Hungers of the Heart

  Drake was unmoved. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You can kidnap me and drag me up there if you’d like, but that doesn’t mean I’ll work for you?’ But even he heard the doubt in his words.

  Gabriel had said they’d talk about his fate later, but if Jezebel still wanted him gone, he was history. He couldn’t return to Philadelphia. Any other city of any size would already have vampires who would object to his presence. And out in the country or the sub­urbs, the population wasn’t dense enough for him to find the kinds of victims he could live with himself for killing. Assuming he could get himself to feed without Gabriel to vet his victims.

  How easily Padraig could seduce him, given just a little time. He Wasn’t some terrible, cackling villain who repelled anyone who came near him. Drake could never have fallen under the sway of someone like Henri, whose evil nature was always on display. But Padraig’s evil was far more subtle, masked behind a warm and friendly demeanor that could make some­one forget the cold and calculating heart that lay be­neath. He didn’t go out of his way to be cruel, but he would never let a matter of conscience stand between him and what he wanted. He was a prince among gang lords, but that wasn’t saying much.

  “My people are no longer the Blood and Death gang,” Padraig continued. “We have grown far more civilized since last you and I met. I might on occa­sion need to use you as muscle, but it would not be your full-time job. I would do my best to accommodate some of your more inconvenient moral qualms.”

  Drake couldn’t help snorting at that. “You were murderous, conniving bastard a hundred years ago and you’re a murderous, conniving bastard now. If I allowed you to lull me into some sort of false sense of security, you’d have me separated from my humanity before I knew what hit me.”

  Padraig grinned at that. “Perhaps. But you’re a vampire, lad. A Killer. Have you any idea how you look riding on that moral high horse?”

  Drake reached for the car door and was surprise when Padraig didn’t stop him. Trying not to let surprise show, he shoved the door open and step out. Still his maker didn’t stop him, so Drake start across the garage toward the lighted exit sign.

  By the time he reached the door, Padraig had appeared at his side as if by magic.

  “Fine night for a walk, Johnnie-boy,” he said with another one of his grins.

  Drake sighed, stepping into the stairwell with Padraig on his heels. “Are you going to let me walk away, or are you going to drag me back to New York against my will? Make up your mind.”

  Padraig ignored the question. “There’s so much anger in you. But why should you be angry with Johnnie? Did I wrong you?”

  Drake shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  This evening was just getting better and better. Drake reached the doorway at the bottom of the stairwell and yanked the door open with far more strength than necessary. Perhaps if he simply refused to speak to Padraig, he’d go away.

  Drake didn’t really believe that, but at this point anything was worth a try. He stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked both ways, but the truth was, he’d paid little attention when Padraig was driving and had no idea where they were. Which way was home? Assuming he had a home.

  He picked a direction at random and wasn’t in the least surprised that his maker fell into step beside him.

  “Ah, now we’re trying the silent treatment, are we?”

  Drake gritted his teeth against the urge to retort.

  “Why are you in Baltimore?” Padraig asked, changing tactics. Drake gave him a sidelong look but still refused to answer. “The last I’d heard, you had joined forces with the Master of Philadelphia. He and his Guardians are quite famous in some circles, you know. it always surprised me that a man of his ster­ling character would take in a Killer, but I suppose those inconvenient morals of yours served you well?’

  Temper sizzled through Drake’s nerves, and he shot his maker a murderous glare. Clearly Padraig knew he was touching a sore spot, for he continued hammering on it.

  “You were with him for a century, and now you’re here. One can’t help but be curious why the change.”

  “Be as curious as you like,” Drake snapped, then hit his tongue.

  “I’ll venture a guess. According to the self-proclaimed ‘Seigneur of the Eastern Seaboard,’ the Master of Philadelphia has made a considerable leap in power lately. Perhaps he has grown too powerful to need his hired muscle anymore?’

  Drake knew his face was showing too much reaction, but he couldn’t control the pulse of pain within him.

  “You never belonged in Philadelphia,” Padraig said. “You were never one of them. And you’ll never be one of these Baltimore Guardians, either?’

  “Shut up!” Drake snapped. “You don’t know anything about it.” -

  Padraig just laughed. “If I were off base, my you would be shrugging off my words.” He came stop, grabbing Drake’s arm and jerking him arc so that they were face to face.

  “Johnnie Drake was never meant to be a benevolent pet on a leash. He’s a predator, a Killer. An longer you pretend otherwise, the more you will hurt yourself. For all your fine morals, have you been happy in the years since you left me? Would you say that yours has been a life filled with contentment

  Drake snarled and jerked his arm out of Path grip. He’d never particularly thought of himself as unhappy. Yes, there’d been a sense of loneliness that had clung to him, the sense of being on the outside looking in. But he’d always accepted it as the status quo, never questioned if his life could be better

  “I’m not Johnnie Drake,” he told his maker through clenched teeth. “I haven’t been for over a century, and I’ll never go back. I’d rather die.”

  Padraig grinned crookedly. “That can be arranged, boyo.”

  Once again, Drake turned away and started strid­ing down the sidewalk, heedless of where he was go­ing. If Padraig was going to kill him, there was nothing he could do to stop him.

  Padraig’s glamour stopped him in mid-stride. “Still uncommonly stubborn, I see,” Padraig said, stepping in front of him. “I won’t force you to come with me. If you’re to work for me, I want you will­ing.”

  “That’ll never happen.”

  Padraig shrugged. “We’ll see. Perhaps for now you’ll choose to stay with your friends in Baltimore, but you may soon find life here.. . difficult.”

  “What do you mean?”

  For once, Pathaig was not grinning. “Our dear Brigitte will not be content to leave Baltimore or Philadelphia outside her influence. Johnnie, she’s tamed every master from Toronto to Richmond. She chose a small entourage today, but she could have called in many more. I know she still has some hopes that she will win your Gabriel’s allegiance, but she’s already planning alternatives.”

  A chill of unease shivered down Drake’s spine at the news. “What kind of alternatives?”

  Padraig shrugged. “Did you know that your time as interim Master of Baltimore was a test of sorts?”

  “What?”

  “If she decides to dispense with Gabriel, she’ll need someone to run Baltimore for her. I know L has hopes that she’ll merge the Baltimore and Washington families—under his rule, naturally—but feels that’s too large a territory. The last few have been an audition, and I believe my lady been pleased with what she’s seen.”

  Drake curled his lip in a snarl; Padraig laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “I told her you were a practical man,” Padraig continued. “That you would accept her rule even if you didn’t like it because you knew you had no choice Would you rather serve her than serve me?”

  Drake’s hands were fisted at his sides, and without the hunger to spur his temper he felt temp to throw a punch. One that no doubt would never make contact. Unless Padraig thought there some advantage to allowing him to land it.

  “You might want to consider abandoning the sinking ship, Johnnie. All the honor in the world won’t keep it afloat.”

>   Drake met his maker’s eyes. He had no doubt that given a few months under Padraig’s influence, he’d find himself transforming back into Johnnie Drake. And when he’d shrugged off his humanity and embraced himself as a Killer, he would be a bona fide member of Padraig’s “family.” Never again would he be on the outside looking in. Never again would guilt and doubt gnaw at his conscience.

  But the price was too high, tempting though the idea of that oblivion might be.

  “If the ship sinks,” he said, “I’ll go down with it.”

  Padraig gave a derisive snort. “Have it your way, then. If you live through this mess and want to recon­sider my offer, give me a call.” He glanced at his watch. “Well, it’s been lovely catching up with you, lad. I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got a train to catch.”

  Drake frowned. “A train? What about your car?”

  He laughed. “Not mine, boyo. There was such a rush-hour crush at the station I didn’t feel like fight­ing for a cab.”

  “Or paying for one,” Drake muttered under his breath, but of course Padraig heard him and laughed again.

  “Indeed. Why pay when I could so easily persuade a lovely lady to lend me her car for the duration of my stay?”

  Drake resisted the urge to ask whether said lovely lady had survived the persuasion. Sometimes it was better not to know.

  But something other than Padraig’s thievery was bothering Drake, something about what he’d just heard that set alarm bells jangling through his sys­tem. He frowned fiercely, not immediately able to pinpoint the source of his unease.

  “Something wrong, boyo?” Padraig asked.

  Drake grimaced. He could hardly count high enough to number all the things that were wrong. “You were at the train station earlier this evening.”

  Padraig raised an eyebrow. “Aye. What of it?”

  “Charles was at the train station earlier and said he sensed Henri there.” He regarded his maker, and the alarm rose a notch. Something about this was striking Drake as terribly wrong. If only he could figure what.

  Padraig shook his head. “I did not warrant a welcoming committee, I’m afraid. ‘Twas only me at station. Why does it matter?”

  Drake remembered how Charles had looked when Brigitte had discussed her tactics. How he’d smelled scared. Of course, considering the circumstances, he’d had a right to be scared, but still. . . Something had seemed off about it.

  Padraig prodded his shoulder. “What’s eating you, lad?”

  “Something about Charles just isn’t right,” Drake murmured, more to himself than to Padraig.

  Padraig chuckled. “Aye, that’s a fact.” -

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean our lovely Brigitte has found the key to buying his loyalty. You can be certain that he was not taking the Seigneur to safety when we parted ways.”

  Charles had claimed he’d chased Henri until Henri had driven away. True, he might have mistaken Padraig for Henri, given the similarity in their ages, but considering how long Charles had been tailing Henri before he lost him, surely he should have caught sight of him.

  “What was the key to buying his loyalty?” Drake asked.

  Padraig made an expansive gesture. “A woman, naturally.”

  Drake’s blood ran cold. The woman had to be either Faith or Lily, and neither option was acceptable. And then his blood turned to ice water when he re­membered how Henri had coveted Faith. Had Charles delivered her into Henri’s hands?

  “Do you still need that car you borrowed?” he asked his maker, trying to keep calm, though he knew there had to be at least a hint of panic on his face.

  Padraig laughed. “You refuse my kind offer and then expect a favor?” He shook his head. “I’m not walking to the train station from here, Johnnie. What bee’s gotten in your bonnet?”

  But everything in Drake’s body told him time was of the essence, even if he didn’t yet have the faintest idea where Charles might have taken Faith and Lily. “You wouldn’t understand’ he barked at Pathaig, then began sprinting down the sidewalk, looking for a mor­tal whose car he could appropriate without drawing too much attention to himself.

  Once again, Padraig’s glamour seized him, and Drake almost howled in frustration.

  An emergency, Johnnie-boy?” Padraig asked with one of his infuriating grins.

  Fury and fear for Faith’s safety frayed the edges of Drake’s temper. If Padraig’s glamour had been even slightly less powerful, Drake would have shaken it off and attacked. As it was, Padraig merely regarded him with an expression of curiosity.

  Then he smiled and reached into his pocket. “Per­haps a goodwill gesture will help you make the right decision down the road,” Padraig mused half to him­self. He dangled a set of car keys from the ends of his lingers and released Drake from his hold.

  Drake hesitated a moment. “This doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to come to New York.”

  Pathaig inclined his head. “Understood.”

  Drake snatched the keys from his maker’s hand and hurried back toward the garage where the stolen car was parked.

  “Johnnie!” Padraig yelled when Drake had gotten no more than ten yards away. Some instinct he didn’t understand made him look back over his shoulder at his maker.

  “If you’ve got a small airport in the area, you might want to check there. I believe our lady plans to rendezvous with Charles at a jet.”

  Despite the ticking clock, Drake couldn’t help giv­ing Padraig a challenging stare. “You knew all along that he had the girls. And you knew I wouldn’t stand for it. You thought I’d be grateful to you for letting me take the car.”

  Padraig shrugged. “I’ll neither confirm nor deny it. You’d better hurry, though. You wouldn’t want to miss the excitement.”

  Knowing Padraig was right, Drake dismissed his anger and ran for the car.

  18

  DRAKE SPEED-DIALED GABRIEL’S number as he took the stairs in the parking garage two at a time.

  Gabriel answered on the second ring. “Where the fuck are you?” he snarled, proving that he’d at least partially recovered from the tranquilizer.

  “Long story,” Drake said, bursting through the door of the stairwell and into the darkened garage. He hoped he wouldn’t lose the signal as he hurried toward Padraig’s stolen car. “Is there a small airport around here somewhere?”

  “Why?”

  “Just tell me, dammit!” He jerked open the car door and threw himself in.

  “Well, there’s Martin State Airport on Highway 150, but—”

  “Charles is a traitor.” He put the car in reverse and stomped the gas pedal, filling the echoing garage with the squeal of rubber on concrete.

  “And I care about this, why?” There was a cert tightness to Gabriel’s voice that said he was still in pain, but Drake knew he’d be capable of san even in the midst of being flayed alive.

  “He has Faith and Lily.” Drake remembered suddenly that Gabriel had no idea who Faith and Lily were, but before he could explain, Gabriel interrupted.

  “Don’t be an idiot. Jez told me you’re involved with this Faith person, and I can certainly understand your need to mount your white horse and ride to rescue, but—”

  “I’m not abandoning them.” Drake slowed only marginally when he burst through the gate at the garage exit.

  “I didn’t say you should. If you hadn’t interrupted I was going to suggest you come to the house and pick me up.”

  But Drake shook his head. “You’re in the opposite direction from the airport,’ he said, finally seeing landmark he recognized so he could orient himself. “And you’re shot full of tranquilizer.”

  “It wasn’t a request, Drake. Get your ass back to the house. Now.”

  Drake hesitated only a moment before snapping the phone shut and throwing it carelessly onto the passenger seat. He didn’t have time for this. Gabriel wouldn’t want any harm to come to Faith and Liliy, but having never met them, he had no personal stake in this. Drake’s
stake was very, very personal

  He didn’t have the faintest idea what he was going to do if and when he caught up to Charles. All he knew was that he had to do something. He remem­bered how Jez had scorned him for giving up too eas­ily when he knew he was outmatched. He smiled grimly. Well, now he was going to try it her way— and hope that he and those he cared about lived through the effort.

  ***

  ADRENALINE SURGED THROUGH Faith’s system as the final knot binding her legs came loose. Lily sat beside her in the heavy darkness, trying to rub some life into her blood-starved legs. Faith’s own legs screamed with the pins and needles of returning blood, but she would recover quickly.

  “Can you walk?” she whispered to Lily as she did a psychic scan to see where their captors were. It seemed there were two in the plane above them, and Iwo outside. Surely they couldn’t be expecting too much trouble from a six-year-old vampire and a mortal teenager who’d been thoroughly trussed.

  “I’ll try’ Lily whispered back, sniffling.

  Faith touched her sister’s leg and felt the rope bum around one ankle. For a moment, a red haze filled her, and she wanted to kill everyone who had conspired to hurt Lily. Charles most of all. But she couldn’t afford to indulge in revenge fantasies now. She had to get Lily out of here.

  Her glamour was nowhere near as strong as a Killer’s, but nonetheless Faith touched her sister’s mind with it to try to ease the pain.

  “Did you do that?” Lily asked, proving that glamour was working.

  “Yes,” Faith answered. “I don’t know how long I can keep it up. I have to concentrate a lot to do it. Now do you think you can walk?”

  “Yeah.”

  Fumbling in the dark, Faith helped Lily to her feet and guided the two of them to where she remembered the door to be. She had to feel along the wall a while to find it, and she heard Lily’s faint groan when the glamour slipped.