Reluctant Mates - 21 Paranormal Romance Stories (Werewolf, Vampire, Minotaur and Monster collection) (63 page)

Click.

Samson lunged forward with the last strength left in his shredded leg. He caught the bastard by the throat. “I might be stupid,” he growled, low and loud, “but you’re dead.” In one motion he lifted the creature off the ground by the neck, snatched one of the guns from his hand, and slammed it in the monster’s chest, butt-end first. That looked like it hurt.

The vampire shrieked, writhed, twitched, and bled out. Samson threw him to the ground and then collapsed himself.

Bolton rushed out of the underbrush to his side, and the last I saw before turning to enter the elder’s tent, was our Alpha tying a tourniquet around Samson’s now-human leg to staunch the bleeding. “You’ll be fine,” he said, lifting the man off the ground. “And I gotta hand it to you –
two
good one-liners in a row. That’s a record.” The big man chuckled a little, then moaned and clutched his leg.

“Leave me Bolton, just get the mission done. I did everything I could. Don’t waste time on me.”

“Bullshit, Samson. What do you think my job is? I don’t leave men behind.”

He hunched over, splinted Samson’s leg. A split second later, he was gone. The only trace of either of them was a crashing sound heading back in the direction of our camp.

I was alone. I had a mission. I was not going to fail.

A tinny beep in my ear interrupted my pep-talk. Miller was calling.

“Mathis – Bolton just let me know the situation. You got this. If you have any trouble with the boss or the radio man, let me know. Crockett and Andrews have secured the prisoners. Andrews is heading back this way, but Crockett is going to stay near in case you need him. He’ll be dealing with the package that Bolton had to abandon. He’s there if you need him.”

“Gotcha. Thank him for me.” I whispered.

“No problem. That’s what we do. Miller out.”

The earpiece went dead.

My turn.

***

I
nside the tent, a strange musk hung in the air. A kind of pungent, foul incense had just been burned, judging from the stink. The leader was nowhere to be seen. I crept inside, and let my eyes adjust to the light. A shiver tingled at the base of my spine, and I remembered that I was still a seven foot werewolf. That wouldn’t do any good here. Once I was absolutely sure I was alone, I crouched, closed my eyes and gritted my teeth hard, staving off the pain. Turning back into a human was almost exactly the same as becoming a wolf, just in reverse. My body contorted, twisted and wrenched as bones realigned and muscles moved. The only real difference was the hair. It just fell out.

I blinked hard, rubbed my eyes. Still nothing in here.

Poking around some of the papers strewn about the place, I found one marked “Moreno operation” that let me know all sorts of things that I’m sure the vampires didn’t want getting out. How much they were paid, what their exact orders were, and, “aha!” I said out loud, a list of radio frequencies. Perfect. As I continued to search the tent, I rolled up the folder and tucked it into one of my pockets. There had to be some sort of trap door, or a hidden chamber. But... there wasn’t. Nothing I could find anyway. A few minutes later, the dirt floor was crisscrossed by finger tracks I’d produced in a futile effort to figure out where this creepy old bastard hid.

Nothing. Not a clue. We were on a time table. I needed to radio Moreno’s men in less than an hour if the plan was going to work. He had to be on the move in the early morning. Otherwise, the dominoes were all about to tumble. I had to think of something.

Had to think of something.

Anything.

Tap. Tap. Tap.
I rapped my fingers on the top of a small brown desk.

“What the hell,” I complained, rifling through more papers, most of them blood type reports on local farmers. I had to laugh.

My ear-piece fuzzed, and Miller’s voice came through again.

“Alright, Crockett managed to get the package in place. You have about five minutes until that place goes up.”

“Roger. Wait,
about
five minutes? Aren’t things like bomb timers supposed to be more accurate than that?”

“Ah... yes, well. He actually forgot to check when he set it, so I made him go back and look. The timer’s screen is a little futzy, so...”

Before I could respond in a properly witty fashion, a hand closed around my throat. I guess I found him.

“You came back, little wolf,” the gray-skinned nosferatu sneered, kicking the chair out from under me and lifting me to my feet. “I think this will be the last time you make such a mistake.” His fingers around my throat were cold. Not a normal sort of chilly, but one that penetrated to his bones. There was no heart in this creature, no passion. He seemed, honestly, like middle-management.

That was the first time I had such a thought. Bolton had mentioned something about a vampiric power structure, but he didn’t know anything about it, and sort of dismissed the notion out of hand. As I thought about it though, my feet swinging in the air, it made sense. He
must
be working for someone else, otherwise...

No time for that. I had a mission to complete. I’d make sure to ask him what his boss’s name was before I speared him. First though, I needed to make a call.

Remembering that these creatures operated as a sort of hive-mind, I knew I needed to incapacitate him one somehow. For whatever reason, when he was in the throes of passion, as I’d learned last time we met; I could take over for him, psychically issuing commands to the lesser vampires.

“By the way,” he hissed, “we never were properly introduced. What do your friends call you?”

“You first, Dracula. Tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.” Bolton would have been proud.

“Vlad.” The creature shot back, his voice full of venom.

“You have to be kidding. Vlad? Like Vlad the Impaler? No way.” He shut me up with a squeeze.

“No. Vladimir. I was Russian in my human life. Now I am just vampire.”

A Communist, Russian vampire? This was even harder to buy than the whole werewolf thing was. Dangling from my neck, I still rolled my eyes. He forgot to ask me again for my name. I didn’t remind him.

I looked down at my watch. A minute or so had passed since I heard from Miller. That meant I had
about
four minutes to get this vampire’s dick in my mouth, stupefy him, and bring down a dictator-to-be. Better get to work.

Deciding on the direct route, I squirmed around, dropped a shoulder and reached down for the vampire’s cock.

Ding!

What on Earth?

“Tisk, tisk, little wolf!” he clucked, “I know your tricks. Not going to work this time.” He pulled his loose-fitting trousers to his knees to reveal something that I honestly had no idea was real. A chastity belt. This was going to be a story for the Jungle Wolves annals.

New plan.

As the vampire grinned, obviously proud of himself for his medieval underpants, I flexed my neck to loosen his fingers and introduced him to my knee. Cracking his chin made his pointed teeth
clack
together and caused him to reel backwards. He still had me though. I tried another knee attack but he expected this one, and turned it aside.

He tightened the vice on my throat and slammed a fist into my gut once, then again. It felt like a tiny truck bashing into my stomach, but his third punch was off center and hurt him worse than it did me.

Vlad hissed, sucking pain through the gap in his front teeth. I swung my knee again and caught him this time, but not quite flush on the jaw. Black ooze trickled over his cracked lip and bought me enough time to raise my foot behind him and give him a smart heel kick in the ribs. That hurt him. He wretched, dropped his guard, and caught a foot in the solar-plexus. Finally,
finally
, he lost his grip on my throat. I hit the floor, rolled, and swept his feet out from under him. The creature collapsed to the ground, tailbone hitting first.

That ridiculous chastity belt must have not seemed like such a good idea when his tailbone cracked against it, making a
ding!
sound that had to hurt.

I could beat him for hours, and while fun, that wouldn’t get the job done. I had to get that belt off, and fast. Thinking that being direct never hurt, I decided to just grab the damn thing and yank it off the monster.

Bad plan.

As soon as I touched the belt with my bare hand, searing, blasting pain shot through my arm. A terrible shrieking sound, a lot like dry ice touched with a spoon, filled the room, and I smelled my own flesh burning.

“Silver.” He said with a bloody, ghastly smile.

Angry, I crunched the bridge of his nose with my forehead. That felt good. His first reaction was to howl in pain at his broken face, but then he just started that mocking, horrible cackle again, now tinged with a little gurgle. He had me by the balls, and he knew it.

His laughter, the cackling, and the smug look on his face enraged me. I grabbed the belt again, jerked on it hard, and realized there was no way I could get it off him. It was thick, and it was locked.

“Where’s the key?” I growled, slamming his head back against the hard, dirt floor. “Where is it?!”

He just laughed and laughed, blood starting to stream out of his nose. “I know about the bomb,” he said, “by my count, you have two minutes now. You run, fail your fool mission, and return to your beloved Bolton a shamed coward, or you stay, get blown up and lose anyway. Not much of a choice, hmm?”

I slammed his head into the ground again. The vampire chortled – gurgling and grotesque.

“Interested in a deal, little wolf? You let me drink some of that werewolf blood of yours and I’ll radio Moreno myself. I’ll let that overblown fool wander right into your trap. I don’t care at all about some petty political game, and neither do the people for whom I work. Moreno is just a pawn. An errand boy that will get us what we want. What do you say, little Mathis?”

I never told him my name. He must have been listening to Miller through my earpiece. That means he’d been in the tent the whole time. Unbelievable. Impossible. I thought fast. I decided to play to Vlad’s greed. I clicked my teeth together as hard as I could.

“Okay, fine. One condition. You have to sell out your leaders. I’ll let you drink all the blood you want, but you have to radio Moreno, and you have to tell me who got you into this. Think about it.” I could see the wheels in his brain begin to turn. “They’ll never know you talked. Hell, we’ll even off them for you. You move up the vampire career ladder, and we get Moreno. Win win.”

His eyes crinkled. I read him right.

“I drink, and then I talk.”

“Deal.”

I crooked my neck and thumped my vein.

He laughed again.

“I’m not trying to kill you,” he said, grabbing my wrist, “no matter how much I’d like to. You’re far more useful alive than dead. Once I drink, I’ll always know where you are, what you’re doing. You’ll be under my control. But you knew that.”

Actually, no, I didn’t.

He grabbed my wrist and sunk in his fangs. Something burned. From the tiny punctures in my wrist, a sort of serum must have spread to keep me bleeding. Imagine that – vampires are just mosquitoes, but bigger. No surprise there. He slurped, and licked for few long, awful moments and then he withdrew. As soon as he pulled his fangs free, the wounds closed to pin-pricks. He stood, wobbly.

“I own you now, little wolf.”

I felt him probing my mind, poking, prodding. I clutched my temples, fighting back against his control. To be honest, I was playing it up a little. I did feel him trying to invade, but it wasn’t very hard to keep control. As long as I concentrated on my own consciousness, he seemed unable to do much.

“Yeah, fine. I’ll give myself up. But first keep your end of the deal.”

He hesitated. Maybe he meant to fight.

“Will it matter? You don’t care about Moreno, and I’ll be your thrall. I won’t even have a mind a few minutes from now, so who cares what I know?” Good thing he was so proud of himself for talking me into this that he let his guard down. Hubris. Never good.

“You’re right,” he mewled, “it doesn’t matter. I’m an assistant chief of the Volga tribe of vampires. Yes, named after the river. Our leader changes, but right now he is an elder called Pyotr. Good luck finding him; even I have don’t know where he makes his lair. Even if I did, he’s paranoid. He moves constantly, never stays in the same place.”

He had no idea that when I’d clacked my teeth, the noise was loud enough to activate my communicator. Miller had been listening to the whole exchange.

“So, Moreno. Then I’m yours.”

“Oh, fine. I couldn’t care less about that fool.”

He snatched a hand-held shortwave off the table in front of him.

“Night Ranger to HQ. Do you read?”

A static-filled response: “HQ reads, over.”

“Send the men. We’re en route. Night Ranger over and out.”

“Copy, Night Ranger. HQ out.”

He tossed it to the ground. “Done. He’ll be wading right into your trap before noon.”

Immediately, I felt my consciousness slipping. Vlad grabbed my wrists. “You’ll make quite a spy. Tell me, slave, are there any of your silly comrades still here or did they leave after that ridiculous show that the big one put on earlier?”

“All...gone. Just me...left.” My earpiece was still open, Miller heard everything. I trusted him to do the rest.

“Good. Very good. I’m letting you go scampering back to Bolton. But first I have to give you a souvenir.”

He jabbed some kind of spike between my shoulder blades, urging me in front of him.

“Where... where are we going?”

“Oh, nowhere. Just across the camp. I like to mark all my slaves. Sort of a brand, but internal. A little microchip. It won’t hurt.”

“Across... the camp? Where?”

“Oh, just across the way. You remember the incinerator, don’t you? Near that.”

I couldn’t believe how easy this was. But, that was the last thought I had. He fully took me. I was a walking husk. I hoped it worked.

Halfway across the camp’s courtyard, my consciousness stirred. A crack of limbs, leaves rustling. My thoughts were sparse. I felt like I was walking through a dream.