He should be pretty good at it by now.”

The door to the silver room opened and Phineas sauntered inside. “What’s up?”

The prisoner glowered at him. “I know who you are. The traitor. Your time will come.”

Phineas studied him with a wry look. “Oh yeah, I’m scared.”

“Want some breakfast?” Phil walked toward the refrigerator. “We’ve got Type O, A, AB, whatever you like.”

“I’ll take some AB Negative. Thanks.” Phineas sat in one of the easy chairs. “Can you warm it up, bro?”

“Sure.” Phil popped the bottle in the microwave.

The scent of blood permeated the room. Hermes’s body racked with a shudder. His face glistened with sweat.

“Here you go.” Phil handed Phineas a glass filled to the brim with warmed-up blood.

Phineas guzzled down half the glass, then licked his lips. “Damn, that’s good.”

“So where’s Connor?” Austin sat next to Phineas in the second easy chair.

“He’s in the security office with Jack. They’re watching us.” Phineas motioned toward the surveillance camera above the bed. “Connor’s looking through the Malcontent database to figure out who this Hermes dude is.”

“I’m done,” Connor announced as he strode into the room. He gave the prisoner a challenging look, then referred to the clipboard in his hand. “Hermes is Polish, about four hundred years old, and he fought on the wrong side of the Great Vampire War of 1710.”

“Fuck you,” the prisoner growled.

Connor arched a brow. “As you can see, his English is somewhat limited.”

“What’s his name?” Phil asked.

“Sigismund.”

P
hil growled low in his throat as he unleashed his Alpha power. Because of his blue eyes, everything took on a luminous blue tint. His sight sharpened until he could see each vein in his prey’s neck. Smell the fear emanating from him. Hear his heart racing like a scared rabbit.

His form wavered on the brink of an instant shift. He controlled it for now as he stalked toward his prey.

Sigismund pressed back against the table. “What—What kind of shifter are you?”

Phil allowed his face to change. His nose and jaw crackled as they elongated. His canine teeth sprang out. He snarled.

“No!” Sigismund fought frantically against his restraints. He shot Connor a desperate look. “Call off your wolf!”

Connor shrugged. “He’s no’ my wolf.”

Phil halted in front of the prisoner. A primeval urge to kill swept through him, more powerful than he’d ever felt before. In the past, he’d killed animals while in wolf form. Werewolves always enjoyed a good hunt when the moon was full. And he’d killed Malcontents while engaged in battle. But never had he been tempted to commit murder—till now.

Sigismund extended his fangs in a futile attempt to defend himself. Phil knew if he drew too close, the vampire would snap at him. But he was seized by a murderous rage that dismissed any threat. His body vibrated with raw power. With lightning speed he latched onto the prisoner’s neck with one hand. He clamped down, squeezing with his superior strength.

Sigismund twisted his neck, trying in vain to bite.

Phil sent a flood of Alpha power down his arm, and his hand shifted. Fur sprouted. His nails elongated and curled into sharp claws.

Sigismund’s eyes bulged with terror. “Call him off! Call—” He choked as Phil’s claws punctured his skin.

Austin moved closer for a better view. “Holy shape-shifting, Phil! Only parts of you have shifted. And the moon isn’t even full. How can you do that?”

Phil growled. In his current condition his senses were all heightened, but with his head shifted, he could no longer talk.

“He’s an Alpha,” Connor replied for him. “He has powers other shifters only dream about.”

“Damn,” Austin muttered. “I’m glad he’s on our side.”

“Oh yeah!” Phineas punched the air with a fist. “He’s big! He’s bad! He’ll blow your house down, sucker.”

Phil snarled as the scent of blood reached his elongated snout. Blood dripped down the prisoner’s neck where his claws had penetrated.

Connor stepped closer. “Phil, can ye tone it down a wee bit? The prisoner canna answer our questions if he’s unconscious.”

Through a blue-tinted haze Phil realized the prisoner’s eyes had grown dull. He retracted his claws, reined in his Alpha power, and with one last shimmer his body returned to full human form. He let go of the Malcontent and stepped back.

Sigismund gasped for air as he slumped against the chains. “Don’t…don’t let him hurt me. I…I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“Verra good.” Connor nodded at Phil with an appreciative gleam in his eyes. “Well done, lad.”

“You da man.” Phineas gave him a knuckle pound. “Half man, half wolf, half son of a bitch.”

Phil snorted. Technically speaking, all male wolves were sons of bitches. He wandered into the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water from the fridge. He was painfully aware of the admiring glances that Austin and Phineas kept aiming his way. Personally, he was embarrassed. Ashamed, even.

He’d worked hard at the Navajo reservation in New Mexico to achieve his Alpha status. His old shaman friend and mentor, Joe, had stressed the great responsibility that came with Alpha power. Phil had sworn to be true to the noble character of the wolf and use his powers to protect those who depended on him. He was to hone his skills so he would always be victorious in battle. In all things, he was to honor the wolf.

Never was he to use his power for personal gain or to exact revenge. He was a chosen one, destined to be a leader among his own kind.

And he’d nearly murdered a man out of rage. He recalled Vanda’s words when she’d thought he had killed Max the Mega Member.

I understand the kind of rage that leads a person to take a life.

Was that what she was hiding? Had Vanda been so traumatized by the cruelty of war that she’d stepped over the line? She’d mentioned that Karl was the leader of the underground resistance, so it was logical to assume that Vanda had been involved in dangerous activities. The Nazis had sent wolves to kill her, so she’d clearly pissed them off. More of her words came back to him.

I don’t want any more deaths on my conscience.

“Where is Casimir hiding?” Connor asked, bringing Phil’s attention back to the present.

“He moves around, a different place every night,” Sigismund rasped. “I need to feed.”

“And I need real information,” Connor replied. “Phineas, is there any Blissky in the kitchen?”

“I’ll look.” Phineas rummaged through the cabinets.

“I’m not drinking that synthetic piss,” Sigismund growled.

“Ye doona have a choice.” Connor sat in a kitchen chair close to the prisoner.

“Found one!” Phineas opened a bottle of Blissky and inhaled deeply. “I’d better test it to make sure it’s all right.” He took a swig. “Oh yeah, baby! Now we’re talking.” He filled a glass to the brim.

Phil located a straw and plopped it into the amber liquid. The fridge was full of plain synthetic blood, but he figured Connor was hoping the Blissky would loosen Sigismund’s tongue. Since it was highly doubtful the prisoner had imbibed any whiskey in the last four hundred years, he would be hammered in no time.

“What does Casimir hope to accomplish here in America?” Connor asked.

Sigismund snorted. “What do you think? He came here to be your friend?”

“World domination,” Phineas muttered as he approached the prisoner with the glass of Blissky. “You bad guys are so predictable. Don’t you get bored with yourselves?”

Sigismund sneered. “We’ll take great pleasure in seeing you all dead.” He turned his head away from the glass Phineas offered. “Bring me a mortal.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing, man.” Phineas swirled the glass under the prisoner’s nose. “Smells really good, doesn’t it? Tastes like heaven.”

Sigismund’s nostrils flared and his fangs shot out.

“Hard to stop those reflexes, huh?” Phineas stuck the straw in Sigismund’s mouth.

The prisoner slurped down all the Blissky in just a few seconds. Then he coughed, his eyes watering. His fangs retracted.

Phineas chuckled. “Good shit, huh?”

“Not as good as a mortal.” Sigismund eyed the empty glass. “Bring me more.”

Phineas snorted. “You don’t want to admit it’s good.” He returned to the kitchen to pour another glass.

Phil noted there was color back in Sigismund’s face. “How big an army does Casimir have?”

“Big enough to destroy you. And about to get even bigger.” Sigismund smiled. “Casimir knows how to take advantage of your weakness.”

“And what would that be?” Connor asked.

Phineas brought another glass of Blissky, and Sigismund drank it down.

He licked his lips. “You claim to be good because you drink synthetic blood. But if you lost your supply, you’d go right back to biting mortals. Then hundreds of vampires would realize how much they enjoy biting and never want to go back. They’ll join us. You’ll be so outnumbered, you won’t stand a chance.”

Connor stood. “You’re planning to attack our supply lines?”

Sigismund snorted, then hiccuped. “We’ll stop you from even making the crap.”

All the Romatech facilities were in danger. Phil knew there were several in the United States. The one in White Plains supplied the East Coast, but there were others in Ohio, Texas, Colorado, and California.

“I need to warn Angus.” As Connor strode from the room, he yelled back, “I’ll send Jack down. Keep the prisoner talking.”

“Will do.” Phil approached Sigismund. “Did you go to Apollo’s compound often?”

“Sure. It was great. All those stupid girls just begging us to bite and screw them.”

Phil squeezed his fists to keep from socking him. “The party’s over. We set the girls free. We killed Apollo and Athena.”

Sigismund glowered at him. “Their deaths will be avenged.”

Phil snorted. “You think Casimir gives a damn about his so-called friends? He knows you were captured last night, but he never went back to rescue you.”

“He avenges his friends,” Sigismund insisted. “He has a hit list. In a week, everyone on the list will be dead.”

“Who’s on this hit list?” Austin asked.

“The ones responsible for the massacre at DVN and the murder of Jedrek Janow,” Sigismund sneered. “At the top of the list there’s Ian MacPhie and his mortal bitch, Toni.”

“Wife,” Phil corrected him. “They’re married.” And as long as they remained hidden away on their honeymoon, they should be safe. Still, they needed to be warned.

“Next on the list—those bloody assassins, Giacomo di Venezia and Zoltan Czakvar,” Sigismund continued. “Then Dougal Kincaid and the traitor, Phineas McKinney.”

“Cool,” Phineas said. “I’d feel really left out if you forgot me.”

“Anyone else?” Phil asked. He knew Carlos Panterra, Howard Barr, and Gregori had also been at DVN that night, but Casimir might not be aware of their involvement.

“There’s one more,” Sigismund grumbled. “That crazy bitch from Poland. Vanda Barkowski.”

Phil’s heart lurched in his chest. “That’s not right. She didn’t kill anyone.”

“She was there, causing trouble like she always does,” Sigismund growled. “Don’t think she’s innocent. Jedrek tried for years to kill her off. Casimir just wants to finish the job once and for all.”

Phil swallowed hard. “These hits start in a week?” He had to hide her someplace no one would ever find her.

“They’ll be dead in a week.” Sigismund chuckled. “The hits start tonight.”

Phil grabbed Phineas by the arm. “Teleport me to the club now!” He dragged the young Vamp out into the hallway just as Jack stepped out of the elevator. “We’re going to the Horny Devils. Austin can fill you in.”

“All right.” Jack hurried through the open door into the silver room.

“Let’s go!” Phil heard Sigismund’s mocking laughter as everything went black.

Vanda eyed Terrance the Turgid’s sleek, hairless chest and decided life wasn’t at all fair. She’d had sex with Phil and didn’t even know what his chest looked like. But the rascal certainly knew what she looked like. All over.

Terrance rotated his hips in time with the bongo drums. “Do you like the music I selected?”

“Jolly good.” Pamela tapped her foot on the floor.

Vanda sighed. Every month, her performers gave her a preview of the next month’s dances for approval. Cora Lee and Pamela loved this part of the job. Vanda used to love it, too, but now she found herself comparing every man she saw to Phil. And they never matched up.

While Terrance gyrated his hips, he ripped apart the Velcro that fastened the fake leopard cape around his neck. He tossed the cape, and it landed on Cora Lee’s head. Giggling, she pulled it down onto her lap.

Vanda could now see Terrance’s bare shoulders, but they didn’t look as broad and muscular as Phil’s. Of course, it was hard to tell ’cause she’d never actually seen Phil’s shoulders. Dammit. She should have insisted he take off that tuxedo.

Terrance pranced about the office in his sparkly Tarzan loincloth. “You hear the trumpet sound? When it trills, that’s when I’ll swing across the stage on a vine.”

Pamela clasped her hands together. “Capital idea.”

“And then, when the music crescendos, I rip off the loincloth!” Terrance flung the loincloth across the office, revealing his tan-colored thong decorated with ivy leaves.

Pamela clapped. “Outstanding!”

“Yee haw!” Cora Lee shouted.

Vanda eyed Terrance’s thong. Definitely not in the same league as Phil, and that she could be sure of. It was the one part of Phil’s anatomy that she had seen. And touched. He had truly been magnificent. Long and thick. Incredibly hard, but covered with the softest skin. He’d felt so good inside her. Filling her. Stroking her.

She squeezed her thighs together as a sudden yearning ached deep inside her. Damn. How was she going to resist him? With a sigh, she realized she couldn’t. She wanted him. Once had not been enough. A hundred times wouldn’t be enough. She was falling in love with him. If she had any willpower at all, she’d never see him again.

The door burst open and Phil marched in.

So much for willpower. With a silent groan she turned off the CD player. The jungle music stopped.

“Phil! How nice of you to drop by.” Terrance struck a pose. “How do you like my costume?”

He glanced briefly at the dancer. “Good muscle tone. Guard the door. Don’t let anyone in.”

“Oh, of course. Anything for you, Phil.” Terrance scurried out the door.

“Somebody has a crush,” Cora Lee murmured in a singsong voice.

“Enough,” Vanda muttered. “What are you doing here, Phil?” And why was he looking around so carefully?

He circled her desk. “Phineas and Hugo are checking the main room. Have you seen any suspicious-looking people here tonight?”

Vanda shrugged. “Most of our customers look a little strange. What’s going on?”

He moved closer to the credenza where her printer and fax machine rested. “You’re in grave danger.”

Was he sniffing her office equipment? “In danger from what? Overpriced ink cartridges?”

“It must be Max the Mega Member,” Pamela whispered dramatically. “He’s come to exact the ultimate revenge.”

“Ultimate?” Vanda asked wryly. “He’s already tried to kill me. How do you get more ultimate than that?”

“He would kill you in an extremely gruesome manner,” Pamela explained. “Mind you, it would be hard to top a python, but I’m sure he could come up with something completely horrid.”

“Thanks for the thought.” Vanda continued to watch Phil. Now he was sniffing around her file cabinets.

“Maybe it’s Corky Courrant,” Cora Lee suggested. “She’s sworn to see you ruined.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” Vanda stood and wandered closer to Phil. “Are you going to tell me who—”