Death's Servant (The V V Inn, First Prequel Book) (4 page)

Pain radiates through my skull as my surroundings slowly come into focus. I’m lying on a cold, gritty floor. Weakness drags at my limbs, making it hard to raise my head. What the hell happened?

In a flash, the memory of intense pain and fear spiral through me, drawing a hard shudder in response.

A rustle nearby draws my attention to a blurry figure a few feet away. “Thank God,” Raine’s concerned voice reaches me. “You’re finally awake.” She sounds strained and nervous. Considering she’s living with a group of blood sucking parasites—ones that will apparently jump on anything on their property and suck it almost dry—I can sympathize.

A cup is pressed to my lips, while a gentle hand slips behind my head to support me. “Here. Drink this.”

Warm water flavored with something lemony trickles past my cracked lips. “If we get fluids in you it should speed up your healing.” Despair clouds her pretty gaze. “Why? Why did you follow me, you stupid bastard?”

I sputter, but continue to drink. She takes the empty mug away and refills it from a nearby pitcher. I struggle to a seated position, finding my actions slowed by chains binding my limbs loosely to the wall behind me.

My vision clears as I glance around the room. Dim light from the naked overhead bulb does nothing to enhance the starkly empty space. Or should I call it a
cell
? The cinderblock walls and steel door emphasize my assumption.

What the fuck is going on here?

My coordination slowly returns and I reach for the full mug she’s offering. I gulp half the contents before bothering to respond her question. “You really think my following you is the biggest issue to discuss, right now? What is this place?”

Raine settles on the floor next to me, resting the carafe on one splayed thigh. “I used to call it Hell.” She smirks and meets my eye. “But after meeting you, and dreaming about freedom, I realize this place is worse.”

I drain the cup and reach for the pitcher. “Worse than Hell?” I pour the tangy water, eager for more as my strength returns. “Sitting chained to a wall after being drained by two vampires... well, it’s not Hell but it’s not great, either.”

Tears trickle down the young woman’s face. “What would you call it after five years? What would you call it when you watch your friends die? What would you call it when you’re forced to lure more of your kind here?”

“That depends. What exactly is ‘here’?”

Raine looks toward the partially open door, her gaze distant and sad. “It’s a pretty prison. Not this room, obviously, but the big house. A prison decorated with lavish parties and forced entertaining.”

I drink my lemon water, which is strangely making me feel a lot better than one would expect, and watch a shiver run over her. “This blood brothel is run by Cecil Davies. He’s a vampire addicted to Were blood.”

“Addicted to Were blood? A blood brothel? I didn’t know the first was possible or the second even existed.”

She looks at me and shakes her head in remorse. “Apparently the addiction is more common than I would’ve have guessed. Cecil has my whole pack bound to him as vampire servants. We can’t refuse his commands-—even ones that go against every fiber of our being.”

Her overly flirtatious behavior when I first pulled into town makes more sense. She was
ordered
to bring more werewolves to feed this vampire’s addiction. Maybe ordered to flirt with me as well.

“I don’t understand. How many of you are here? How much blood can one vampire drink?”

“I don’t know how much they can drink at once, but several feedings too close together have killed a quite a few of us. Our pack was small to begin with, only twenty. Half of them died in the last eighteen months.” She trails off and hangs her head, staring at the floor. “But I’ve brought in nine more over the years—three of which also died. And I’m not the only wolf bringing in victims.”

A chill creeps down my spine. She meant to lead me here, just like the others. But she also warned me, telling me to leave town. Something doesn’t add up. How did she resist her orders to bring me in?

“How did you lie to him about me?”

“I’m not sure. There is the obvious compulsion to obey burned into my brain, but apparently I could lie just enough regarding you to make him believe me.” She looks at me with longing. “I wondered if it might mean we were destined to be… more to each other… if the situation was different.”

My mind whirls, desperate to figure out a plan to save these wolves and myself. What is Cecil’s security like? I recall two who attacked me as a third stood close by, feeding on Raine. “How many vampires live here?”

“Just him. The others come and pay to feast on werewolf blood... among other things. They use us like rag dolls, knowing we can heal from any damage they dole out.”

Sickness coils in my stomach at the thought of all these people held against their will and made to service any vampire with enough money.

“How did all this happen? Where is your alpha? What happened to him and his mate?”

A sad look crosses her face as she fills my mug once more. “He was the third one taken. After that we all dropped like flies, bound to his call as our leader.”

“Third? That means he knew what was going on...and...” The bastard lead them into this Hell.

“Yes. He knew. He had no choice.”

“Really, no choice?” I haven’t even met the guy and I’m not sure I like him.

“He told me later that he’d hoped we’d ban together and overpower the vampire... Somehow find a way out.”

Disgust crosses my face at the situation she’s describing. How could’ve it gotten so bad, so fast?

As if sensing my unease in the facts laid out, she continues. “First, the creature took his eight year old daughter.” Her words drive a spike through my heart. “When his wife tried to find her, against her mate’s orders, she was abducted as well.” A heavy sigh escapes her and she sags against the cold wall, exhaustion and defeat etched into her skin. “By then it was too late for little Pamela. She’d lost too much blood to Cecil’s addiction and couldn’t bounce back.” She motions to the pitcher, with the strange lime-lemon tasting water. “We found out about the blood replenishing additives later.”

Power floods my limbs at her mention of the drink. I gesture with my cup. “What’s in it?”

“I don’t know for sure. We grow the plants out back at the vampire’s direction. But he won’t let us give them to Cliff and Kristin, our alphas.” Sadness crosses her face. “My sister, Jennifer, was killed when she tried to sneak the herbs to them. Cecil keeps them chained and weak for a reason. I think together they would eventually overpower him. Their draining is very specific; they aren’t
used
at the main house, but depleted here in the cells. He makes sure they remain on the cusp of death.”

The return of my strength encourages me to test the chains binding me to the wall. A slight tug loosens their hold in the stone, confirming my suspicions. The water is working on me the same way it would work for Cliff and Kristin. In ten minutes I’m back to normal, like my blood loss never happened.

Raine reaches out a hand and touches my forehead. “Your gash, from the fight—it’s gone already.” Confusion mars her features. “It would normally take hours after that much blood loss to heal perfectly, even with the herbal-infused water.” She gasps and hope lights her eyes. “Oh my God. Are you an alpha? That’s the only thing that would explain it.”

I nod, staring deep into her eyes. “Yes, I am.” I wrap the chains around my fists. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“What?”

I rip the chains from the walls and stand. “I’m going to get us the hell out of here and find a way to save everyone.”

Raine’s hand flies to her throat, her mind whirring behind her startled eyes. “You’ve got to get out quick. Before he checks on you.” She scuttles toward the door, gesturing me to follow. “I’ll show you through a back door they can’t see from the house.” She checks the watch on her wrist. “You’ve got very little leeway until he’ll come to test your recovery time. If he suspected you were an alpha he never would have ordered the enhanced water.”

“You’re coming with me, right?” We glance up and down the hall and then scurry along the deserted passageway to a dimly lit staircase leading up.

“No, I can’t,” she whispers. “If he suspects I’ve helped you he’ll kill one of my packmates in retaliation.” We make our way to the top and down another dark hallway leading to a back door. “Each of us knows the penalty for running when we’re let out to work and attract other Weres to his net.” She faces me at the threshold, rising up to kiss me lightly on the mouth. “I’m so sorry I got you into this. You’re our only hope. Get out and find help. Even the local police if you have to—anyone!”

A grim expression settles on my face. “I won’t let you down. No matter what.”

A sound from the front of the building draws Raine around. “You don’t have much time. He will follow your scent trail. He’ll come after you even outside the property. I’ve seen him do it to non-pack wolves before.” She grabs me and kisses me, desperation seeping from her pores like cheap cologne. “Be careful.”

Without another word, she slinks down the passage while I creep silently out the backdoor. The light from the moon reveals I’m near the rear of the property, the outline of the mansion looming way too close for comfort. I angle deep into the woods, hoping to come out near my jeep parked along the main road.

My beating heart thunders in my ears as I slip between the tree trunks, trying my best to make as little noise as possible. The urge to run as a wolf burns under my skin, tempting me to succumb to the raw fear pulsing through my veins to let the animal side take control of my safety. A shout sounds far behind me and it takes every ounce of restraint I possess to maintain human shape. I can’t waste time changing back to a human and I can’t drive in furry form.

Increasing my pace, I emerge from the dense growth, unsure if I’m being pursued or if my overactive imagination fears the worst.

Unwilling to waste any time finding out, I hightail it to my jeep. I’m seized by a momentary blinding panic when I realize my wallet, keys, and cell phone are missing from my pockets. What the hell was I thinking? That they wouldn’t search me and take my stuff? Sure, let’s kidnap someone and give them access to their car keys and cell phone, just to make things interesting.

Fucking idiot!

Relief surges through me as I recall the backup set. I lost my keys on a job site and had the foresight to stash a second set in the spare tire hanging on the back.

I dig them out and scramble into the jeep, turning the engine over—the noise shockingly loud in the quiet night. I pull away from the side of the road, returning the way I came, when a figure steps out from the trees directly into the jeep’s path.

I fumble in the darkness and turn on the headlights, flooding the night with the harsh blue-white of the halogen bulbs. The angry face of Cecil, fangs extended, fury etched in every feature, leaps into clarity, pulling a startled shriek from me.

Instead of swerving, I punch the gas, heading straight for the son of a bitch. Hatred burns in his maddened gaze as he jumps to the side, just missing my front left fender. I floor it, getting the heck out as fast as I can, my pulse drumming loudly through my ears.

Glancing constantly in the rearview mirror, I sigh in relief when I reach Route 7.

Holy shit. What have I gotten myself into?

It’s only when I cross the city limits into Leesburg does it hit me: that bloodsucker has my wallet and knows where I live.

I stop at my new apartment, throwing every piece of clothing and anything lying around into bags— including a handful of cash, my bills, and my passport—eager to get back on the road. How much time do I have? Where can I go? Leesburg is close to the West Virginia border. Maybe I’ll find a pack there willing to help.

Once again, having no way to connect with fellow werewolves through an organized system leaves me at a disadvantage.

You’re going to beat that dead horse over and over, aren’t you? You could call Romeo and ask for help, you arrogant bastard.

Good point. And I will call him. When it’s broad daylight, where there’s no fear of some bloodsucking nightmare grabbing me in the dark,
and
after I buy a new phone. This is one of those few times in my life I see the need for a paper address book.

Yeah, if you could find a working payphone.

Some days, technology sucks.

I drive through what remains of the night, adrenaline and fear pushing me hard. I stop in Charlestown, West Virginia near the Maryland border and check into a cheap roadside motel using the scrunched cash I found in my glove compartment and on the dresser in my apartment. I race into the rented room and immediately check all points of entry and exit—two windows near the door are the only way out. No windows line the back. Man, from now on I’m planning better. One lost wallet and cell phone and I’m up shit’s creek.

Yeah, well how often do people get into situations involving a werewolf blood addicted vampire?

God, I have no idea. I hope never again. Once in a lifetime is enough for me. Cold reality hits me like a ton of bricks—I need to figure out a way to help those people. What the hell am I going to do?

How do vampires track prey? Is it scent? Do I need to worry when I’m in a car? Could that son of a bitch track my electronic accounts and know when I access money at my bank?

Paranoia reigns king for about ten minutes, reducing me from a calm collected alpha to a scared young man who hasn’t had much responsibility yet in life. I pace the thin, worn carpet of the small space and try to calm my racing heart.

I’ve got a folder containing bill statements from my apartment. So, I’ll be able to call banks and such using the phone on the nightstand in the morning, requesting all new numbers and cards. That should slow down any cyber tracking, right? Suddenly, I wish I’d paid more attention to those cop shows Lori liked. I’m floundering, unsure what to do or where to turn.

There’s nothing more to be done tonight. I take a shower, scrubbing the last trace of vampire stench from my skin, and slip on fresh clothes—planning to lie down fully clothed, just in case.

When the remaining fear and nervousness fueling me for the last few hours fades to nothing, sheer exhaustion envelops me. I open the drapes, allowing rays from the rising sun into the room to chase away the shadows. I settle on the bed, facing the light, letting its warmth grant me solace as I drift off to sleep.

I jolt awake at noon when the phone rings.

“You missed check out time, sir. It was at eleven.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I checked in less than six hours ago.”

“Oh, terribly sorry, sir. I’m the day shift. I had no idea when you arrived.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not leaving yet. I’ll pay for a late check-out if I have to.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hang up the phone and stretch, grateful for the wakeup call even if it wasn’t intended as one. I grab my bill folder and start making calls to have new cards issued. Too tense and afraid to remain in one spot for long, I pick a Maryland hotel from the phone book to have the new cards overnighted to.

Next, I need cash. My stomach growls at the reminder I used the last of my money to pay for this place. I climb into my jeep and drive to the local branch address for my bank. Losing every scrap of plastic to identify me is a pain in the ass, but thanks to my passport and bank statements I’m able to prove who I am, getting a much needed cash advance—which will hopefully make me harder to track.

I leave feeling a wash of relief cascade over me. The bank will overnight a new debit card to my next hotel. The wad of cash in my pocket feels reassuring, but I’m still in a tight spot.

Yes, and let’s add in the fact you just withdrew money from
your
account, idiot.

Dammit! Will this guy really come after me?

Oh, gee, let’s see... you discovered his illegal blood brothel were he sells captive werewolves to any vampire willing to pay. I’d say you’re pretty screwed.

A grunt of frustration leaves me as I try to block the annoying voice in my head. What if I went to the local police? A recounting of yesterday’s events isn’t something any sane cop would believe. They’d probably lock me up as crazy, to boot.

Could I spin the story differently—like human trafficking—and get someone to listen? Only one way to find out.

I need a phone. A sign for a mall comes into view and I head there, hoping to find a wireless store for my carrier. Could Cecil track my calls on a new phone? Relaying my fears for identity theft to the sales rep at the store, he convinces me to just get a whole new number.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I get a new phone and a new number. Alone in my jeep once more, I do a search on my new smartphone for the nearest state park. If there are Weres in the area, I might get a whiff of their trail in a large expanse of woods. It’s a long shot but I’ve got to try.

Nagging unease slides down my spine as I drive the highway toward Little Bennett Regional Park. I reach for my phone once more, determined to at least
attempt
contacting my old pack for help. I call Elsa, reasoning my chances of getting information out of her are greater than if I go through Romeo. She answers on the third ring.

“Who is this and how did you get my cell number?”

“Elsa, it’s me, Jon.”

“Jon? Where are you? I’ve been worried sick.”

Yeah, so worried she didn’t try calling me during the last month. “I returned to Virginia, but not my home town. A place much farther north. I’ve got a job and a place to live.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a smart place for you to be, but you’re on your own now. You left quite a mess here to contend with.”

I wince at her unspoken implications. “I’m not going to apologize for what I did to Kotsana.”

A snort sounds at the end of the line. “No, I guess I wasn’t expecting you to.” She sighs. “What do you need, Jon? I have a feeling you’d only call if there was a reason.”

The exit for the park appears and I take the next turn. “I ran into a really bad situation with the local pack.”

She chuckles. “They don’t want a young hotheaded alpha joining their ranks? Big surprise.”

I squelch the desire to defend myself. I never knew she thought of me that way. “No. I discovered the pack is being held hostage by a vampire with a Were blood addiction. He sells their bodies and blood to visiting vampires.”

“That’s horrible! Their alphas should have had no trouble containing the vampire. Two alphas against one vamp are usually enough.”

“Not when they hold your daughter hostage and then drain you to near death before killing her.”

“Oh God, that poor girl.” She’s silent for a moment and I wonder if Romeo is listening to both sides of the conversation. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do.”

Anger boils inside me at her quick self-interested response. “Cannot or will not?”

“Excuse me?”

“You and the pack could help, but you won’t. Isn’t that more accurate?”

Her voice sounds sad, almost resigned. “I may not be happy with the individual nature of each pack and their masters, but it’s how we live. Survival of the fittest, just like in the wild.”

I take one last turn, directly into the public area and maneuver to a vacant lot. “We aren’t wild animals. No matter what we gain from our wolf halves we are still human. Geez, Elsa, even humans look out for each other.”

“It’s not our fight. You can’t expect us to risk our safety for them. We have our own people to protect.”

“Whatever. Thanks for nothing.” I disconnect the call, disheartened it ended so badly. After stopping in the spot closest to the woods, I get out and take a deep breath, letting the feel of the forest seep into my bones.

The smells of old and new growth wraps around me. Rotting leaves, standing water, honeysuckle blossoms, and dark earth vie for prominence in the air. Slowly a calm energy eases into my veins. My inner beast stretches and pushes at my surface thoughts, eager to run. It’s only mid-afternoon. I should be able to run for a few hours without worry of vampires coming after me. I didn’t smell any humans on the mansion’s grounds, so hopefully it’s safe to assume Cecil doesn’t have a stable of human servants he could sic after me at a moment’s notice.

With a quick glance around, I strip and lock my clothes in the truck, then stash my keys in the spare tire. A light breeze moves the hair on my legs, offering a mild a respite to the choking humidity. I call my beast to the surface, a brief searing pain spilling over me as the transformation comes fast. I fall to the ground, my limbs altering as grey-tipped brown fur covers my skin. The subtle scents I noticed before now scream through my head. I take a moment to adjust, lifting my muzzle to the sky and savoring all the woods have to offer.

The scamper of a squirrel sounds to my right, urging me to give chase. I ignore the instinct and race off in the opposite direction, eager to search for a trace of my own kind. I’ve got to find help. Surely local werewolves would care what was happening over the state line? It makes sense that once he’s finished with this pack he’d be looking to replace them with whoever was close by.

After searching for hours, mental exhaustion creeps in. Only the setting sun spurs me back to the safety of my jeep. I didn’t come across one trace of werewolf in the vast forest. I must have raced the almost six square miles at least three times. There’s got to be a better way of finding another pack. Where would werewolves hang out socially in this portion of Maryland? Would they occasionally go to a local bar like we did in Manitoba?

I shake my head at my vain attempt in grasping straws. I’m screwed and I know it. Searching like this could take forever. If a smart animal doesn’t want to be found, chances are you won’t find it.

But what about an arrogant creature unafraid of being discovered by animals they deem below them in the pecking order? I recall hearing vampires are better organized than we are, and they have rules of conduct, too. What if I found one—would they help my cause or consider what Cecil was doing to be normal? I’d like to think if it were normal I would’ve heard about the barbaric practice of keeping a horde of Weres for a blood addiction.

Shrugging on my clothes, I slip into the cold truck and make my way out of the park.

Would searching for a vampire be any easier? There’s only one way to find out. From what I was told, vampires like cities. Lots of victims to choose from in a confined territory. That settles it. I’ll start right after I stay the night in the Maryland hotel and get my replacement cards tomorrow.

Looks like I’m headed to Washington DC to find me a bloodsucker.

The irony of such a statement regarding a town full of politicians is not lost on me.