Big Game (The V V Inn, Book 3) (19 page)

As I get dressed, my mind races. Who is he, and why does he care? I sit on the cot and tear into the food and water, all too aware another captor could take them away if they so desired. The nutrition will not only help my body heal, it will keep me strong when I make a break for it.

Whoever that guy is, maybe I won’t kill him when I get loose. Perhaps he doesn’t deserve to die like the others. Unless, of course, that is exactly what I’m supposed to think.

Asa

It’s mid-morning,
close to ten a.m. The wolves are awake, clustered once again down in the basement around the small conference table. A few of the Weres suggested meeting upstairs, but there’s too much exposed glass for my comfort—and not just because of the sunlight. We’d all make excellent targets for a sniper if we presented them such an easy opportunity.

The hurricane shutters installed throughout the resort are in the guest rooms primarily, not in all the major living areas. The metal was intended to protect guests from sun in their rooms, not make the hotel virtually unsusceptible to siege from an enemy.

Cy has proven to be an interesting addition to the mix. His slick, charismatic personality easily smoothed the raised hackles of the nervous werewolves. Reassuring them that he and I would be helpful during this difficult time. Although, all Romeo and Elsa had to hear was he was an offspring of Vivian and they settled right down.

The shocked conversation and angry accusations surrounding Spike’s revelation to be a woman were far more distracting to the group, and probably helped keep the focus off Cy more than anything else. The expressions flashing across Jon’s face the past couple of hours, especially when a few of the ex-cheerleader Weres started yelling, were classic. Apparently Candy had some fun with quite a few of the ladies in the pack, much to Jon, Eric, and Pat’s amusement.

Eric leans over and whispers to me while shouts of “Hell, no!” once again rip from the fiery Naomi. “I think the funniest thing is most of the ladies ‘Spike’ played around with turned Pat down flat. But damn, at least he was a real guy.”

I don’t think the situation is quite as funny as the two of them do. If anything, it should indicate how crappy he came across in his attempts—and maybe hit home the fact that his pick-up skills need some major work. I clear my throat and whisper back, “Or, you two could recognize that a woman knows how to come on to another woman better than you two nobs do.”

Candy looks my way and smiles. I freeze for a moment, unaware she was listening to our conversation. That’ll teach me not to try and say anything in a room full of dogs. I nod back and drop my eyes to the table, searching for a pen to give me something to do. I never spoke to her while in her ‘Spike’ form and haven’t much since she came out as a woman, either.

Her long reddish-brown hair spills past her shoulders in a sheet of silky, wavy fibers. She has a heart-shaped face with a dimple in her left cheek and the most interesting shade of light brown eyes I’ve ever seen. Her slim form is hidden by the big, baggie clothes she wore as a man, and I can’t get a read on if she has any curves or not. Based on the glare I just got from Jon, I’m guessing I should stop studying her outright.

It’s a fascinating ability she has to shift to any form desired. I’d love to ask her about it sometime. Jon reaches across the distance between their two hands on the table and squeezes hers reassuringly. My eyebrows creep up my forehead at his display. I wonder how this new development is going to fly when Vivian returns.

Cy leans against a wall in the corner behind Jon. Every now and then he looks like he’s about to burst out laughing. He quickly brings his coffee mug up to his face and hides behind it until he can smooth his face back out. Too bad our Aunt Cali wasn’t with him in Seattle. It would’ve been nice for her and Eric to hook up again after all these years. Then again, this dangerous situation isn’t exactly ideal for catching up.

Romeo has finally had enough of the bickering women and stands up. “Alight, if you’re all done bitching for the moment…”

Pat snickers and earns some nasty glares from the women.

The Alpha continues, “Maybe we can get down to business and form some search teams to go out and find the hunters.”

A few Weres raise their hands to indicate they’d like to volunteer. Jon frowns, “You all still have no idea which one of you could have led the hunters here.” He looks around the assembled faces, checking for signs of guilt. “No one let it slip where they were going?” He shakes his head and locks gazes with the alpha pair across the table.

“Why focus on this now, Jon?” Elsa asks. “What difference can it make on how they found us?”

Jon stands, matching Romeo and the tension in the room increases. “It might not be hugely important
right now
. But it may help when we catch them.” At the blank looks on the pack’s faces he continues. “Could it be a scorned lover?” He cuts his eyes to the wife of one of the Were’s who was shot. “Or a relative who went off the deep end when they discovered someone’s new affliction?”

His gaze goes back to the Alphas. “A neighboring pack who wants to seize control of your territory?” A negative reply leaps from Romeo’s lips before Jon can even get the rest of his sentence out. Jon raises a hand to cut off the older man’s further protestations. “Okay. How about another route—how many people do you all work with day in and day out who could have guessed your secret? Have you all been able to hide it as well as you think?”

Elsa looks around the room, taking in the expressions of uncertainty on the faces of their pack. “How can we possibly know the answer? And what good will come of knowing it? No matter what, we need to protect the pack first.”

“Look, I know we talked about a lot of this earlier—but it matters. I’m bringing it up again because those are real people out there,” Jon says in a quiet, controlled voice. “Before we all head out there to track them we need to keep the possibilities firmly in our mind. These might not be some cold-blooded killers, but a jealous lover, grieving family member…. Who knows?”

Nods from the assembled wolves leave me wanting to shake my head and scream. Jon can pretty it up all he wants, but the buggers loose on the resort took the first shot and have killed a woman. They aren’t here out of some misguided angst, they’re here to destroy. The sooner this group gets that through their furry heads the better off they’ll be.

I glance over at Cy in the corner, his whipcord lean body and wide chest not moving as he contemplates the agitated wolves around him. He meets my eye and nods. Perhaps he’s thinking the same thing I am. We’ll have to wait ‘til the wolves file out to converse.

Jon organizes small parties numbering three and the wolves head up into the daylight. They’re going outside as humans on the off chance the hunters might not shoot if they think the person could be entirely human. Smart ploy and for their sakes, I hope it works. Cy and I are stuck down here until dark, unable to do more than monitor the cameras in the command center.

After the boisterous group leaves the basement I reach for the carafe of bloodcoffee. “Want some more?” I ask my old master.

“Sure,” he answers while holding out his cup. He takes a seat two chairs from me and sips his drink.

The combined coffee and nutritional jolt helps my fatigue, but I’m running on fumes and will need to take a nap if I’m going to be any help to Jon later.

Cy takes a sip of his drink and stares at me. I feel his heavy gaze weighing on me as I shift in my chair, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. I’ve known him for two years and can’t help but wonder at the intensity he’s aiming toward me.

“I’m going to bed soon,” I say. “You’ll be in the room down the hall I showed you. Kotsana, the one whose wife was killed, has been moved upstairs for now, drugged and sleeping.”

Cy nods, his stare not flinching. “What can you tell me about Vivian?”

My brow furrows in confusion and I feel the beginnings of an ache behind my eyes. That’s odd. I’ve never had a headache since becoming a vampire. “What’s that now? You’re asking about Vivian?”

“Yes. What have you learned about your new master since coming here last fall?” I feel a push against my mind and recognize a force trying to work its way in. “We haven’t had the chance for a nice heart-to-heart over the phone—have we?”

Before I work out completely what I’m doing I draw my Smith and Wesson 500, loaded with silver, and aim it at Cy’s skull. “Dude—are you fucking with my head?”

Cy’s eye glitters with an edge for a moment and then the pressure inside my brain dissipates. “It was just a question, Asa.”

“Why are you asking me about Vivian?”

The older vampire settles back in his chair, acting like nothing just happened and I’m not holding a gun on him. “No reason. Relax.”

“Relax? Are you fucking kidding me? I felt you trying to get into my mind!”

“And how would you know what that feels like?” He leans forward, eagerness on his face. “Has it happened before? Has Vivian done it to you?”

Answering him might reveal more than I’d like. I know Vivian has been inside my head more than once—the last time being when I shot Joanna. I’ve worked my ass off to build mental barriers since then to ensure I’ll have some type of warning if she ever attempts it again. But her touch was much lighter, I’m sure of it. Actually, I wasn’t even aware she did it until she told me later. Hindsight made me think I recognized a light sensation, although I could have easily been wrong.

The fear that gripped me, knowing she could get in my brain anytime she wanted and play marbles with my mind, freaked me out for days. I realized then why manipulators were deemed too powerful to live. Hell, the forest illusion she cast in this conference room was a cheap magic trick compared to the violation of physically altering a man’s mind at will.

A cold shudder races down my back at the thought that perhaps Cy has a little of the same gift as Vivian. Maybe he doesn’t know what she truly is. Could he be trying to dig up information from me because he’s just as clueless as Paul is regarding his powers?

“Dude, you
ever
try to get in my brain again I’ll blow your head off.” I release the trigger-retracted hammer block and ease the weapon down to my side. “Are we clear?”

Cy’s cold, black gaze watches the gun with fascination. “Crystal clear.”

No longer comfortable with the man I thought I knew, I leave, taking the bloodcoffee with me. I venture to my underground bedroom and lock the door, well aware Cy could break it down and come in when I’m sleeping.

Should I call Aunt Cali? I’d need to venture upstairs near a window to get any reception. Would she be honest with me and tell me what Cy is capable of? Does she know? Why is he asking me questions about Vivian, and does it mean I can’t trust the slick bastard?

The pull of sleep rides me hard as the sun climbs in the sky. Making a snap decision, I gather an old sleeping bag and my satellite phone. Eric and Pat will be manning the command center while I sleep and all three of the seethe’s wolves have my number—not that I’ll know immediately if they do call, but having it with me gives me a small sense of reassurance.

I walk down the corridor and through a wood door, into the unfinished portion of the basement. After a few yards, I turn down the section under the north wing of the inn and keep going ‘til I reach the hidden submarine-like door that leads into one branch of the tunnels. Each of the three wings of the hotel has an escape door, and all have a coded lock on them—all with different numbers. Codes I didn’t give Cy when we came through one earlier today from the hangar.

The whoosh of the metal door closing behind me releases some of the tightness in my chest. I can’t believe that sonovabitch tried to get into my head. No way I can turn my back and drift off to a vulnerable sleep not knowing his motives.

I go into the first room, flicking on the caged bulb overhead as I enter. The dim dish-water light won’t bother me when I lay down to succumb to the call of rest, but I’ll sure feel a lot better knowing there’s a steel door protecting me.

Drew

I bolt up from r
estorative sleep, the concern I had when lying down to rest still front and center in my mind. Grabbing the phone next my bed, I confirm Rafe didn’t call when I was out for the count.

“Chelly?” I call into the softly lit room.

“Over here, hon.” She lounges in the balcony off our room, her voice carrying through the open door. In a moment she peeks her head in. “You’re up early today.”

I rub a hand roughly over my face. “I know. I’m worried something happened to Vivian and Rafe. Neither of them called you by chance, did they?”

Chelly comes fully into the room, her face reflective of the concern in my voice. “No, I’m sorry. They didn’t.” She settles on the bed next to me and runs a hand softly up and down my stiff back. “What does it mean that you haven’t heard from them?”

“It means we need to get the hell to Buenos Aires as fast as we can.”

Chelly’s breath catches in her throat. “You think it’s that serious?”

I turn to my girlfriend, the woman who drives me physically bonkers beyond all reason, and take her trembling hand into my own. “I do. I need you to be strong, not falling apart on me, okay?”

Her spine stiffens and her trembling stops. “You’re right, Drew. I’m not a wimp. What can I do to help?”

“Pack your clothes while I wake Paul. I’m not taking you to the Tribunal with us, but I’m sure as hell not leaving you here either.”

She nods and heads to the closet for our bags. I leave her to pack and proceed to Paul’s room for the difficult task of waking a slumbering vampire.

It took a good thirty
minutes until Paul was awake enough to move around the room and dress. I took a perverse pleasure in slapping him into consciousness. Reminded me of the days the lads and I used to overindulge in spirits back in London. The day after a long night was quite similar to trying to revive the undead, like I did with Paul. The young men who were less ragged and arose first, used to smack the rest of us into wakefulness with unabashed glee.

Ahh… what I wouldn’t give to be back in that carefree time instead of this current predicament. All we worried about then was the sum we gambled the night before when deep in our cups.

“Jesus, Drew.” Paul rotates his jaw with one hand. “Did you have to hit me so freakin’ hard?”

I suppress a grin, sure it will gain me no favor from the young fledgling. “When the polite taps didn’t work, I had to apply more force.”

“Uh, huh. Yeah. So you say.”

I place a hand on his shoulder and deliver a well-meaning shove in the direction of the closet. “Come on, pack your stuff. We need to get in the air as quick as possible.”

“We don’t have a seaplane here anymore, do we? Didn’t a pilot take it back after he dropped off our luggage?”

“Yes, you’re right. We’re going to take a boat back to Puerto Santa Cruz and rent a plane to fly to Buenos Aires.”

He yanks his bag off the top shelf and stomps back to the bed. Maybe I hit him a little harder than I should have. Oh well, he’ll get over it. “I called ahead to Vivian’s hangar and the rental is being prepared now.”

There’s a knock at the door and Tommy and Bob let themselves in. “Hey, are you two going somewhere and didn’t tell us?” Tommy asks. The dirty-blond hair of the fit Aussie falls over one eye, concern visible on his face.

Damn. I wasn’t counting on taking the entire entourage, but if Chelly is going with us I’m not sure leaving them behind is a good idea. “You’re coming, too,” I say, making a split decision. “Pack up and be ready in ten minutes.”

The two leave and I turn back to Paul. He’s fiddling with the contents of his bag, a look of consternation on his face like there’s a question weighing on him. “We’ve got bagged blood, Drew. Why would we need to bring them?”

A trickle of unease slides down my spine. “I don’t want to split us up. It might not be what Vivian would do, but I’m going on instinct here.”

In a surprise show of support, Paul claps me on the shoulder. “You’re doing fine. I trust you, man.” His face twists into a grimace. “As long as you’re not the bastard waking me up every day.”

A half smile forms on my face as I turn to leave, eager to check on Chelly and keep us moving. Out in the hall one of the twins is walking toward our suite. I raise my voice to draw her eye to me. “Can I help you?”

She pauses with her small fist poised to knock on our door and turns toward me. A warm, welcoming smile spreads across her lovely oval face. Her dark brown eyes twinkle in the soft light of the hall. “Drew, just the man I was hoping to see.”

I raise my eyebrow at her statement. I’m not sure which twin she is, but they both seemed more interested in Chelly than me the last time we tangled. “Yes?”

“My father called. The boats are being repaired. You won’t be able to use them until we get parts flown in. They’re due by the end of the week.”

“Boats? How many do you have on the island?”

“Three.”

“And all three are out of service at once?”

“Yes,” she replies, without a hint of guile in her voice.

Something doesn’t feel right. I press my will forward, staring deep into the young woman’s eyes. “What is wrong with the boats?”

Her eyes widen slightly, indicating she’s under my influence and will answer truthfully. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about boats.”

The answer doesn’t help me figure out what’s going on, but at least I know she’s not bald face lying to me. I pull my will back and nod, dismissing the young woman. “Thanks…?” I trail off, unsure which woman I’m addressing.

“Carmella.”

“Yes. Thanks, Carmella. We’ll head down to the dock and see what Dalton says about the repair work.”

The South American beauty shrugs a shoulder, uncaring one way or the other and walks back down the hall the way she came. I move to open our door only to have Chelly beat me to it. “All packed,” she says with a smile, love shining brightly in her eyes to anyone who bothered to look. “I did yours, too.”

Warmth seeps through me at her thoughtfulness. Relief relaxes my shoulders, releasing tension I didn’t know I was holding. One way or another we’ll get to the bottom of this and have our time together. And when we are alone next, I don’t plan on waiting to show this luscious creature exactly what I want to do with her.

I step forward and take her round cheeks in my hands. Leaning in, I place my lips on hers in a light kiss of gratitude. “Thank you.”

Within twenty minutes
the five of us are walking to the dock, the modified golf carts parked at the bottom of the sloping hill. The wind whips our light coats against our body and sends Chelly’s longer hair flying into the breeze like a flapping flag. The smell of the ocean overpowers the weaker aromas of the tiny island, oddly uplifting with the water’s cleansing scent despite the wet weight of it in the wind.

The sun has started its descent, weak light slanting across the gravel road, casting long ragged shadows behind us. Paul and I have every inch of skin covered to avoid exposure, including scarves around our ears and faces. To the observer we might appear to be covering up from the chill, even though the fall temps here are nothing compared to what we’re used to in Alaska.

“How long will the boat ride be?” Bob asks.

The clock at the house read a quarter after six when we left. Which means we’ll be flying in full dark by the time we get to the hangar and take off. “A little over an hour.”

“I hate boats,” he continues. “They make me sick.”

Tommy snorts. “Considering you finished a huge bag of Cheetos a little bit ago, that can’t be good. I won’t be sitting near you on the boat.”

The good-natured ribbing keeps up all the way to the dock, where a stoic Dalton greets us. The dark-haired man stands stiff, his face lined in worry. “I’m sorry, sir,” he says to me, “the boats are inoperable. Didn’t my sister-in-law reach you?”

I motion the others into the boathouse so I can talk to the caretaker alone. “Yes,” I begin, pressing my will forward with the word, snaking deep into his consciousness. “She did pass on the information. Can you tell me what happened to the boats?”

He opens his mouth to respond and hesitates. There! I sense a presence in his mind. Another vampire has been in here, and by the subtlety implemented, I’d guess they weren’t expecting their actions to be discovered.

“The motors won’t turn over on two of them. And the third won’t hold oil.” The caretaker meets my eye, appearing to believe ever word he says. “My engine knowledge is not the best. We’re waiting for a boat mechanic to come from shore with parts.”

In a flash of insight, I snag a vague memory floating in Dalton’s mind of him sabotaging the boats. The image is buried so deeply, he’s not even aware he did it. Which can only mean someone else directed in his actions. Without being cognizant of it, the handsome caretaker has recently become a vampire pawn, probably in a plot against the family he’s served for two decades.

I delicately look for a trace of mental contamination that may lead me to the culprit, but whoever dallied in his brain was very delicate, not disturbing too much or planting overtly traitorous actions in Dalton’s mind.

It will take more skill than I possess to dig through these fine threads and uncover the truth. I pull back my will and smile reassuringly at the man. “I know my way around an engine. Let me try my hand.”

His face pinches, but he nods and steps aside. I enter the boathouse to see Bob already tinkering in the engine compartment of one of the boats. A glance over my shoulder reveals Dalton walking toward the home he shares with Flavia. Could he be up to something else?

I shake my head, wondering if I’m doing the right thing, or if there could be a more elaborate trap in store for us. A cleared throat brings my attention back to our group. The others sit on their luggage, eager to begin this new segment of our journey. Chelly sends me an encouraging smile and I nod my reassurance. I grab a toolbox near a support beam then leap onto the boat deck.

I’m surprised another vampire has compromised the caretaker—but, more so that Vivian didn’t check all of the island’s inhabitants when we arrived for possible corruption. Sloppy. That’s what that is.

I ruminate over her actions while clicking on a flashlight to aid Bob in his exploration. She respects the humans loyal to her beyond what is safe, and now it’s come around to bite her in the ass. Could Dalton be implanted with silent orders extending past keeping us on the island? Have the others been affected and that’s why the ladies have been overly familiar too soon?

I crouch down and angle the beam of light deeper into the engine compartment. “What do you think, Bob?”

He scratches his head, pushing thin flyaway hair into disarray. “The starter is disconnected, and a few other wires have been pulled away from their connections.” He reaches a hand into the toolbox and grabs a wrench. “Give me ten minutes and we’ll try the engine. If it still doesn’t turn over, I’ll dig deeper for another cause.”

I pat the stout man on his shoulder in thanks and stand. “This one might work out,” I call to the others in the boathouse. “With any luck, we’ll be out of here soon.”

After a rough,
fast-paced trip over choppy water—punctuated by Bob repeatedly hurling his stomach contents over the side—we arrive in port. I manned the small boat as if the hounds of hell could swim and were pursuing us. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the unease and anxiety filling my gut, pushing me to go faster.

I checked my cell phone often, and unlike our compatriots in Alaska who called after we sent in Cy as back up, I never heard from Rafe. True fear for them began to set in after the boat engine turned over. I joined Vivian’s seethe for a reason—I don’t want to lead. Never have.

Some people might consider such a trait as a weakness, but I don’t. Knowing your own strengths and weaknesses takes a lot of soul searching and honesty—something not everyone will take the time to explore. Doing so might reveal things they’d rather leave undiscovered. Plausible deniability.

Everyone likes to play armchair quarterback from the safety of their homes via instant replay, but making an instant decision when the stakes are much higher than a simple game can be paralyzing. Are you making the right choice? Will a mistake cost the lives of the people around you? Have they put their faith in you to make the best decision when even you aren’t so sure of the correct path?

I smooth my facial features, keeping my expression free of any inner turmoil—in the same way an experienced vampire can become still and not reveal their presence to those around them. A useful skill to develop when living among a species that thrives on back stabbing, politics, and intrigue—which many of my past seethes have.

A hired car takes us to the small inland airport and Vivian’s private hangar. The flight plan was filed on our behalf ahead of time—after I do a last minute check we should be ready for takeoff. I motion the others inside and race through the safety list.

I climb the rented aircraft’s stairs and pull them closed behind me. Everyone settles into seats and gets themselves comfortable. I glance to the front of the small dual-propeller plane and call out, “Paul, come sit with me.”

He stows his bag and joins me in the cockpit. “What do you need?”

I nod to the seat next to me as I place the communication headset over my ears. “I want you to join me so you can get a feel for the way things work. Sort of an introduction to flight. Also, I want to talk to you about some things.”

I wait until we’re airborne and cruising at a good altitude to talk about what’s really on my mind. “Can you feel Vivian in the back of your mind?”

Paul looks away from the many lights of the dash to glance in my direction. “What do you mean?”

“Sometimes, I’ve been able to detect her moods and feelings if I concentrate hard enough.” I roll my shoulders, trying to shake the apprehension I felt when talking to Rafe on the phone then stare out the windshield into the dark sky. “But when I woke up today that slight presence was gone.”