A Wicked Hunger (Creatures of Darkness 1) (9 page)

“Not entirely,” Dane replied.
“Looks like he’s been shot with acid rounds.”

“Take him in through the back,” Cortez ordered, still staring at her as though she were a puzzle lacking a couple pieces.

Dane yanked the passenger side door open and the two vamps hauled Mace out, carrying him like a sack toward the alley behind the building.

She tried to follow them, but Cortez was still holding her arm. “Let me go,” she demanded.

“They’ll take care of him. I have questions for you,” Cortez replied.

“I can answer them later. Let me go with him.”

“I don’t think—”

“I’m going with him!” She yanked her arm out of his grasp.

The two vamps toting Mace paused to fix shocked stares at her.

Her gut dropped. She had never acted so carelessly around vampires. She pictured a lonely grain of sand bouncing wildly around the funneled top of an hourglass, circling the chasm where its counterparts had already plummeted to a heaping pile of shit-out-of-luck.

After a moment of tense silence, Cortez waved his cohorts on. Then he strolled after them, allowing her the option to follow or not.

Cora managed to suck in a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as the flash-freeze in her veins thawed. She eyed the Jeep, debating once more if she should take her chances
and hightail it out of here.

“Are you coming then?” Cortez called without looking at her, almost sounding amused.

As she fell in step behind him, she wondered when the sand in her hourglass of luck was finally going to run out.

The phrase “polar opposites” came to mind as she took in the interior of the strip club’s back rooms. If the outside was one of those warehouse stores reserved for the lower class, the inside was Saks Fifth Avenue. The exterior had been almost run-down, flat and rust colored.

Yet the long hall she traveled now was anything but.

Vibrant hues of gold, brown, and every other warm color known to man, merged effortlessly with fine looking art in museum-quality frames. Full, potted palms and other exotic plants were placed every few feet.
The line of chandeliers would have appeared gaudy if they were as large as the ones Winston preferred, but these were the perfect size for the space and offered just the right amount of light. 

It was as if the storefront was deliberately dull while
the inside was a hidden gem.

Cora followed the train of vampires into a large bedchamber. Across the room, Dane and the other vamp laid Mace down on an elaborately carved four-poster bed.

Cora took up an unassuming stance by the chaise, hoping to avoid drawing attention.

No such luck.

After ordering Dane to fetch someone named Rita, Cortez turned a blazing gaze on her. “What happened to him?”

Forcing a steady voice, she described all she could. While she spoke, the unnamed vampire retrieved a first-aid kit from an adjoining room Cora assumed was the bathroom. He opened it to retrieve a large bottle of
rubbing alcohol and proceeded to bath Mason’s chest with it. Mace woke instantly, crying out in pain. He blinked, dazedly searching the room till his gaze landed on her. He seemed to relax then.

“I smell him all over you.” Cortez claimed her attention with the accusation in his tone. “I assume you are his consort. Why have you not fed him? He desperately needs blood.”

“I—”

Mace hissed out a straggled, “No. Not from her. Find someone else.”

Cortez appeared perplexed by that, but didn’t argue. “Balthazar, go help Dane find Rita.”

Balthazar nodded and left the room.

“Mace, I don’t mind—” Cora started.

“No.
Anyone but you.”

For some reason, Cora felt slighted
by that. But why? She was off the hook, right? Someone else would be expected to open a vein. So then why the sting in her chest?

When she noticed Cortez still watching her, she relaxed her clenched hands and forced a blank expression. He scrutinized her a moment longer, making her self-conscious. Then he turned to Mace.
“Since when are you with the VEA?”

Mason’s breath was clipped and his expression was pained as he replied, “Joined them soon after Brayden went missing.”

Cortez went dangerously still. “I thought his case had been closed, presumed dead.”

“It was, until a steady supply of his blood started showing up on the black market.”

Expression darkening, Cortez said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had nothing
concrete, and it would have just pissed you off.”

“He’s my brother!”

“Exactly!” Mason’s outburst cost him. He clutched his chest and heaved for breath.

Cora didn’t realize she had moved to his side till she was already there, swiping a tendril of sweat-dampened hair from his face.

He seemed both surprised and eased by the action. “Are you alright, Coraline?”

“Of course.
You’re the one with the problem.” She forced a smile.

“I’ll say,” a feminine voice shot from behind.

Cora turned to see a scantily dressed female, her dark hair done up in high pig-tails. Compared to the black one-piece outfit that showed more skin than it covered, Cora was dressed damn-near modestly. The woman was probably no older than Cora, but her eyes held the mien of experience beyond her years.

“Rita,” Cortez greeted and gestured to Mason. “I’ll need you to feed my friend here.”

As if it were nothing, Rita crawled onto the mattress and situated herself next to Mace. Cora had the strangest instinct to pull the woman away from him by the hair.

“
Coraline,” Cortez called, waving for her to join him by the door. “We have a well-stocked kitchen. Come. You look as though you could use a glass of wine.”

She felt the color drain from her face.

“Or if you don’t like wine, perhaps a bit of ale. Whatever you like.”

She
glanced at Mace, unsure if she should leave him, but something told her she wouldn’t be able to stand watching him feed from Rita.

“Go with him, Cora,” Mace urged. She imagined he didn’t want her witness to his feeding either. Goddess, she hoped that was all they were going to do.

The stray thought alarmed her as she followed Cortez into the hallway. Why should she care? A moment later, she determined she didn’t.

The kitchen was stocked with a wide variety of food, which told her Cortez often entertained humans…or had them over for dinner. She snorted out a small laugh. When Cortez gave her
a what’s-so-funny expression, she shook her head. Her overtired brain must be making her dippy.

An object in her hand buzzed, causing her to jump. She realized only now that she hadn’t once put Mason’s phone down. It had been in her anxiously tight grip this entire time. The name on the caller ID read Trent.

She thumbed the phone on. “Hello?”

“Who’s this?” Trent demanded.

“Uh, it’s Coraline Gordon.”

“
Coraline? Where’s Mace.”

“He’s okay. He’s recovering. We were attacked on the mountain and…”

“Attacked? By who?”

“
I’m not sure, but I think they were sent to kill me and Mace. They shot him with acid rounds, but he managed to kill them.”

Trent let out a low curse. “Where are you now?”

“We’re, um…” Something made her pause. A sense that she shouldn’t reveal their location without speaking to Mason first. “I don’t know. When Mace gets better, I’ll have him call you.”

“How badly is Mason hurt?” he replied slowly. Perhaps he’d registered the uneasiness in her tone. “If you’re in danger, I can have someone pick you up.”

“I…I think Mace will recover quickly. When I see him next, I’ll—”

“You’re not with him now?” Trent interrupted, alarmed. “
Coraline, if you’re in trouble, tell me now. Is there someone there with you?”

She glanced at Cortez, unsure if she was safer here than she would be anywhere else. Cortez raised a brow at her.

“I believe we’re safe for now,” she told Trent. Not a full lie; not the wholehearted truth either. “I need to go, though. I’ll have Mace call you later.”

She hung up before he could object.

“Trent sounded more harried than normal,” Cortez said with a smirk.

She blinked up at him. Vampires were known to have superb hearing, but she never expected they could listen to the other end of a phone conversation.

She tried to act aloof. “Do you know him?”

“He and I are…acquainted.” A snide smile played along his lips. “Tell me what you know of my brother.”

She shook her head, disarmed by the sudden subject change. “I don’t know anything. I’m sort of unintentionally involved in all this.”

“How do you mean?”

The last thing she wanted to do was confess to this intimidating vampire that she had apparently ingested his brother’s blood. Once again, she pictured that solitary grain of sand, circling.

“Didn’t you say something about ale? I could really use a drink.”

Cortez studied her for a moment. “We brew our own here.” He crossed to the fridge and retrieved a dark bottle, popped the top, and handed it to her, waiting expectantly.

She took a swig and then offered her compliments, hardly having tasted it. Cortez smiled and waited patiently, his question still hanging between them.

“Seriously, I don’t know anything. I’ve never met your brother. I never even knew there was an underground market for vampire blood until a couple days ago. I was married to someone who might have been involved. A man named Winston. He was murdered, and now I’m under Mason’s protection.”

He narrowed his eyes. “There’d be no need for protection unless you know something more than that.”

She shrugged. “People keep trying to kill me. That’s the extent of my knowledge.”

“Even still.
Unless there’s more you’re not telling me, there’d be no reason for the VEA to protect you. That’s not really their forte.”

She considered that for a moment. He was right. Why would the VEA bother keeping her safe…from
anything
? Especially when one of their own was in the crossfire? Mace had said she was a witness, but witness to what? She’d been completely ignorant of Winston’s testing his
product
on her. She hadn’t known he was involved in nefarious activities. She didn’t know who killed him, or exactly why. True, she’d witnessed his murder, as well as the woman he was with, but Mace and Trent had seen it for themselves. Plus they had surveillance of it. They didn’t require her testimony.

So then what did they want from her? 

Cortez seemed to be reading the progression of her thoughts just by her features, while his own betrayed nothing. Something in her expression made him back off. “Feel free to eat whatever you like. Someone will be by shortly to show you to a room.”

“Aren’t I staying with Mason?” she blurted before she could think better of it.

“If you prefer.”             

After a thoughtful hesitation, she nodded. She was feeling dangerously exposed being away from him after only this short period.

“That is, unless Mace wants to have the room to himself.” She recalled the beautiful woman brought in to feed him. A faint—almost unnoticeable, really—twinge of chagrin pinched the forefront of her brain.

“Very well.
I’ll check with him.” He moved to the door. “I hope I don’t need to warn you not to wander the club on your own.”

“I think you just did.”

The corners of his lips quirked. “Indeed. Have a pleasant evening, then.” He inclined his head and then left her alone.

She waited in nervous silence for a moment before she decided it was safe to raid the refrigerator, which, surprisingly, was filled with the most normal, as well as boring, food one could imagine. Bagged, precut lettuce, an array of unusual vegetables she couldn’t even begin to name.
Gourds, maybe? Some kind of melon? There was tofu…ugh…kale, a pink liquid that looked like fresh squeezed juice, and a package of uncooked chicken.

Although vampires could eat some food
—their main form of sustenance came from blood—it was clear by the contents in the fridge they had no taste buds at all.

On the counter beside the fridge was a stack of green and red apples, among other fruits. She grabbed a green apple, washed it in the sink, and then sank her teeth in. It was perfectly ripe and juicy. She took another bite.

Then, out of curiosity, she checked the freezer.

Jackpot.
Ice cream! Or, rather, sorbet. Chocolate Caramel, Strawberries and Cream, and an interesting one called French Mango Sunset.

She hunted through the dark stained cabinets for a bowl and spoon, intending to snag a hefty scoop of each.