Vampire Thirst (5 page)

“But they are not to be trusted!” Balaur growled. “They condemned us to this
miserable plane for eternity.”
 

“A wise man compasses his belief to the evidence.” Long-Chi’s thunderous voice echoed in the cave.

Balaur lowered his eyes, but Wyvern knew
the Romanian dragon lord wasn’t easily contained.

“Wyvern,” Long-Chi called.

Wyvern lifted his hind legs and stood up. “Yes, Long-Chi.”

“It may be prudent to gather stronger evidence of this so-called alliance,” Long-Chi said. “And the king’s true intentions. If they are truly conspiring against us, then, may Apa Dobrý help us all.”

Wyvern lowered his nozzle and smiled. “I know the perfect subject for the job.”

*****

Five hours later, Wyvern landed silently above a tall building in Newark, New Jersey. Skyscrapers filled the hazy horizon. Wyvern shook the tiny droplets of rain from his back and changed into his human form. The sound of grunts reached his ears. He was definitely in the right place. He bent his knees and leaped across to the next building, several stories below. His naked feet hit the concrete without a sound. He walked across the flat terrace of the rundown penthouse and peeked through the glass doors. A tall male with dark hair was perched on top of a human woman. His bare ass rammed back and forth, prompting high-pitched cries from his female companion. His well-formed body was adorned by several tattoos, the most striking of which was a silhouette of the moon amongst trees. Very few eyes could spot the angry wolf howling behind it. Wyvern had found who he was looking for. He slid the double doors open. A whiff of stale beer and sweat invaded his nose.

As soon as the door was open, the man jumped off the bed and crouched low to the ground, baring his sharp teeth at Wyvern. His girlfriend screamed and covered herself with a pillow.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he bellowed. “I told you, I’ll pay you next month.”

“Settle down, wolf,” Wyvern replied. “I have a better offer for you.”

Chapter 5

The sun was yet to set. Hikuro got to his feet and gave up on trying to sleep altogether. After his little encounter with the dragons in the park the night before, his body was itching for more. He thought the fight would relieve some of the tension, but by Apa Dobrý, how wrong he had been. It had been too fast, too easy. And Sam was still mad at him. For what? For saving her life? Women. That was the exact reason why he was single.

The thought of her in the hands of those two dracos ignited another wave of rage that threatened to consume Hikuro’s sanity. His fists clenched at his sides, his jaw popped. For a second, he wanted to kill the bastards all over again. At first, Hikuro had watched Sam fight them from the edge of the park. She had started well, her fighting skills were very impressive, but why had she used so much power to blast one adversary when she knew the other one was right on her heels? When Hikuro realized she couldn’t even stand up, let alone fight the bastards, he didn’t waste any time. He had eliminated them like flies on the wall – which made Sam turn on him. By Apa Dobrý, that woman was completely unreasonable! Yes, he had followed her there, and yes, he didn’t trust her, but how could he after the stunt she had pulled on him in New York? She had certainly done something to get him so spellbound. He had never acted so recklessly before. It wasn’t like him to kiss a complete stranger in public. Of course he had been attracted to her – she was stunning after all – but acknowledging her beauty and strutting across a packed nightclub just to taste her mouth are worlds apart. Her mouth. Her delicious pink mouth.

His fangs suddenly descended of their own accord.

Right. He needed to feed.

He reached for one of the duffle bags he had picked up from his safe house last night
–
after having ensured that Sam was safe and sound in her room, despite her protests. With his knives safely fastened to his ankle, he put on his black pants, a white t-shirt, combat boots and his suit jacket made of pure Italian leather.

He then opened the bedroom door and drew in a deep breath. He could smell chicken soup and sweat. Human sweat. The kitchen could not be far away. His gums itched, but he forced his fangs to stay put inside. Crossing the corridor, he noticed a heavy door to the right. There was a coded lock on it.
Not a prison, hmm?
Yeah, right. He leaned forward and focused on the small keypad on the wall. His acute eyes registered finger prints on the numbers four, two, nine and zero. The pressure with which those buttons had been pressed was also very clear, so it was ridiculously easy for him to figure out the combination and open the door. He crossed it without a sound and locked it behind him. Muffled voices and the clicking of cutlery were added to the scent of food. He followed his senses along the corridor, which led him to a large cafeteria. Twenty or so males and females dressed in pajamas were happily eating their supper. A handful of staff members were busy cooking, serving and cleaning. When he crossed the threshold, a few of them stopped and frowned. Some waved hello. How odd.

“May I help you, Mr. Hikuro?”

Hmm, Mrs. Wilkinson. Just the one he was looking for.

Hikuro slowly turned his head and looked straight into her eyes. She succumbed almost immediately.
Let’s see what they really do in this asylum.
Hikuro poked inside the old woman’s mind and the images came out like a disjointed movie trailer. Patients resting in rooms filled with colorful lights and tantalizing aromas. An angry patient being hugged tightly by a staff member who was singing to him. Sam arriving in a ridiculous Santa Clause suit bearing presents.

Hikuro blinked and released the woman’s mind. His heart felt suddenly too tight in his chest.

“Would you like some soup?” Mrs. Wilkinson offered.

“No, thank you.”

Leaving the cafeteria behind, Hikuro decided to explore what seemed like the administrative aisle of the institution. On that side, the rooms were furnished with computers and office equipment. There was no one around. Yes, of course, this was Britain after all. At five o’clock on the dot, the country stopped and went to the pub.

Sam’s laugh echoed in his ears. She was somewhere above him. He followed her unmistakable scent of peaches up two floors to the attic. At least, that’s what it used to be. A new flight of stairs had been solidly built, granting the house’s occupants easy access. The door was partly open.

“Oh, come on! You can’t be seriously suggesting I wear this!” he heard Sam cry out, followed by Yara’s loud laugh.

What were they on about in there? Hikuro slowly pushed the door ajar and peeked inside.

Yara was sprawled on the bed, surrounded by several pieces of clothing and shopping bags. Sam stood in front of a tall stand-alone mirror, looking grim. She wore a mini skirt that left nothing to the imagination, knee-high boots and a halter-neck top that hugged her breasts together.

She looked absolutely edible.

“Why not?” Yara replied with a wide smile. “You told me Phillip’s into BDSM stuff, so you need to dress the part, honey.”

She was wearing
that
to the meeting? The Hiad she would! Hikuro’s fists clenched on the side of his body. A low growl escaped his lips before he could bite it back.

Two pairs of startled eyes met his. Then, Sam’s cheeks went bright red. She inhaled sharply and turned around.

“Good evening, Fangs!” Yara saluted him cheerfully. “We’re getting ready for the meeting with Phillip. Don’t you think Sam looks fabulous?”

Fabulous was an understatement. Hikuro’s fangs extended in accordance with his shaft.

Damn it. He forced his fangs back inside his gums.

“Yara, please!” Sam complained.

“What? It’s always good to have a male opinion.”

Hikuro paused and tightened his jaw. He had to control himself. This stupid jealous compulsion was not productive or welcome.

“It’s going to be hard to hide the wire,” Hikuro managed to say through clenched teeth.

Sam looked up at him for a second, then turned on her back sharply and started taking the boots off.

“Wait,” Hikuro’s throat was so dry that his command came out like a bark. “Keep them on. This way we can test it.”

“I’m not wearing any effing wire,” Sam mumbled, and carried on unzipping the impossibly high-heeled waders.

“The four guys who attacked you last night were not human,” Hikuro stated, trying his best to keep calm. Maybe reason would bring some sense into that stubborn mind of hers.

“What?” Yara’s eyes widened in surprise. “What were they? Razbians?” she asked Sam.

Hmm, so Miss Austen didn’t share
everything
with her BFF after all.

“No, their skin was normal. Not the lizard looking of razbians’,” Sam replied.

 “They were dracos,” Hikuro added.

“What in Hiad?” Yara shouted. “Why were dragons after you?”

“I don’t really know, and Hikuro made certain that it was impossible to question them afterwards,” Sam said, narrowing her eyes at him.

Hikuro remembered the way those dracos’ eyes had devoured Sam. His brain had simply been shut down by his rage. “They were dracos, that’s all that matters. And that makes me wonder if this snitch of yours is preparing a surprise party for your encounter.”

“Shit,” Yara cursed, then shook her head. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Amen, witch.

“But Phillip is our only lead. We can blow it for good if he gets the hint that I’m wired.” Sam counter-argued. “I’m not wearing a mike.”

Hikuro’s blood boiled. For Hiad’s sake! He felt like shoving her over his shoulder, tying her up onto the bed and forcing some sense into that hard head of hers.

Hmm, Sam tied up on his bed. Her body writhing underneath his. His gums itched and his fangs stretched down.
Fuck.
He closed his eyes, pursing his lips hard.

Yara must have interpreted his distress as a loss of patience because she lifted a hand at him. Then she reached across the bed and hugged Sam from behind. “Hon, I know you can do this on your own,” she whispered into Sam’s ear. “But I would never forgive myself if something happened to you on my watch. Please, wear the microphone. For me.”

Hikuro watched as the two friends exchanged glances. After a few seconds, Sam nodded in agreement. A flash of recognition crossed his mind. He knew how hard it was to go to the battlefield knowing one of your mates might not return. He understood that feeling very well.

“Follow me,” he ordered. “I have all the gear we need in my room.”

Chapter 6

Sam followed Hikuro down the stairs and into his bedroom. If regret could kill, she would be seven feet under by now. The joke of putting him in the smallest room in the manor suddenly lost its appeal.

Hikuro closed the door behind them and reached for a large, military-looking duffle bag that sat alongside three others on the floor.

Sam tried to find a spot farthest from the bed but it was virtually impossible, so she chose to remain where she was, right by the door.

Hikuro took his leather jacket off and crouched beside one of the bags. “There are two options to this device,” he said, opening the zipper.

Sam couldn’t help but admire the way his back muscles snaked across his broad shoulders underneath the white tee.

He turned back around, holding two small gadgets. Sam had to tip her head back. He was at least a head taller than she was.

“You can wear just a wireless ear piece, but I’ll have to be fairly close to get reception.”

No, thank you very much.

“Or we can attach the mike and the short wire with a higher-powered transmitter that will allow a longer distance between us.”

Yep, we’ve got a winner.
“The second option sounds better.”

Hikuro nodded, crouched back down and in no time he was up again, holding two miniscule plastic containers and a thin wire in his hands. His movements had been so fast that Sam jolted back in surprise.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he mumbled, his translucent cheeks going slightly red.

Wow, All Mighty Hikuro blushing. That’s a first.
Sam’s silent cheering evaporated as soon as he took a step forward and invaded her personal space. Holy cow. He smelled of aftershave and something else Sam couldn’t put her finger on.

He placed a hand on her waist, holding her in place. It was her turn to blush like a teenager on prom night.

“I’m going to have to lift your top to hide the transmitter,” he croaked. “Just a little bit.”

He was so close. Sam suddenly lost her ability to talk.
Breathe, breathe!
His long fingers tugged gently at the hem of her tighter-than-a-clam top and lifted it slowly. His knuckles brushed her skin, leaving tingles in their wake. Sam bit a sigh back.

Hikuro paused.

“Maybe I should hide it on your back,” he whispered. He took a careful step closer and reached around her.

Sam felt her legs turn to jelly. Her heart thumped so loudly in her chest that she was afraid it would wake the whole mansion up.

Hikuro licked his lips and Sam’s eyes followed the movement. Her mind was screaming to feel his mouth on hers again. Oh, who was she kidding? It wasn’t her mind that was screaming. It was something deeper, located lower on her body.   

Long fingers stroked her lower back and found the top of her mini-skirt. Unable to stop herself, she took a step forward. Her breasts, which were almost bursting out of the tight bustier, touched his rock-solid chest. Heat pooled between her legs. She heard him inhale sharply.

By Apa Dobrý, this was torture! Slowly, she tilted her head back. Her gaze met his. Dark, hungry
–
but apart from that, Hikuro’s face was unreadable. Her lips parted. His gaze swept down to her mouth.

Two loud clicks echoed in the room, then Sam stumbled forward. She grabbed the edge of the bed and steadied herself, fearing she would fall face first on the floor. Looking down, she saw the small microphone and transmitter perfectly clipped to her skirt and top.
What had just happened?