Oliver's Hunger (Scanguards Vampires #7) (19 page)

She felt fear clamp down on her, tightening her throat and preventing her from speaking. She could only stare at him.

“I’m sorry, Ursula. I’m very hungry. But I won’t attack you. I promise.” He swallowed hard and when he opened his mouth again, she saw his fangs protruding.

A breath escaped her chest.

“We’re almost home. I’ll let you out at the curb. You’ll have to go inside. Blake will be there. He’ll protect you. Promise me you’ll go right to him. Tell him however much or little you need to, but don’t leave his side.”

Oliver’s voice sounded different now, strained as if he had trouble pronouncing the words.

She nodded automatically.

“I’ll wait until you’re inside. Please don’t run away. If you do, my instinct will kick in and I’ll chase you. And God help us then.”

“I promise,” she choked out. Anything so that he wouldn’t bite her.

For the next few blocks, she watched his every move. Her own palms were sweaty, and her heart beat double as fast as usual. She knew he could hear it and smell her sweat if the clenching of his jaw and his white knuckles were any indication.

It seemed to take ages until Oliver pulled to a stop in front of his house.

“Go!”

Without looking back, she opened the car door and jumped out, slamming it behind her. Forcing herself to walk normally, she made it up the few steps to the entrance door, then rang the door bell several times in quick succession. As she waited impatiently, she looked over her shoulder. Oliver was still sitting in the van, the engine running.

Her heart nearly stopped when the entrance door to the house was ripped open from the inside.

“Ursula?”

“Let me in! Shut the door!” she demanded and pushed past Blake into the house.

Only when she heard the door being closed and bolted behind her did she breathe a sigh of relief.

“What happened?” Blake took her arm and turned her to face him.

“Oliver is hungry.”

Fury spread in his face. “Fuck! Did he hurt you?” His eyes searched her neck. “Did he bite you?”

She quickly shook her head. “No.”

But for some inexplicable reason she suddenly wondered what it would be like to feel his fangs in her neck while he was making love to her. A thought came and went: her captors had denied her and the other women sex, because they believed it would weaken the potency of their blood. She couldn’t be sure of this being true, but she had told Oliver about it. Would he remember this detail? And if he did, would he try to bite her if he believed that the drug in her blood was less potent once she’d had sex? But most of all: would she let him?

How screwed up was she to even imagine this? Had she not suffered enough at the hands of her captors?

Tears brimmed in her eyes, and with her next breath, a sob tore from her chest.

22

After stilling his hunger for blood in an alley near Civic Center, Oliver got back into the van and headed for the address on the driver’s license he’d found in the wallet. It was located in North Beach. As he drove, his thoughts went back to Ursula and her frightened look when she’d realized that he was in dire need of blood.

If he were honest with himself, he would admit that they had no future. Even if Ursula would allow him to bite her—which she clearly wouldn’t—he could never risk it. Her blood was a drug, and he was a recovering addict. It wasn’t any different from an alcoholic who would instantly fall back into his addictive behavior if he drank the tiniest drop of alcohol. Her blood would do the same to him. Not only would it destroy his own life by sending him into a tailspin, it would also end hers: knowing how addictive her blood would prove for him, he would eventually take too much and drain her. She would die in his arms.

That thought made him want to pull over at the side of the road and throw up. He forced the bile back down. No, he wouldn’t be weak like that. He would resist—for her sake, and for his own. It left him with two choices: continue to feed off the less fortunate inhabitants of this city, or get used to bottled blood. Neither option sounded pleasing, when Ursula’s blood provided the ultimate temptation.

After making love to her in the back of his van, he couldn’t imagine anything better than to repeat it and this time sink his fangs into her lovely neck, making the connection even more intense than it had already been.

A fleeting thought tried to tempt him even further. Hadn’t Ursula said that the reason why she wasn’t allowed any sex was because her captors believed it would lessen the drugging effect of her blood? It seemed like a ludicrous suggestion, and he could only imagine that those vampires were sadists and took pleasure in seeing these women suffer, denying them any kind of pleasure for the hell of it. Following this idea that there could be a way of safely drinking Ursula’s blood only made the temptation worse. This was only his addict-self talking, reaching for any straw, however thin, that presented itself. He couldn’t allow himself to listen to it any longer—he had to shut it off or the “what-if” scenarios would drive him insane.

Oliver swallowed away the desire that coursed through him and concentrated on his next task.

Paul Corbin, the owner of the wallet Ursula had stolen, lived in a single family home in North Beach. The address pointed to him being wealthy, or at least well off, considering that single family homes in this sunny Italian neighborhood of San Francisco started at about two million dollars—for a fixer-upper.

Oliver parked the car in the driveway, blocking it, not just because there was never any available parking in the neighborhood, but also to prevent the man from escaping. Not that he had any suspicion that he would. After all, Oliver was only here to return the wallet and ask him what he knew about the blood brothel.

He got out of the car and locked it, then walked up to the entrance door of the impressive house. It appeared to have been fully renovated only a short while earlier. No expense had been spared, if he considered that the entrance steps were tiled with travertine and the entrance door was made of solid steel. He imagined the materials in the interior to be just as classy.

Oliver pressed the door bell and heard the pleasant chime from inside the house. A light came on over his head and he raised his eyes to it, noticing a camera that pointed at him. It appeared that Corbin preferred to know in advance who stood outside his door before he opened it.

Oliver let a casual smile play around his lips, wanting to appear non-threatening. He had no intention of scaring the other vampire off. He didn’t have to wait long until he heard steps approaching the door. Then a lock was flipped and the door opened.

The tall man was a vampire, and according to the picture Oliver had seen on his driver’s license, he was Paul Corbin himself. Somehow, he’d expected him to have a servant who would open the door for him. In a grand house like this, servants wouldn’t have been out of place.

“Yes?” Corbin asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Mr. Corbin, it appears you lost your wallet,” Oliver started, watching the man’s reaction. “I’m happy to say that I’ve found it.”

Surprised, he opened the door wider, allowing Oliver more of a glimpse inside. It was dark, but he could make out a hallway with doors to each side, then a large double door at the very end.

“You’re here to return my wallet? I had already written it off as a complete loss,” Corbin admitted.

Oliver smiled, pulling the wallet from his jacket pocket. He noticed an instant stiffening of the other vampire’s shoulders, until he handed him the item.

“How can I thank you, Mr. . . uh . . . ?” Corbin asked politely and at the same time very stiffly.

Oliver shifted onto the other foot. “Oliver Parker,” he lied. “Actually, I was wondering, whether I may ask you a couple of questions in relation to where I found the wallet.”

The man’s face remained impassive when he answered, “And where, Mr. Parker, did you find it?”

Oliver turned his head, looking around and noticed a man walking his dog. “I’d rather not talk about it out in the open.” He motioned to the person with the pet. “Our kind has to be careful.”

“Of course. How thoughtless of me. Please come in.”

As he walked into the house, Oliver wondered how old the other vampire was. He appeared very old fashioned and stiff.

Corbin opened the double doors at the end of the corridor and motioned him to enter. While he closed the doors behind them, Oliver swiftly assessed his surroundings. They were in a generously appointed living room with a Baby Grand Piano, a large seating arrangement, and floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of Coit Tower, one of San Francisco’s iconic landmarks.

“Not to rush you, but I have plans for tonight.”

Oliver turned to face his host and cleared his throat. “I’ll come straight to the point. I found your wallet in a building in Hunter’s Point.”

He paused, watching Corbin’s reaction. There was a minute flicker of something, but already the other vampire had himself under control again.

“It’s a place where some of our kind go to feed.” Oliver deliberately didn’t mention that the place was empty now, wanting to see how much the man knew.

“You’ve been there to feed?”

Oliver nodded. “It’s quite special.”

Corbin turned away, looking out the window. “So I guess you’ve discovered my dirty secret. It’s not something I’m proud of.”

Oliver waited patiently, not wanting to interrupt whatever the man wanted to confess.

“I went there once. An acquaintance told me about it. I thought it would provide some thrill, something to disrupt the monotony of my life.” He laughed to himself, then motioned his hand to the room behind him, indicating that money alone didn’t make him happy. “But, frankly, I didn’t enjoy it. I didn’t like the way it made me feel.”

Oliver tried to hold back the emotions that were battling inside him: this man had drunk Ursula’s blood. He’d had his fangs in her beautiful neck, her body underneath him. He clenched his jaw, trying not to let his fury show. “How did it make you feel?”

Corbin looked over his shoulder, meeting Oliver’s gaze. “You tell me.”

Remembering his days as an addict, he knew he could come up with a plausible answer. “Carefree, light.”

Corbin nodded. “But I knew I couldn’t go back. Already after the first time, I knew how addictive it was. I’ve never had blood like that. I had no idea it existed. But I couldn’t allow it to change me. You understand, don’t you?”

“So you only went once?”

“Yes. And I regret it. I guess it served me right that they stole my wallet there. It taught me a lesson.” He shrugged. “Nevertheless, thanks for returning it.”

He made a motion toward the door as if wanting to dismiss him, but Oliver wasn’t done with his questions yet.

“I wonder whether you’ve been notified that the operations have moved to another location.”

Corbin raised an eyebrow. “Moved? I hadn’t heard.”

“Yes, I’m afraid the building in Hunter’s Point has been vacated.”

“Maybe they closed the establishment. Good riddance.”

“I doubt that very much. It was a lucrative business.”

“Why do you care?”

Oliver gave Corbin a long look. He didn’t appear to be an addict, making his claim that he’d been there only once plausible. But still, he was a former client of the blood brothel, and as such he might have a way of contacting the vampires who operated it.

“I need to get hold of the people who operate the place. But I’m afraid they haven’t let me know where they moved the business to.” Oliver dropped his lids, hoping he could fool the man. “You see, I do like the way I feel when I feed there.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you. As I said, I was there only once.”

“If they contacted you, let’s say to let you know where they moved to, would you let me know?”

Corbin gave him a curious look. “If you’ve been to the place, and by the sounds of it more often than I have, why wouldn’t they contact you directly? Surely they wouldn’t want to lose a good client just because they moved?”

Oliver’s mind worked quickly to come up with an excuse. “See, my contact information changed just recently and I’m afraid I’d forgotten to let them know. They have no way of contacting me. That’s why I was so glad when I found your wallet and figured you might be able to help me.”

Corbin nodded slowly. “Of course. But, as I said, I doubt they’ll contact me.”

Oliver pulled out a card from his pocket and handed it to him. It only had his first name and phone number on it. Scanguards preferred it that way, not wanting to give away too much information.

Corbin took the card and looked at it. “Thank you. And, may I ask you for a favor in return?”

Oliver shot him a curious look. “Yes?”

“May I ask you to please not tell anybody about the fact that I went to a place where they keep women with drugged blood? I really don’t want to be judged by my peers. I’m new in town, and you know how it is when gossip makes the rounds.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Oliver left the house, satisfied that he’d been able to confirm Ursula’s claim. She had told him the truth, and that news made him feel a whole lot better. However, he wasn’t any closer to finding out where Ursula’s captors had taken the other girls.

23

Ursula eyed the two newcomers cautiously. They had arrived minutes earlier with big suitcases in tow and worried expressions on their faces. Blake had greeted them enthusiastically and introduced them as Rose and Quinn, his fourth great-grandparents.

Neither of the two looked any older than twenty-five. Rose was a classical beauty with long golden hair and a model figure to die for. Quinn wasn’t any less handsome. His blond hair looked windswept, and his hazel eyes were alert and beautiful.

“You must be Ursula,” he greeted her and offered his hand.

Not wanting to be impolite, considering she was staying in his house, she shook it. “Nice to meet you.” Whether her statement would prove to be true wasn’t decided yet.

When he released her hand, he addressed Blake, “Where is Oliver?”