Hungers of the Heart

  Drake followed as more vamps filled the hallway behind him, milling about and looking disoriented.

  The screams stopped, suddenly muffled, and then into wrenching sobs. Drake followed the sound and found Armand in the den, the mortal girl, clutched in his arms. Her face was pressed into the Seigneurs chest, her hands fisted in the lapels of his jacket, and she sobbed hysterically. Armand led the girl’s head, turning his body slightly to shield her from something. He met Drake’s eyes and jerked his chin toward whatever was behind him.

  Drake took a step forward and flinched at what he saw—not because of his own sensibilities, but because he couldn’t help seeing it through the eyes of a sixteen-year-old girl.

  One of Armand’s vampires, a pretty red-headed woman, lay sprawled on the floor, dead eyes wide staring at the ceiling. The handle of a knife pro­truded from her ribs, and blood, many hours old, dead on the floor beside her. One outstretched arm had apparently lain in a band of sunlight since her death, for the skin was blackened and withered, and the room stank of burnt flesh. Under that stink, Drake thought he caught a whiff of sex, though he couldn’t be sure.

  The hallway outside the room was filling with vampires and mortals—mostly Armand’ s entourage, but Drake also caught sight of Harry, who as a six­-foot-four black man was hard to miss, and Jez, who’d pushed her way to the front. No doubt Eric was in there somewhere, too.

  “Lily!” a voice called from the crowd, and people started moving aside as Faith, her face white, forced her way through.

  “Faith!” Lily shouted back, struggling free of Armand and throwing herself into her sister’s arms.

  “Oh, sweetie. are you okay?” Faith asked, holding her tightly, but Lily just cried.

  Armand’s face was closed and shuttered looked from the body, to Drake, then to Faith.

  “Everyone out except Drake and Faith,” he commanded.

  Drake could well understand why the Seigneur wanted to speak to him in private, but he couldn’t understand why Faith needed to be here. Especially when her sister was in such distress.

  “Seigneur—” Faith started to say, but he cut off.

  “I said everyone out!” he snapped, and Faith looked stricken as her sister clung tighter.

  Jezebel, whom Drake had half expected to object to Armand’s barked orders, stepped into the room and reached a hand out for Lily.

  “Why don’t you come with me, honey?” prompted gently. “You don’t want to stay in anyway.”

  “Faith,” Lily whimpered.

  Faith swallowed hard, her eyes full of pain. “Go with her, Lily. Just give me a couple of minutes talk with Uncle Armand.” Her voice was calm soothing, despite the turmoil in her eyes.

  The Seigneur on the other hand looked like he was about to explode as he glared at Faith for no reason that Drake could fathom.

  The others had all fled the fury in the Seigneur’s expression, only Jez remaining to gently take hold of Lily’s arm. Lily finally allowed herself to be led away, transferring her clinging hold to Jezebel. The slammed behind them, but it was Armand’s that slammed it, not a human or vampire hand.

  “Did you do this?” Armand growled at Faith the moment the door was shut.

  Drake blinked in surprise. How interesting that aft­er avowal last night that she wasn’t a Killer, she was the first one the Seigneur suspected of murder.

  Faith kept her eyes glued to the floor. “No, Seigneur” she said in a whisper.

  Armand strode across the room and grabbed her shoulders in a brutal grip. “Look at me when you speak!” he shouted, giving her a shake.

  Her face even whiter, Faith obediently raised her and looked into his eyes. “I didn’t do it, Seigneur.”

  He nodded sharply. Anger still radiated from him, out it no longer seemed directed at Faith. “Very well. Get out.” He gave her a little shove toward the door, it’d she hurried out.

  Armand then turned his attention to Drake.

  “If you or one of your people did this, I will kill you all.”

  Drake shook his head and looked at the dead woman. He didn’t even know her name—Armand hadn’t felt it necessary to introduce most of his en­tourage. “I can guarantee you it wasn’t one of us. What reason could any of us possibly have to kill her?”

  Armand frowned down at her. “Marie had a unique way of making enemies, particularly among other women.”

  Drake almost laughed, but managed to swallow “Jezebel’s never killed anyone, and if she were going to start, it wouldn’t be when her home is occupied half a dozen foreign vampires who can overpower her without breaking a sweat.”

  Armand glared at him. “My vampires wouldn’t dare harm someone under my protection.”

  Drake met that glare, undaunted, and refrain-from pointing “out that Armand had accused Faith doing just that. “Well my vampires have no reason to.” He looked at the dead woman once more, not at all sorry she was dead. Faith’s claims to the contrary, all the vampires of Armand’s entourage had to be Killers, and death was no doubt what they deserved.

  “Well, somebody killed her,” the Seigneur said. if it wasn’t the Guardians, and it wasn’t someone else in the entourage. . . “Brigitte,” Drake re­sponded.

  The Seigneur looked momentarily startled by the suggestion. Then the expression on his face hardened. “I suppose she could be responsible. She can walk by day, so she could have done this when the rest of us were asleep.” He frowned at the body. “Marie was my fledgling. I should have felt her death.” The frown deepened. “But I was tired and slept before sunrise. Anyone could have done this, and I would not hay known. Besides, if Brigitte had done it, she would have killed us all.”

  “Perhaps it wouldn’t be as much fun that way?’

  Armand grimaced, then rejected the idea. “No. It was someone in this house. Brigitte’s crazy, but not a tool. Charles and I are both old enough to keep watch during the day as long as we are not in the direct sun­light. She knows that. She’s not stupid enough to give us a warning like this first.” -

  Drake could hardly say he knew Brigitte well, but based on what he did know, he couldn’t agree with the Seigneur. No, she was not a fool. But her ego was enormous. As far as she was concerned, she could play to her heart’s content, and no one could stop her.

  The Seigneur stared at Drake coldly. “When I find out which of your people is responsible, you will not stand in the way of my vengeance.”

  Drake shook his head. “I guarantee it was not one of my people. And if you harm one of them, I can guarantee you that Gabriel will hunt you to the ends at’ the earth to get his own vengeance.” He made sure his own stare was as cold as the Seigneur’s.

  “I find it interesting,” the Seigneur said, “that you would threaten us with your master’s vengeance when you claim that Brigitte has him imprisoned.”

  “I don’t expect him to remain her prisoner for­ever,” Drake answered calmly.

  “I really must insist that I speak to your master,” the Seigneur said, as if he’d lost his last doubt that Gabriel was available.

  “You can insist all you want. Somehow, I don’t think Brigitte’s going to allow it.”

  The Seigneur waved off the protest. “You’ll find a way to reach him. You don’t want to know the consequences of failing me.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Now,” Armand said, “my ward has suffered a terrible shock. I’m going to take her mind off things spoiling her shamelessly. I suggest you dispose of remains while we are away.”

  He didn’t wait for Drake to agree, instead turning and striding out of the room. Shortly afterward, Drake heard the thump of the Seigneur’s shoes on the stairs. Then silence.

  Barefoot and shirtless, Drake climbed the stairs a more sedate pace. By the time he reached the ha way that led to his room, the Seigneur had emerged with Lily. She was still pale and shaky-looking, but she tried for a brave smile. The Seigneur looked at her with what seemed to be genuine affection. Faith hovered nearby, her f
ace almost as pale as Lily’s. Inoring her, Armand paused only long enough to issue orders to his entourage before leading the girl out into the chilly autumn night. Charles and the remaining vampires except Faith accompanied the Seigneur. The mortals disappeared into their various rooms. Leaving only Faith, who stood in the hail, eyes glistening with tears as she stared at the stairway down which the Seigneur and her sister had disappeared.

  ***

  THERE WAS A damp patch on Faith’s shoulder, fabric of her nightshirt soaked with Lily’s tears. She stroked her fingers over the dampened cloth as she followed Armand and Lily with her psychic senses until they were out of her range. Then, some of the strength seemed to fade from her legs, and she had to lean back against the wall for support.

  The knowledge that he was out there right now, buying Lily’s innocent affection, ate at her heart. And her own helplessness to stop him made her stomach clench into a painful knot.

  She was so sunk in misery she didn’t notice Drake approaching until he was practically on top of her. When she snapped out of it enough to see him, she sucked in a quick, startled breath.

  He had obviously been roused from his bed by Lily’s cries. His wiry black hair was messy and tou­sled by sleep, but that wasn’t what stole the moisture from her mouth. Somehow, in the heat of the moment downstairs, she had failed to notice Drake’s state of undress, his feet and chest bare. In fact, she suspected be was wearing nothing except for those sexy leather pants. She allowed herself one quick glance at the muscular planes of his chest before her eyes slid away in embarrassment.

  Just out of bed, Drake looked sexy as sin, but the I eat rose in Faith’s cheeks as she realized what a sight she must be. Her oversized, shapeless nightshirt hung almost to her knees. Once upon a time, it had been a deep shade of purple, but repeated washings had faded it to a soft lavender that made her look even paler than she was, and the hem was beginning to unravel. She was sure her eyes were red and puffy, and she didn’t even want to think about what her hair must look like.

  “Was she a friend of yours?” Drake asked. His tone of voice was bland, as if he hadn’t heard the Seigneur accuse her of murder, but she knew he was fishing.

  Swiping the remaining tears from her eyes, she pushed her hair from her face and met his suspicious gaze. “No.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m not sorry she’s dead, either. She always saw as ‘the competition,’ and she’s threatened to kill me more than once. But I didn’t kill her.”

  He leaned against the wall opposite her, arms crossed over that distractingly bare chest, legs cross at the ankles.. “But the Seigneur has reason to belie you might have.”

  She growled in disgust. “Yes, he would think something like that. Six years I’ve served him, and he hasn’t a clue who I am.” Dammit! She sound for all the world like she had hurt feelings, which was ridiculous. What did she care what Armand thought of her? He was a ruthless Killer, and a leader of scores of other ruthless Killers, and there was no rea­son in the world why he should understand that she was different.

  She ran a hand through her snarled hair. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks. I didn’t kill Marie.” No matter how much I might have fantasized about doing it. “And I know none of Armand’s other people would dare.”

  “Yes, I’ve already had this conversation with him.

  My people would have bad no reason to kill her. I suspect Brigitte.”

  Faith supposed that made a kind of sense, though she couldn’t say she understood La Vieille’s daughter or her motivations. They had never been formally in­troduced, though Faith had seen her at Armand’s manor house more than once. Her and her creepy fledgling, Henri, whom Armand sometimes used as a threat against people who incurred his wrath—toe the line, or the next time Henri came calling, Armand would lend you out to him for the duration of his stay. He had never followed through on that threat, thank God, and Faith had the distinct impression Henri held that against him.

  Tears suddenly blurred her vision. “How could Ar­mand bring Lily into the middle of this?” He was out there even now, with Charles and his other two sur­viving fledglings at his side. Could all of them to­gether defeat Brigitte and Henri if they decided to attack? She wished she felt more confident that the answer was yes. -

  The thought of Lily in Henri’s clutches made her sway dizzily. Drake reached out a hand to steady her. She held onto him, needing the anchor, as she closed her eyes and tried to calm the frantic rush of her heart.

  The thought of Lily in Henri’s clutches made her sway dizzily. Drake reached out a hand to steady her. She held onto him, needing the anchor, as she closed her eyes and tried to calm the frantic rush of her heart.

  Drake moved in closer to her, and she could feel the heat of his body. “I don’t know what Brigitte’s game is,” he said, “but I do know she has delusions that she’ll eventually talk Gabriel into becoming her ally. And she also knows how terribly protective Gabriel is of mortals in general and children in particular. She won’t dare harm your sister for fear that he would never forgive her.”

  Faith opened her eyes and chewed her lip. “You re ally think so?” she asked, desperately needing to believe him.

  “There are two people in this house who an safe—your sister, and Jezebel.” His face took on grim cast, despite the hint of a grin on his lips. “Tb’ rest of us, though, are fair game.”

  The thought’ inspired little fear in Faith’s heart. She would sacrifice every vampire here—including herself—if only she could get Lily free of them all. Because Armand had carefully sheltered her from the harshest realities of vampire existence, today was the first time Lily had seen a dead body. And though she knew intellectually that Armand and all his people were Killers, she gave herself the illusion they weren’t really bad people.

  Armand was out there with her now, buying hem expensive gifts to salve her emotional wounds, se­ducing her in ways that no words of Faith’s couli undo. Even if Faith should miraculously come UJ with a viable escape plan, she couldn’t guan Lily would go along with it. She might have to kid­nap her own sister to escape Arrnand’s influence.

  But if that was what it would take, then that was exactly what she’d do.

  6

  GABRIEL HAD WHAT Drake considered an ingen­iously simple method for disposing of his victims— via a pet crematorium. During Camille’s reign as Master of Baltimore, she had seduced one of the mor­als who worked there with a promise of power and eternal life, and he had given her full access to his establishment. The victims of vampire kills in Baltimore vanished without a trace, their ashes mixed ignomin­iously with dogs, cats, and the occasional gerbil.

  Camille had long ago killed her mortal henchman, hut Gabriel had learned through him how the deed was done and had all the necessary keys. Having already had to dispose of a couple of his own kills, Drake had his own set of keys, which was how he found himself in the dark and depressing building in hue early hours of the evening, carrying a dead vampire whom the mortal authorities could never be allowed to find.

  When he’d finished his distasteful errand slipped out the building’s back door, he almost straight into Henri. He jumped back, startled and irritated with himself for not having performed a psychic scan of the area before stepping out into darkness. Brigitte could mask her presence, but as far as Drake knew, Henri did not possess the same skill.

  Drake belatedly performed the scan, but wasn’t surprised that he couldn’t pick up Brigitte’s for print. He had no doubt she was close by, however. He got the impression she kept her fledgling on a short leash.

  “She was a lousy lay,” Henri said, his thick accent making the colloquial words sound odd coming from his mouth. He wrinkled his nose. “I can’t imagine why the Seigneur was so reluctant to share her.”

  Drake could only assume he was talking about dead vampire. “So, you killed her?” Drake inquired, wondering what Henri was up to.

  Brigitte’s fledgling grinned. It was an unsettling expression, per
haps because of the unpleasant glow in his eyes.

  Drake took that as a yes and frowned. “You kille­d her because she was a lousy lay?”

  Henri laughed. “No, no. I would have killed her even were she the best lay in existence. A reminder of what happens when the Seigneur refuses to share his toys.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want the other toys the Seigneur has refused to share.”

  A muscle in the side of Drake’s jaw ticked. He had sinking feeling he knew just who Henri meant. But why would Henri tell him his plans?

  “Here is the game,” Henri said. “You tell the Seigneur exactly what my mistress and I plan to do. He can try to stop us. And he will find out just how helpless he is, even with his great entourage at his Side. In France, my mistress bowed to him because he had the weight of La Vieille behind him. Here, he has nothing.” He laughed again. “Except you.”

  “II’ she wanted to kill them all, she could have done it during the day while you were. . . visiting.”

  “That is not how my mistress wishes to do it. She prefers finesse to slaughter. They will slip through the Seigneur’s fingers one by one. And we will not enter the house again, so don’t bother setting a trap.” He got that nasty, eerie glow in his eyes again. “We will leave the girls for last. My mistress has promised I can have them both while the Seigneur watches.” He reached down to stroke himself.

  Drake’s lip curled with distaste. “Brigitte would never promise you the mortal girl. Not if she ever hopes to win Gabriel’s cooperation.”

  There was no mistaking the flash of jealousy in Henri’s eyes, though he quickly suppressed it. “I can he most persuasive,” was all he said, and his eyes narrowed with pleasure at his own touch.