Vampire's Hunger (5 page)

He shook his head. “The area’s quiet. For the moment. We must be in between waves.”

Waves of zombies. Hordes. Herds. Gaggles. She stared at their blacked-out windows. She’d heard the living dead referred to in all of those ways, first in graphic novels, never really dreaming one day they would be a reality.

Well, reality sucked.

*  *  *

Duncan caught Aodhán’s eye and jerked his head toward the bedrooms. His friend gave a slight nod and stood. “I think I’ll go have a lie down.” He gathered up his sword and walked down the hallway.

“It’s kinda early, isn’t it?” Kimber called out as the bedroom door closed behind him. “Of course, since I have no freaking idea what time it is, it could be after midnight for all I know,” she muttered. She looked at Duncan and narrowed her eyes. “You told him to leave the room, didn’t you?”

“You’ve been sitting right there. I didn’t tell him to do anything.”

“You did some kind of guy thing,” she said in a low, taut voice. She was strung tight. They all were. Death haunted every corner and, for her and Natalie especially, with food in short supply, the misty shroud lurked within these walls of safety.

He wasn’t going to play games with her, not now. “I needed to talk to you in private so, yes. I motioned for him to make himself scarce.” He paused, trying to find the right words to once again broach this particular topic.

“You plan to talk to me tonight? Or maybe some time next week?”

He shot her a frown. She sassed him at every turn. When they’d first met, it had irritated the hell out of him. Truth be told, it still did, but now he usually felt an undertone of humor bobbing below the irritation. But he wasn’t going to let her see that. She’d feel like she’d got one up on him. “I want you and Natalie to move in with me. You’ll be safer at my place than here in the middle of Zombie Central.”

Kimber’s eyes went wide. “You think we’ll be safer surrounded by vampires?” She gave a decidedly unfeminine sounding snort. “It’s not like you live in a house in a gated community, Duncan. You live in Maddalene’s enclave on the edge of downtown. In a bunch of old reclaimed rubber factory buildings. With lots of other vampires.” She must have added that last part because she thought he was slow and hadn’t gotten her point the first time she’d made it.

“I give you my word you wouldn’t be harmed.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. “Just how much longer do you think you can survive here? Each time we go out in search of supplies we have to go farther and farther afield. One of these times we might not be able to make it back.”

“Listen, I never asked you to be my protector. If you’re not happy with my living situation, there’s the door.” She stood and walked over to the wood burning stove. April in northeast Ohio meant it was still cold once night fell. Though he wasn’t sure she had moved to the stove in order to keep warm. Since she was clothed in sweatpants, hooded sweatshirt and thick socks, he had a feeling her real motivation was to put distance between them. With her back to him she said, “Make sure to leave your key.”

Duncan sat back and forced himself to stay where he was even though he was tempted to go over and try to shake some sense into her. Or kiss her senseless. Or both. Their one and only kiss had happened six months ago. Sometimes he thought she wanted him; sometimes he was sure of it, but most of the time he kept his distance because she clearly wasn’t ready to pursue a relationship with him. He was patient. He could wait. He’d gotten a taste of her mouth and wanted more. Much more. She was the only one who made him feel like a human again. Not a monster…and he’d done some monstrous things in the last eighty years. Even before he’d become a vampire he hadn’t been a good man. But in Kimber he saw a chance for redemption. So he’d wait as long as he needed to. In a low voice he said, “If I hadn’t decided to protect you and gotten Aodhán to help, just how long do you think you and Natalie would have lasted?”

She whirled to face him. The light of the lone candle on the coffee table threw her face into an interesting mix of lights and shadows, but with his excellent night vision he had no difficulty seeing the expression in her eyes. She was angry, frustrated, and scared. And she was taking it out on him. He was fine with that. He wanted to keep Kimber safe. Beyond that, he had a favor he wanted to ask of her, a big one. But he had to wait for the right time.

“I’m no slouch when it comes to self-defense,” she muttered. She pointed a slender finger at him. “I carried a dagger for my job, remember?”

“A dagger that you used to draw blood for your resurrection ritual, not for defense,” he pointed out. “Six months ago you wouldn’t have made it past the first horde.”

Her lips tightened. She didn’t say anything for a few moments. “You might be right,” she responded quietly. She blinked. “I don’t think I’ve done anything except give you a hard time about it.” She sighed and dropped back into the recliner.

He hated to see that some of the fight seemed to have left her. He’d much rather have her feisty than defeated.

“I should have said this a long time ago—thank you.” She crossed her arms. “Having said that, I’m not leaving Zombie Central to move into Vampire City. At least with zombies I can run to get away from them.”

“Not if you’re surrounded,” he muttered. “Kimber, I don’t think you—”

“Just stop, please. It’s not only that your commune buddies would like to sink their fangs into me. It’s also that there are so many of them.” She gestured toward the back of the apartment. “I lived alone, before the Outbreak. Now I have at least two, sometimes three people around me all the time. I can’t go anywhere to get some alone time and still feel relatively safe, except for the bathroom, and it’s freezing in there right now, so spending more time in the bathroom than necessary really isn’t an option.” She picked at the arm of the chair. “It’s making me crazy. Moving in with you would exacerbate that tenfold.”

Duncan could understand her desire for solitude. He preferred being alone most of the time, and his quarters allowed that. “The difference is that I have three bedrooms, a den, a private walled-in patio, and twenty-four-seven security that patrols the grounds to make sure no zombies get into the compound.” He saw a slight wavering in her eyes and pressed his advantage. “You could have your own bed. Your own room.” Never mind that he’d prefer she share his bed. For now he wanted to get her where she’d be safe. At least, saf
er
.

None of the vampires at the enclave would dare cross him, not if they wanted to continue to exist. As Maddalene’s second in command, he had nearly as much authority as she did. In many matters he did have as much authority as she. No one doubted he was the alpha dog. A few had challenged him over the years, but he’d put them down.

He leaned forward. “What you need to remember is this: you’re important to Maddalene. The last thing she wants is for you to come to harm. Anyone who touches you wouldn’t live past dawn.”

She pursed her lips. “That’s great, Duncan. But I’d be dead, too, wouldn’t I? So it’s hardly a comfort to know that my killer would pay with his life. I’d rather know that some sort of preventive measures are in place.” She stared at him. “Are there any?”

He scowled. “Short of wrapping you up in chain mail…no. There aren’t.” While he recognized that she had a point, it was galling that she wouldn’t trust him to take care of her. Galling and…hurtful. That surprised him. He didn’t want to look at the emotion too closely, so he pushed it to the side.

“Then I’m not moving in with you.”

He heard the bathroom door open, and Natalie walked down the hallway, dressed in a floor-length flannel robe, rubbing a towel on her hair. “Just so you know,” she said with a glance at Kimber, “there’s no more hot water. Hey, Duncan,” she added, looking at him. “How are you?”

She at least seemed happy to see him.

“I’m fine, thanks.” He motioned toward Kimber. “Just trying to get your roommate here to see reason.” He wasn’t above using her friend against her if it advanced his position.

“Still trying to get us to move into the viper pit, huh?” Natalie stood with her back to the stove.

“Yes, he is,” Kimber said. “And I’ve already told him no thanks.”

“Hmm. Well, for what it’s worth, I agree with you. Sorry, Duncan.” She walked past the dining room, tossing the damp towel on the back of one of the chairs on her way to the small kitchen. “I’m going to start on dinner, such as it is.” She paused and looked at Kimber. “I’m going to need to light a couple more candles so I can see what the hell I’m doing, all right?”

“Sure. You want some help?”

“No, I’m good.”

Kimber watched Natalie putter around in the kitchen for a few seconds before she turned her attention back to Duncan. She pulled her feet up and sat cross-legged, hunching over with her elbows on her knees. Looking at Duncan, she muttered, “Anyway, going back to what we were talking about, I don’t get why you care so much.”

It was a question she’d asked him several times over the last six months. He’d dodged it each time. How could he tell her that he needed her to make contact with the Unseen? That he was desperate for a spiritual connection of some kind, any kind, so he could feel alive again? Feel human again. For her, or anyone else for that matter, to know that about him would paint him as weak. And he couldn’t have that.

It was better for him that everyone assumed he had the hots for Kimber. And that conclusion wasn’t too far from the truth. It just wasn’t all of the truth.

The truth was, she was his second chance at life. To be a better man. And he was going to take that chance.

Chapter Three

I
’ve told you. You’re important to Maddalene.” Duncan stretched his legs out in front of him.

Kimber studied him. “And she’s important to you,” she finally murmured.

“She is.” He slouched down until he could rest his head against the back of the sofa and still be able to see her. “She saved my life. A couple of times.”

“You’ve never told me this.” She leaned forward and draped her hands over her ankles. “What happened?”

He clasped his hands across his belly and thought back over his past. He wouldn’t tell her the whole story, because there was too much of it that was unsavory. He hadn’t been a very good man when he’d been human, and the first few decades of his life as a vampire hadn’t done anything to improve his character. He wasn’t going to share what he was ashamed of. That shit needed to stay buried in his memories.

“I’m originally from Chicago; did you know that?” At the shake of her head, he went on. “I grew up on the north side, in a predominantly Irish neighborhood. The area had the highest crime rate in the city. Not joining a gang wasn’t an option for boys, especially if you were Irish.” He paused to gather his thoughts.

“So you were part of a gang?”

Duncan gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Part of the mob, actually. One of my best friends was Dean O’Banion. We started out as sluggers for the
Tribune
, then later the
Examiner
.”

“I’m sorry, sluggers?”

“Hired thugs who beat up newspaper vendors who didn’t sell our newspaper.” It wasn’t something he was proud of, but it had happened. By way of explanation he said, “Chicago before 1910 was rough, and it only got worse with Prohibition.”

“I see.” Kimber’s tone was noncommittal, giving away nothing of what she felt. “Go on, please.”

“Our little group of thugs became known as the North Side Mob, and as Prohibition continued, we were direct rivals of The Outfit, Al Capone’s gang.”

Her eyes widened. “You were part of all that?” She blew out a quiet whistle from between pursed lips. “I had no idea. Is that when you met Maddalene?” A wide grin broke out on her face. “She was a gangster’s moll, wasn’t she?” She gave a quick nod and tapped a finger against her chin. “I bet she was a gangster’s moll. She probably went by the moniker Maddy the Moll. Or Long Maddy. Or Mad Maddy. Any of those would’ve worked, though I think maybe Mad Maddy is the best one. It’s the truest descriptor.”

“She wasn’t a gangster’s moll.” He shook his head at her silliness. “Do you want to hear my story, or would you rather keep ragging on Maddalene?”

“I can do both,” she responded with a smirk. “I’m an excellent multi-tasker.”

Duncan scrubbed a hand over his chin.

“Okay, okay, I recognize that sign. Go ahead with your story. I’ll try to behave.”

He sincerely doubted that was possible. “Capone had Dean murdered in 1924. A few years later Bugs Moran became the leader.” He paused and stared at his hands. He’d never particularly liked Moran. O’Banion had been tough, even cruel, but in those days that was what was needed. Weiss had been just as tough. Moran, on the other hand, had been cruel not out of necessity but out of desire. He’d thrived on the misery he could bring to others, especially Capone.

“I won’t lie,” he went on in a low voice. “They were horrible years, full of violence and infighting within the North Side Mob, and the killings of gang members on both sides.” Unfortunately there had been a never-ending supply of local recruits—young men looking for fortune or fame or power. If that fateful day in February hadn’t happened, if public sentiment hadn’t turned against Capone, things in Chicago would probably have gotten a hell of a lot bloodier.