Hungers of the Heart Read online

  His cell phone rang. His blood ran cold when he saw La Vieille’s number on the caller ID. He wasn’t sure how he could maintain any hint of composure with the devil on the line, but he had no choice but to answer.

  “I just got off the phone with my daughter,” La Vieille said after Armand’s cautious greeting. “She informs me that you’ve lost yet another of your entourage.”

  It wasn’t something he could deny. “Yes, Your Excellency.”

  He felt the sizzle of her power all around him, making the air thin and hard to breathe.

  “I am losing patience with you, Seigneur,” she said. “I did not send you to America to amuse my daughter with your comedy of errors.”

  “My deepest apologies, Your Excellency,” he an­swered, trying not to gasp in the oxygen-starved air.

  She made a rude noise. “Your apologies mean noth­ing to me! I grow tired of your incompetence. Tomor­row night at midnight your time, I shall call again. If you do not have concrete progress to report, I shall consider that a sign that you are a lost cause. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, Your Excellency.”

  “And remember, dearest Seigneur~ I have an insur­ance policy in place. Should you or your people at­tempt to flee my wrath, your punishment will be ever so much worse.”

  Armand tried to ignore the fear that chilled his spine, but between that and the thin air, he couldn’t find the will to offer the polite response she awaited. But perhaps La Vielile understood the reason for his silence and was thus satisfied, for she didn’t scold his lack of response. She simply hung up, leaving him alone to fight the demons of terror and despair.

  By the time he’d reached the house once more, something vaguely resembling peace—or, perhaps more accurately, resignation—had settled over him.

  There was still a chance that by La Vieille’s deadline, he would be able to report some concrete progress and gain a stay of execution. But once La Vieille decided he’d failed, there would be no hope for the survival of any of the delegation.

  If Faith and Lily were to escape the price of fail­ure, they would have to do so before he failed. And that left him but one option—he had to set them free.

  15

  DRAKE PUT AS much distance as he could between himself and the house, striding blindly down the street, still fighting to rein himself in. His glamour assured that he wouldn’t be noticed by passersby, so he passed through their midst, an unseen presence.

  The wounds where the glass had sliced his skin had closed up, though he could still smell the cop­pery scent of blood. That scent continued to stir his hunger, though he was at least marginally in control of himself. For all his hunger, for all his rage, he did not feel particularly tempted to drag a random pedes­trian into a dark alley.

  He kept his head down, his jaw clamped, trying to think through the fog that clouded his mind.

  When he did manage to think, he was not at all happy with his thoughts, which hovered around the leaden moment when Faith admitted she wouldn’t trust him with Lily. Not that he could blame her. His control had hung on the thinnest of threads, and there was no way she could have looked at him and not seen that. Why should she think he could resist the temptation of a helpless mortal victim when the predator inside him had so clearly been awakened?

  There was no reason at all, and yet he couldn’t help the ache in his heart, the sour taste of betrayal in his mouth. He had thrown himself out a second-story window to avoid killing a woman he didn’t know, a woman whom some people would see as the dregs of society. How could Faith imagine he would harm an innocent child?

  “You know,” said a voice from behind his left shoulder, “if you’re ready to pull your head out of your ass and come back to the real world, we have things to talk about.”

  Drake jumped and whirled around, not quite be­lieving what he thought he’d heard. He stared at the spike-haired, leather-clad, baby-faced figure who stood grinning behind him, and blinked. The figure didn’t go away.

  “Gabriel?” he asked stupidly.

  The grin grew wider. “Surprised?”

  Drake shook his head in confusion. “But how…?” The grin faded, replaced with a much flatter ex­pression. “Brigitte had me bricked up in a basement in the middle of burnfuck nowhere. There wasn’t even a lock on the door I could use my telekinesis on. Eventually, a mortal wandered close enough to the property that I was able to snag him with my glamour and have him break me out with a sledgehammer.”

  Gabriel started walking, beckoning Drake to fol­low with a jerk of his chin. Drake stared at the pave­ment as he fell into step beside the older vampire.

  “I assume you’ve spoken with Jez,” Drake said.

  “Yes.”

  “And she told you she wants me out of Baltimore.”

  “Yes. And I told her we’d talk about it later. We have more important things to think about right now than your feuding.”

  Drake cut him a sharp look. “I’m not the one feud­ing.”

  But Gabriel shook his head. “I told you, there are more important things to talk about. We’ll talk about your future when we’re not under invasion.”

  Drake came to a stop, unwilling to let the subject go. “You expect me to fight for you, to risk my life, when you might send me packing?”

  Gabriel gave him one of his cold stares. “Yes, I do. Or are you so mercenary that you have to know what’s in it for you before you agree to help?”

  Drake winced and looked away.

  “Sorry’ Gabriel said with surprising gentleness. Gentleness was not ordinarily something he was very good at. “Spending several days bricked up in an eight-by-ten room hasn’t exactly done wonders for my temper?’

  ENSCONCED IN HER room, brooding and feeling dreadfully guilty, Faith at first didn’t register the sound of the front door opening and closing. When she did come out of her funk and realize what heard, her pulse leapt with the hope that Drake returned from wherever he’d gone. She didn’t how she could apologize for the way she’d hurt but she was damn well going to try.

  Wiping at her eyes to make sure no tear a remained, she stiffened her spine and crossed to bedroom door as she heard footsteps approach. swung the door open, rehearsing her apology. Bi wasn’t Drake who stood in the doorway.

  It took every scrap of her will not to slam the c in Armand’s face. Her fingers tightened on the until her joints ached with the pressure, and iiu of meeting his eyes she stared fixedly at his shoulder.

  “I know how angry you are with me,” he softly, “and I know I deserve it. But we need to

  Something about his voice, a hint of roughness, made her look up. Never had she seen an expression so. . . vulnerable on the Seigneur’s face.

  Her anger didn’t exactly evaporate, but it dimmed from a roiling boil to a simmer. She stepped aside, silently inviting him into her room. Not that could have kept him out anyway.

  “What is there to talk about?” she asked when closed the door behind him. “It’s not like you’ve cared about my feelings.”

  She expected him to deny it, but he didn’t, ins looking pensive. Finally, he said, “It was never I didn’t care. It was merely that in my arrogance, I assumed I would one day win you over.”

  She wanted to rage at him, tell him exactly what she thought of him. She settled for thinking about the plan she had proposed to Drake. Perhaps Drake would no longer have any interest in helping her or Lily after this evening’s display. Then again, perhaps he wasn’t as petty as the Seigneur. She wondered if ~ now, Drake had found her a gun. She envisioned holding that gun to Armand’s head and pulling the trigger.

  The image was not as appealing as she’d expected, considering what he’d done tonight.

  He licked his lips. “I never meant you ill, Faith’ he said, startling her with his use of her name. “If... When I’ve treated you badly, it was never out of any malice toward you.”

  She raised her chin. She’d always known that, but it had never much mattered. “Do you think that mad
e ii hurt less when you hit me?” She wasn’t sure where she was finding the courage to speak so boldly to him, and she half expected him to remind her of her place.

  His eyes narrowed, but his tone remained mild. “I won’t apologize for that. As a Seigneur, it has been necessary for me to be a harsh ruler. It would take someone far stronger than myself to rule vampires who did not fear me. And as you well know, even those stronger than I prefer to rule by intimidation, even if they don’t need to.”

  She wanted to argue the point, but some small part of her knew he was right. She knew most, if not all, of the vampires who served him. Had they not feared him, he could never have controlled them. Even those who were mild mannered as mortals tended become aggressive as vampires. Faith felt it herself, felt how once she’d turned vampire, her instincts urged her to choose “fight” over “flight.”

  “The point I’m trying to make,” Armand continued, “is that whether you believe it or not, whether I’ve shown it or not, I do care about you, and about Lily.” He moved closer to her, and though as usual her reflexes urged her to back away, she held still and met his gaze.

  “You and Lily can do nothing to affect the out-come of our mission here.” He closed the remaining distance between them, and when he reached up cup her cheek in his palm, the expression in his eyes was so raw she didn’t even think to pull away..

  “I still hope and pray that Charles and I can prevail,” he said. “But I can’t risk the chance that v might not. I can’t risk the chance that La Vieilel would get her hands on you or Lily.”

  Faith’s heart gave a thud behind her breastbone. She knew of only one way to keep herself and Lily out of La Vieille’s clutches. “Are you telling me you’re going to kill us?” she asked, pleasantly surprised that h voice didn’t quaver. It was a fate better than that which La Vieille promised, but Faith hated the idea that she and Lily could be so close to winning their freedom only to die before they had a chance to try.

  Armand’s eyes widened in surprise as his hand dropped from her cheek. “Of course not!” he said, and Faith let out a shaky breath. The corners of his mouth twitched into a wry smile. “Ma petite, if I were going to kill you to keep you from her, you can he sure you would never see it coming. I certainly wouldn’t tell you about it beforehand.”

  “How comforting,” she murmured, then winced because he might find the sarcasm insolent.

  Instead, he ignored her words. “What I’m trying to tell you is that you and Lily are free to go.”

  Faith’s heart gave another thud and her jaw dropped open. “What did you say?” she asked, her voice no more than a whisper through her constricted throat.

  Armand had gone back to staring straight ahead, his eyes distant. “I know how little you think of me. I know you believe me a heartless monster. I bear little resemblance to the man I once was before I was turned, but no matter what you think, I’m not com­pletely without honor. I can’t risk what La Vieille would do to you just because I want you by my side. ii I didn’t need Charles to have any hope of success, I’d let him go, too. But everyone in Rouen who be­longs to me will suffer if I fail, and T hope Charles will understand why he and I must continue to try?’

  Faith felt positively dizzy with the welter of emo­tions that whirled within her. Never for a moment had she considered the possibility that Armand might ~ct her and Lily free for no reason other than to pro­tect them.

  Armand straightened his shoulders and faced her once again. The wry smile was back, though she detected a hint of bitterness in it as well.

  “You thought my need to possess you was so great that I would allow you and Lily to risk death by torture before setting you free?” he asked, then shook head. “Of course you did. But then, you’ve never ally understood me anyway.”

  Faith couldn’t help the derisive snort that escaped her. “This from a man who can’t understand why forcing me to his bed with glamour is rape no matter how much pleasure he forces me to feel.”

  He grimaced. “I can’t claim to understand. Bui don’t need to understand to apologize. It means nothing, I know, but I never meant to hurt you.” The expression on-his face turned closed and shuttered, he abruptly changed the subject. “You must leave immediately. And you mustn’t tell me where you’re going. I would never willingly betray you to La Vie, but I have no doubt she can do things to me that suck every drop of honor from my soul. If I don’t know where you are, I can’t tell her.”

  The thought of what Armand would suffer if failed made Faith’s chest ache in distress. She h been willing—in theory, at least—to shoot him But she wouldn’t wish that kind of suffering on one, not even him. To her surprise, tears prickled eyes.

  “You’ll still be in danger,” Armand warned. “From what I’ve gathered, there aren’t as many vampires America as there are at home, especially in the mo rural areas, but as long as you refuse to kill, you be an easy target.”

  “I’m not becoming a Killer!”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Even if that’s the only way to keep Lily safe?”

  She gave the idea a split-second’s thought, then dismissed it. “No. If something were to happen to me, Lily would still survive. It would be hard on her, but she’d find a way.”

  Armand smiled at her. “I admire your principles, even if I don’t share them.” He sobered once more. “I suggest you pack the bare minimum of items you need and then leave this house within the hour. I want you as far away from us as possible, the sooner the better.”

  Once again, she felt the sting of tears. “Thank you, Seigneur,” she said, meaning it for the first time.

  A tear escaped the corner of her eye. Armand smiled as he reached out to brush it away.

  “I hope you will think better of me for this,” he said softly. “And I am selfishly glad to know some­one will shed a tear for me if the worst happens.”

  “Be careful?’ Her cheeks heated at her lame words, but Armand smiled faintly.

  “Thank you. You, too,” he said before slipping out the door. That was when she realized that if Drake didn’t return to the house within the hour, she would never see him again. Would never have the chance to apologize. But that couldn’t be helped. All she ct do was hope he got back in time—and hope he was even willing to speak to her.

  ***

  AFTER THE KILL, Gabriel helped Drake dispose the body. They spoke very little, which, considering their mutual prickly tempers, was probably a go thing.

  Feeding had calmed some of the clamor in Dr’ body and mind, but he was still not himself. He kept thinking about how Faith had looked at him. T Seigneur had been determined to show her that Drake was as much a Killer as he. He had succeeded. once again, Drake had to wonder if the cold-blooded -Johnnie Drake had been more real than he wanted believe.

  “You’re sulking again,” Gabriel said when left the crematorium.

  Drake’s lips curled back in a snarl. “I’m not sulking,” he retorted, not entirely sure that was true. been a rough few days.”

  Gabriel sniffed disdainfully. “Remember, I know what it’s like to be judged by Saint Eli and found lacking. You can wallow in it, or you can admit he’s sanctimonious prick and get on with your life.”

  Drake couldn’t help laughing. “And I thought you and your dad had patched things up.”

  Gabriel’s grin was almost playful. “We’re not try­ing to kill each other anymore. Surely that’s an im­provement?”

  Drake acknowledged that with a nod. “Eli has nothing to do with the muddle I’ve got myself into.”

  “Like hell he doesn’t.”

  Drake waved off the protest. “It has nothing to do with Eli’ he repeated. “It has to do with my past. Which you know nothing about?’

  “Actually, that’s not true. Brigitte dug up your past, and she shared some of it with me.”

  Drake’s jaw tightened. “Why would she do that?” And what exactly had She told him? How much had Padraig told her?

  “Like I said, we’re going to have
lots to talk about when this is all over. Now isn’t the time. We need to rid ourselves of Brigitte and Henri while they don’t know I’ve gotten free. Then we have to get rid of this damn delegation. Then we can handle the next set of problems.”

  “What next set of problems?” Drake asked, but wasn’t surprised when Gabriel ignored the question.

  “The good news is that Brigitte seems to be play­ing her little games every night. I want you to go back to the house—alone. Participate in whatever hunt the Seigneur has planned for the evening. I’ll cloak my presence, but I’ll be keeping watch. If I Brigitte or Henri make an appearance, I’ll be ready For them.”

  “I wish you’d tell me what else you know,” Drake said.

  “If I thought it would help, I’d tell you.” Drake laughed softly. “Now you sound just your father,” he said, knowing how much Gabi appreciated any comparison with Eli.

  “I could still kick the shit out of you on general principle,” Gabriel mused, and Drake backed down.

  “Fine. Keep your secrets. I’d better get back to house. For all I know, they’ve gone out hunting without me.” -

  “No, Jez says everyone’s still there. And no sign our friends yet. But you’re right, you’d best get back.”

  They’d reached an intersection, and Gabriel peel off to go wherever it was he planned to watch from.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Gabriel called before was out of earshot. Drake turned and raised an eyebrow. “I know what corruption smells like. If you started to stink, I’d have killed you before you knew I was there.”

  Then he walked off without another word.

  16

  CHARLES WAS IN the downstairs den, trying not to think about how low he had sunk, when he saw Faith and Lily exit the house. They each carried a small, carry-on size bag, and they moved at a brisk pace just short of a jog.

  He wondered how they could possibly think they would escape with both Armand and Charles in resi­dence, and he expected to see Armand descend the stairs in a fury at any moment. But it didn’t happen.

  Charles didn’t know what was going on, but he knew he didn’t have time to alert the Seigneur to their departure if he didn’t want them to get away. Faith not being the Seigneur’s fledgling, he would only be able to track her over a limited distance. If she jumped in a cab, she’d be out of range in a matter of minutes.