Tribes Of The Vampire - The Jaded Hunter Part 8

Stagnant air curled with smoke from burning cigarettes. When the old vampire didn't answer, Mack dared a glance at him. The face hadn't moved. Mack made out the flatness of the creature's nose and the thinness of his lips more from memory than the light afforded him in the dark corner.

"Has something happened, Pietro?" Mack whispered, growing alarmed. He did his best to sound calm, but his words were a bit rushed.

No," Pietro answered evenly. His words were thick in his Albanian accent, though his English was flawless. He didn't move, taking no enjoyment from their surroundings. He looked out from the straight length of his dark brown hair, the eternally graying temples hugged to his cheeks, snuffing his ears from view. "I am monitoring a situation here."

"What situation?" Mack demanded. Even though his tone was forceful, he still didn't meet the vampire's eyes. He knew better than to study the old gaze too long.

"It is nothing to be concerned over," the ancient voice allowed. "Just a vampire and his club."

"Fine." Mack waved his hand in distraction. Balling his fist, he pressed it hard into his lips, sighing heavily from his nose. The nostrils flared like an angry bull.

"What urgency forces you to seek me out?" Pietro asked at length. He lifted his hand absently as a woman tried to near the table.

She turned around, taking her tray with her. The microphone crackled in the background as a new speaker cleared his throat.

"Is the list you gave me accurate?" Mack queried. Finally getting the nerve to look Pietro in the eyes, he studied the humorless expression.

"Yes," Pietro drew out with a rustling to his word. A woman with pink hair pa.s.sed their table, her bangs pulled high off her head.

She didn't pay any mind to the vampire and his mortal companion as she led her lover away. Pietro waited for her to pa.s.s, glancing briefly at her back, sensing she was undead. Then, smiling enigmatically, he added, "As complete as you need it to be."

"Then you have left some names off," Mack concluded. "I thought as much. Why? Who are you protecting?"

Pietro's lips tilted. He didn't answer.

"You promised that Jade and I would be protected," Mack exerted. His breath left his throat in a hiss. His eyes glared in helplessness as he waited for Pietro to answer.

"And so you have been," Pietro responded. "Here you sit before me--protected."

"Jaden has been marked," Mack insisted. "Then she was careless," the ancient vampire shrugged. "You should have trained her better. I told you all she would need to know. Methinks it is you who cannot control her."

"She is trained," Mack defended. "And she is loyal to me. She listens to me. You wanted proof of it so I gave you proof. Bhaltair is dead, is he not? Dead by her hand."

"Mmm," Pietro hummed wisely. His eyes closed. Before opening them, he said, "You tricked her."

Mack ignored the accusation. Frustrated, he said, "She was attacked by an aged vampire. One she was not prepared to fight."

"If she was not prepared, she shouldn't have sought him out," the creature said evenly. He held no sympathy for the mortal dhampir.

"She did not seek him out," Mack retorted in mounting frustration. He pounded his fist on the table in anger. Pietro raised a brow in warning. Mack knew well that Pietro didn't like tempers. Mack raised his hands in apology. Softening his tone, he managed through his frustration, "She was sought out. I believe the one that has sought her is named Tyr. The only reference I can find for such a creature is in a book of myths. It is said he is a legendary Dark Knight."

"He is," Pietro said evenly.

"Then it is true," Mack whispered, shaking his head. "There is no hope for Jaden. She can't possibly defeat one so strong."

Pietro shrugged, unconcerned.

"You sent him after her," Mack accused fervently. "Why? We had a deal. I have kept my end of the bargain. I have killed who you've asked me to kill. And I have done what you have asked me to do. Our plans are so close to becoming a reality."

"Not I," he responded, "but the council. They caught wind of her activities. They sent him to investigate her."

"So you knew?" Mack asked. "You knew they would send Tyr after her if she killed Bhaltair."

"I knew only that he was watching her," Pietro answered. "But I didn't know he would mark her--such a curious thing that, but hardly worth noting."

"I won't lose Jaden like I lost her mother," Mack swore. "You promised me protection. Call Tyr off. Get rid of him."

"Mayhap, you won't have to lose anyone," Pietro murmured. His eyes lit with a devious charm.

"What do you mean?" Mack asked, inspired by the familiar look in his companion's features.

"Use the Dark Knight to your advantage," Pietro answered. "His blood is strong and pure. It is second to only that of the tribal leaders. It will help you in your cause."

"And how do I capture him?" Mack gulped. His brain formed around the idea greedily. His heart pounded with excitement.

"You have an expendable army," Pietro shrugged. "And you have your niece. If he has marked her, he will come for her."

"You mean use her as bait?" Mack murmured, part in disgust and part in uneasy consideration.

Pietro nodded once.

"Maybe he only tracks her," Mack mumbled, doubtful. "What if he doesn't come for her at all?"

"Vampires are drawn to those they mark. And I have seen the beauty your niece was in her youth. If the rumors of it are now true, he will go to her again. The Draugers," Pietro stopped with a look of disgust as he mentioned the tribe, "are vain in that way. Beauty and youth sway them. You should use her as bait. Then, when he comes, trap him."

"But he may kill her," Mack protested, torn between his ambition and his love for his only family.

"Yes," Pietro said without sympathy or pity, "he may kill her either way."

Mack turned his gaze away, knowing he would do as Pietro said. He always did as Pietro said. He didn't have a choice. It tore at his gut to use Jaden, but he had done it her whole life. Soon though, his work would pay off. Then Jaden would understand the sacrifices they both had to make. She would be happy then. He would make her happy.

"I am famished," Pietro said quietly. His gaze traveled down to the table.

Mack visibly swallowed before jostling out of his jacket. Rolling up his sleeve, he laid out his arm across the table. Bracing himself for the first sting of pain, he didn't have to wait long. Pietro leaned forward, his fangs biting into the flesh offered him. Mack turned his gaze away, staring at the stage. His jaw hardened at the feel of cold fingers wrapping around his forearm. He felt teeth moving within him, lips sucking the fresh wound.

Soon it was over. Pietro didn't bother to stay around. Within a blink he was gone. Mack grimaced, reaching to a nearby table to grab a napkin. He pushed it to his opened wound and bent his elbow to apply pressure. Glancing around to make sure no one saw the interaction, he waved a waitress for a drink.

Soon, he thought. Soon it will be all over. And I'll finally be free.

Chapter Six.

New York City, New York

Rick sighed nervously, laying Jaden down gently on his bed. Drawing his hands out from underneath her unmoving body, he tenderly pushed the hair back from her face. Her head rolled to the side, limp. He maneuvered it back onto the pillow.

"Don't worry, Jade," he whispered softly as he adjusted her limbs. He knew she couldn't hear him, but he talked anyway. "You'll be safe here. I'll keep you safe."

Rick watched her face carefully, hearing the even fall of her breath. The sound was only outdone by the loud hum of the refrigerator coming from the other room.

There were no windows in his bedroom. A single thread of light made its way from a lamp in his living room, giving her pale cheek a soft glow. Taking a quilt from the end of his bed, he covered her up and tucked the edges around her slender frame. Still she didn't move.

Rick let loose a deep breath as he touched her motionless cheek one last time. The longing he felt for her welled inside his chest.

He'd loved her for a long time and part of him believed that if he just waited long enough, she would come to feel the same way for him. He had felt it in her when they first met--before the reality of their worlds collided. He could give her s.p.a.ce, because he knew she had a hard life. Mack MacNaughton wasn't exactly the most affectionate of father figures. Stretching his neck, Rick wearily rubbed the tension from his muscles as he stood. He made his way to his living room, leaving the door cracked so he could listen for her as he lay on the couch.

Picking her duffel bag up as he walked, he dropped it unceremoniously on his metal coffee table. His feet didn't break stride as he retrieved a bottle of beer from his kitchen. Twisting the cap, he threw it in the general direction of the wastebasket. It bounced off the wall, landing neatly in its target.

Rick didn't wait to watch it. Going to Jaden's bag, he took a long pull off of his beer, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. He studied the bag for a moment, debating with himself. Then, his decision made, he sat on the couch.

Rick unzipped the bag, looking in over the content. It had been so heavy that he expected to see an a.r.s.enal of weaponry within.

Instead, he found her clothes. He smiled slightly, seeing the haphazard way they were thrown into the bag. She hadn't stopped to fold them. Snagging the strap of her underwear with the corner of his pinkie, he lifted it up into the light. He grinned sheepishly, gazing at the fine lace panties. He couldn't stop his mind from picturing them on her. Wearily, he glanced at the door to his bedroom. How he wished things were different between them.

Dropping the panties back inside the bag, he dipped his hand in after them to feel around. His fingers met the bottom. Just as they began to curl around the book's edges, a deadly voice intruded his thoughts.

"Did you think you could protect her from me?"

Rick startled. His hand hit his beer, pouring the content onto the floor, the liquid dumping and gurgling until empty. The gla.s.s rolled off the table with a crash. Rick ignored it. He stared at the large vampire before him. Behind the intruder, the door was still locked, his windows undisturbed.

"You're him, aren't you?" Rick asked, his mouth hard. He expected to face Jaden's devil some night. He just didn't expect it to be so soon.

Tyr watched the man in displeasure. He could hear Rick's mortal heart beating violently, though his body was calm. He smelled the strength in his blood, a strong life full of potent health.

"I have come for Miss MacNaughton. Step aside," Tyr ordered. He moved forward. To his pleasure, the man didn't move. He was glad he didn't. He wanted to fight him. He wanted to hit him for presuming to take Jaden away. He wanted to hit him because Jaden went with him. Tyr could detect her sleeping in the man's bedroom.

"She won't leave here," Rick said forcefully. The blonde giant in front of him chuckled. "State your business."

"My business?" Tyr chuckled, a humorless sound meant to install fear. "You know what I am, mortal. I am her master and I have come for her. You have no business trying to stop me."

"Jaden has no master," Rick took a step back, keeping his body between the mysterious vampire and the door. He knew if the vampire got past him, Jaden would be helpless to fight him off. And he was the one who drugged her and left her vulnerable. He had to protect her. It was his duty.

"Do you think you are good enough for her, mortal? Do you think you can understand her?" He felt the feelings the man possessed and hated them. He tried to block them from his body, not wanting to feel the other man's love within him. Taunting where he knew he would do the most damage, Tyr continued, "You'll never be worthy of her. She knows it, too. I can feel inside of her. I feel everything inside of her. I know her better than you ever could. She is beyond you, mortal."

Rick s.h.i.+vered at the low whisper. The words gave him pause, denting the hope he clung to for so long. The vampire's strike was deep.

"She won't have you," Tyr whispered. The ice blue of his eyes glazed in emotionless candor. "And she does not love you." "And you won't have her." Rick growled, darting forward to attack the gigantic enemy. Bravely, he struck out. He couldn't listen anymore.

Tyr let him punch his jaw, feeling the hard snap of it glancing off his chin. His lips opened. A thin trail of blood dripped where his bottom fang tore open the delicate tissue of his lip. Licking the b.l.o.o.d.y wound, his gaze bore into Rick's. The gashed closed, healing shut. Rick hesitated. The two stared at each other for a long, silent moment. Then suddenly, with a snap of his hand, Tyr hit him. Rick went flying across the room, banging loudly into the plaster wall. His body dented into it before crumbling on the ground.

Tyr frowned. Rick was a strong man, one that would be a great human warrior. But he was no match for a Dark Knight. An army would be no match for him. Tyr knew mortals couldn't kill him. They had tried and they always failed.

Tyr stalked to the fallen soldier. Rick groaned, looking up at him weakly. Tyr grabbed the man by the collar. Hatred and jealousy seethed in the vampire's breast. Tyr acted on animal instinct, his fangs straining to bite into the man's neck. Rick moaned, feeling the sharp pierce gouging into his artery. The fangs sliced through flesh like it was water. Rick's lips parted to draw a ragged breath. Spit gurgled up from his throat. He was helpless against the monster sucking and drinking along his skin.

Tyr swallowed with blind abandon, unmindful of what he did. He felt the man's life slipping away. He felt death coming swiftly as he stole the man's existence. Rick's power flooded him. Suddenly, Tyr stopped. He pulled back, his eyes tortured with what he was doing. Rick hung limp, pa.s.sed out from the rapid blood loss. Blue lines edged the man's lips. Blood trailed from four puncture marks on his thick neck.

Tyr felt the heady energy life swirling in his head. He felt it in his eyes, filling them with the power of bloodl.u.s.t. His mouth opened wide, wanting to continue, wanting to taste, glorifying in the pureness of the man's heart, the pureness of his blood. Rick was untainted by the normal human failings. His story was in the flavor of his life's essence. He was a good soldier, doing what he thought was best for the world.

Tyr's mouth closed as he fought to gain control over his greedy hunger. Pus.h.i.+ng his lips to his teeth, he swallowed the remaining drops of blood lingering in his mouth.

Slowly, Tyr lowered the man to the ground. Rick wasn't dead, but if he lost any more blood he would be soon. Tortured by what he had almost done out of jealously, Tyr bit his finger, drawing a droplet of his own. Swiping the wound on his victim's neck, he watched as his blood sealed the holes. Rick might live, but he would be weak for some time if he did.

Without a backward glance, Tyr went to Jaden. He saw her sleeping peacefully on the bed. She didn't move. Her heartbeat was steady, too steady for a dhampir. Her power was dulled. He couldn't wake her.

Crossing to her with boneless grace, Tyr leaned the back of his hand to whisk past her face. Her eyes opened briefly to stare at him. Her pupils were small pin-pointed dots of black.

Jaden? He whispered into her mind, his lips not moving.

"There are too many secrets, devil. You cannot hope to discover them all," she hissed, before falling into the lethargy of sleep once more. The flash of awareness was enough. Tyr knew she was drugged.

He had no choice but to take her with him. In her condition, there was no way for him to discover what she knew. Her eyes would be unreadable, clouded as they were with the haze of sleep. Her mind would be numbed from the forced slumber. As she dreamt, her thoughts would scatter, making the leftover fragments hard to decipher. It would take too long for him to probe within the muddled depths. Tyr cursed. He wouldn't have his answers tonight.

Scooping her up into the fold of his arms, he rested her cheek against his chest. She mumbled lightly before settling next to him.

Her hand twitched, pressing against his heartbeat before falling to her stomach. Going to the living room window, he stepped dispa.s.sionately over Rick. The man didn't move, barely breathed.

Tyr jerked open the window with one hand, unable to form into mist with his burden. On last impulse, he grabbed the duffel bag laden with feminine clothing and slung it over his shoulder. If Rick recovered he didn't want the man fingering Jaden's intimates again. He didn't want the mortal to have anything of her. Tyr had little time to wonder at the jealous act as he left. Within a blink, he was gone, flying effortlessly through the night with Jaden in his arms.

Mack pulled the mauve privacy curtains along the metal track to block out the insufferable sounds of misery. The thick material was no match for the howls of pain escaping the lips of a man withdrawing from heroin. Directing a scowl at Tom, he ordered, "For goodness sake, Carter! Get this man a private room."

Tom nodded, hurrying to do as he was commanded.

Mack wrinkled his nose, sniffing in protest against the disinfectant smell of the hospital. The intensive care unit was unusually lively due to the man hollering obscenities at pa.s.sing nurses as his body thrashed against restraints. One moment he was begging for drugs, the next he was cursing the world for his misfortune. Mack had no pity for the man. He had no compa.s.sion for the weakness of addicts.

Eyeing Rick's pale form on the bed, he met the man's wakening gaze. His cheeks were starting to flush from the four units of blood he had been given, but Mack could tell the man was still weak from his ordeal. Absently, he tossed his leather briefcase and coat in a chair.

Going to the bed, he looked at the large IV in the man's arm. The clear plastic tube led up to a hydrating bag of saline. Rick's skin was clammy, his face taut against his cheekbones.

"What happened?" Mack asked in his ever matter-of-fact tone. The man next to them yelled in pain, again demanding drugs. Rick flinched.

Mack frowned. Turning, he disappeared behind the curtain. Rick heard a loud smack and then silence. When Mack came around the corner, he was wiping his knuckles on a handkerchief. Drawing closer to the bed, Mack laid his hand on the railing.

"There, I daresay he won't be bothering anyone for a spell," Mack said by way of explanation. Rick smiled in tired grat.i.tude. He hadn't enjoyed wakening to the sounds of the irritating man.