Hungers of the Heart Read online

Drake regarded him with infinite skepticism. “So you’re telling me you have no intention of killing Gabriel?”

  The Seigneur’s expression remained bland. “Un­less he’s planning to cross the ocean to invade our territory, he is no concern of ours.”

  Rarely would Drake trust Brigitte’s word in any­thing, but he suspected that in this one matter, her word was more reliable than the Seigneur’s. “Even if I believed you, I doubt Gabriel would.”

  The Seigneur arched an eyebrow. “Your master is a coward, perhaps?”

  Jez started to object. Without turning around to face her, Drake used his glamour to keep her quiet.

  Drake put on a condescending smile. “He isn’t a coward by any stretch of the imagination. But he isn’t a fool, either.”

  “I tire of this game. Tell him that if he refuses to see me, there will be.. . consequences.”

  Drake really hated to admit that Gabriel wasn’t around, that the Guardians were completely vulnerab­le. But if the Seigneur was going to kill the Guardians to punish Gabriel for not showing up, then Drake figured he had no alternative.

  “I’d be happy to convey your message. If I knew where he was.”

  Once again, the Seigneur raised an eyebrow, his lace a mask of polite curiosity.

  “Brigitte has apparently captured him,” Drake said. “She was concerned that he might help you find her. We don’t know exactly what she’s done with him. All we know is that he’s alive.”

  The Seigneur laughed. “You expect me to believe that Brigitte has the power to capture a born vampire ~l his age? I am capable of overpowering her. I am hut a born- vampire, and I am not that much older than Gabriel.”

  Well, Brigitte had warned Drake he wouldn’t believed. “Do you really think she’d let anyone in your country see how powerful she’s become? If you overpowered her, then it’s because she allowed you to.’

  The Seigneur’s brow darkened at that. “Even that’s true, Gabriel is still considerably older she is. I cannot believe she could capture him.”

  Drake shrugged. “Believe what you will. I’m telling the truth. I’m told it has something to do with the age of her fledgling and her skill at manipulating their bond. But even if that weren’t the case, she could have used that tranquilizer your people have developed.” Until Gabriel’s battle with his mother and her henchman, they’d thought there was no sui thing as a tranquilizer that could work on a vampire. Although tranquilizer was a misnomer. The drug worked by creating so much pain even a vampire Gabriel’s enormous-power lost all his strength and couldn’t concentrate enough to use his glamour.

  The Seigneur’s stare was piercing, but Drake refused to squirm under it. Finally, the Frenchman smiled faintly. “It may be that you are telling truth,” he conceded. “Then again, it may not. I will give you the benefit of the doubt, as long as you provide me and my party with hospitality for the duration of our stay in your lovely city.”

  “Hospitality?” Drake asked, though he had a sink­ing feeling he knew exactly what the Seigneur meant.

  “I will require rooms for myself and my entourage. From what I’ve seen of this house, you don’t have space for all of us to have separate rooms, but I require separate accommodations for myself, Charles, and the child.” He held out a hand without looking back. “Come here, Lily.”

  The girl Drake had noticed before came forward, smiling. One of the Seigneur’s vampires, a short and slender woman with hair so dark it was almost black, took a step forward also, reaching out to the girl. Drake thought there was a family resemblance between the two. Lily slipped by her, rolling her eyes.

  Lily took the Seigneur’s outstretched hand and practically bounced to his side. His expression light­ened, and the smile he showed her seemed genuine. held the girl’s hand, then looked at Drake. “Will you guarantee this child’s safety in your home?”

  Drake was momentarily at a loss. It wasn’t as if he’d agreed that the Seigneur and his party could stay it he house. Hell, it wasn’t even his house. Then again, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice when the Seigneur could use his refusal as an excuse to kill them all.

  Lily gave him a little extra time to think as she pulled her eyes again and said in exasperation, “Will you please stop calling me a child, Uncle Armand?” Her accent was pure American, with a hint of a southern drawl, making Drake even more curious how she’d come to be mixed up with these European vampires.

  Armand laughed and patted her hand. “I’m six hundred years old, ma petite. I’m tempted to call them children, too.” He jerked a thumb toward Guardians. Lily heaved a long-suffering sigh, didn’t argue. Armand turned his attention back Drake.

  “I ask again, will you guarantee her safety?”

  “Of course,” Drake said. Behind him, Jez made indignant noise in the back of her throat. He turn slightly so he could see her. Her face was flushed her eyes narrowed as she glared at him, but she didn’t say anything. She might not like any of this, but she understood as well as he that they were not in strong bargaining position.

  “And will you guarantee the safety of my people” Drake asked in return, though he doubted a guarantee would mean much.

  Armand nodded. “Naturally. As long as I don’t find out you’re lying to me about your master’s situa­tion.” He looked at Lily. She met his eyes and smiled Then her eyes went strangely blank, and the Seigneur continued. “Now, if I were to discover you or your master aiding Brigitte in eluding us, not only will the guarantee be revoked, but I will kill you all.” He took a moment to give each of them a chilling stare. Mean while, Lily continued to gaze vacantly into space. ‘Are we understood?”

  No one answered, but then no one had to. Apparently satisfied that his threat had been taken seriously, the Seigneur released Lily from his glamour.

  “We are all weary from traveling,” he said. ‘We will pack our belongings and return before morning. Will that be ample time for you to prepare our rooms?” Drake wondered what the Seigneur would do if he no. Instead he just nodded and wondered just had a disaster this was going to become.

  4

  ARMAND DIDN’T LOWER himself to such menial chores as packing or unpacking his own belongings, so he ordered his valet to take care of it while he ac­companied Faith to her room, one floor down from his own. She didn’t know what he wanted from he but she doubted it was anything good. His presence made her nervous enough that she had to insert the card key three times before the door would open. Armand stood in the entryway while she grabbed her suitcase and started packing.

  “Did you find this Drake attractive?” he asked. Faith dropped the suitcase on the bed, looking at the Seigneur in astonishment. “What?”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled with humor. “It is not a difficult question.”

  She stared at him, trying to fathom what he wanted—without any success.

  The humor drained from his eyes, and the corner

  his mouth tightened in annoyance. “Come now! I’m not going to fly into a rage if you say yes, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

  No, Armand Durant was not the sort to fly into rages. He could be terrifying and deadly, but what­ever emotions he had, he kept locked up tightly in­side him. Even when he inflicted the most terrible punishments, he always seemed calm and removed.

  Still not knowing what he wanted, she decided to answer honestly. “A woman would have to be dead tot to find him attractive.” The acting Master of Bal­timore had been badly outmatched, and yet he’d still managed to ooze confidence. That in itself would have made him attractive enough, but when she added the handsome face with its full, sensual lips, lie intelligence that shone through his dark eyes, and one very fine body displayed under a tight black T- shirt and supple-looking black leather pants, he be­came definite fantasy fodder.

  Armand laughed. “And a man would have to be dead not to feel the same about you. And don’t tell lie you think vampires are dead.”

  She blushed and lowered her gaze, not sure why she wa
s responding to his flattery. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t told her before that he thought she was beautiful, and it wasn’t as if it mattered.

  “What’s your point?” she asked, pulling open a drawer and digging out a handful of clothes.

  Armand came farther into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching her as she packed. “If Brigitte is to be believed—which, naturally, may be doubtful—these Baltimore vampires subsist on a mal blood, just like you do.”

  Faith froze, still bent over the suitcase. Her hands had tightened on the handful of clothes, and hastily put them down and stood straight. She met gaze and couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  He smiled at her, though the look in his eyes was too calculating to make the smile entirely genuine. “I know you’ve wanted to escape from me from the moment we met. And I also know that even if you managed to spirit yourself and your sister away, you would have nowhere to go.” His gaze sharpened. “Or maybe you would.”

  Faith swallowed hard. “What do you mean?” Her heart fluttered in her throat.

  “I must admit to a certain amount of skepticism about the Master of Baltimore’s whereabouts.”

  Faith frowned at that non sequitur. “I don’t understand.”

  “In all likelihood, he is hiding somewhere nearby.” She still didn’t get it. “And?”

  Armand’s smile became condescending. “And highly likely that his people, particularly his lieutenant, know where. A woman of your obvious charms might be able to—how shall I say it?—lower his guard?”

  Faith slammed the suitcase shut, too furious to control herself. “You unbelievable bastard! You force me to your bed all you want, but that do~ make me a whore!”

  With a flick of his hand—and no change in expression—Armand used his telekinesis to send her flying across the room until she slammed into the wall. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and she slid down, clutching her ribs as if that would somehow force her lungs to inflate once more.

  “Don’t forget your place,” Armand said quietly. He rose from the bed and came toward her.

  Faith braced herself, cursing her lack of control. She knew better than to talk back to the Seigneur. Within the first month of living with him in his manor, she’d learned—painfully—to swallow every protest hut wanted to rise to her lips. Sometimes it felt like cowardice. Other times it just felt like common sense.

  When Armand reached down and dragged her to her feet, she fully expected him to beat her. Being a vampire—even a young one who fed on animal blood—she could endure a lot of abuse and be com­pletely healed within an hour at the most, so she re­tiled herself that it would be over soon. That reminder was all that had gotten her through the first hellish month with him, but she was out of practice now, and fear threatened to overwhelm her.

  But he didn’t hit her again, instead raising her chin with his finger so she was forced to meet his eyes. “If you were to learn from him Gabriel’s whereabouts, and if your information were to lead us to fulfill our mission, then I would set both you and Lily free.”

  Her eyes widened, the blood drained from her face, and she could have sworn her heart stopped beating. She stared up at him with horror and hope battling in her chest.

  “You will have to be subtle,” Armand continued. “You don’t want him knowing that you’ve betrayed him, or you will lose your safe haven. But I will dc my best to ensure that he doesn’t know the source of my information.”

  She blinked and shook her head, shaking free of the finger that held her chin. “Why would you do this?” she whispered. She knew she was of no partic­ular use to him now that he had Marie for his bed— this evening’s interlude being an exception to the rule. But. in Armand’s view of the world, she be-longed to him, as did Lily, and he was not one to willingly give away his possessions.

  He stroked the back of his fingers over her cheek. “Perhaps because I am not as heartless as you believe me to be.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “No, that’s not it.” Unlike some other Seigneurs she’d met, Armand did have a certain sense of noblesse oblige and considered himself responsible for the well-being of his people. But that was merely because he felt it necessary to take good care of his belongings, not becau­se he actually had a heart, not because he actually care.

  He shrugged. “Does it matter why I would release you?”

  She lowered her gaze; then, when that wasn’t enough, closed her eyes. She knew nothing about these Baltimore vampires. Had no reason to care about them whatsoever. If betraying them could win her freedom—and more importantly, Lily’s freedom— then she would be a fool not to seize the opportunity.

  No matter how sleazy it might make her feel. And no matter what the Seigneur’s true motivations might be.

  “I didn’t think so,” Armand said, though she hadn’t given him her answer out loud. “Finish pack­ing. We will meet in the lobby in thirty minutes.”

  Faith nodded without opening her eyes.

  ***

  GABRIEL AND JEZ’S house had plenty of room to accommodate the European delegation, though most of the rooms hadn’t been used since Gabriel had de­throned his mother as Master of Baltimore. Drake, Eric, and Harry helped Jez prepare the rooms for their “guests,” giving everything a cursory dusting. The third floor of the house held what had once been servants’ quarters. Drake sent Eric and Harry up there to continue cleaning, but took Jez aside.

  She was looking wan and pale, her eyes distant. Still trying to contact Gabriel, no doubt.

  “Jez,” he said, and she blinked, coming back to herself.

  “What?”

  “I think Eric and Harry and I should stay here while the delegation is in the house.”

  She scowled. “Sure, invite yourself to stay. You’ve invited everyone else.”

  He sighed. “You know I had no choice. If they want to move in, there’s nothing any of us can do to ~iop them.”

  Her eyes narrowed even further. “You’re the kind of guy who thinks that a girl shouldn’t fight a rapist when she knows he can overpower her, aren’t you?”

  “What?” he asked, totally flummoxed by the ques­tion.

  “Sometimes, you should fight even when you know you can’t win.”

  He gritted his teeth. “So you would have preferred it if I refused to let them stay here, made them force the issue, and perhaps let some or all of us get hurt in the process?”

  “Yes!” Jez snapped. “They weren’t going to kill anyone, not when they think they can use us. And at least that way we wouldn’t be acting like doormats. I didn’t argue with you down there because I know it’s important to show a united front, but I swear if you roll over like that again, I won’t just sit quietly by.”

  “Yes, you will!” be snapped right back, crowding into her space. He’d given her the benefit of the doubt so far because of her fear for Gabriel, but enough was enough. “Remember, Jez, I’m older and stronger than you. As long as I’m acting Master of Baltimore, you’ll do as I say.”

  Jez glared at him fiercely, baring her fangs. “Don’t try to bully me, Drake.”

  He laughed humorlessly. “I’m not trying to bully you. I am bullying you.” If he were more like Eli, he probably could have found the perfect words to soothe her brittle nerves and get her to regard the sit­uation with her brain instead of her heart. But he didn’t have Eli’s diplomatic skills, nor did he have the effective wise-old-man image. The only way he could assert himself was through pure power, whether he liked it or not. “I might have to ‘roll over’ for the Seigneur, but I don’t have to do it for you.”

  A very unfeminine growl rose from her throat, and to his shock, she took a swing at him.

  When Jez had been in Philly, she’d had some basic martial arts training, but Drake had learned his own fighting skills in a much tougher environment and at a much younger age. Even when totally taken by sur­prise, his well-honed instincts kicked in. He dodged the blow, grabbing Jez’s wrist as her fist swung past his he
ad. Adrenaline fueled by anger flooded his sys­tem, and his fangs descended. Momentarily forget­ting his usual chivalry, he used her own momentum to shove her face-first against the wall, then pinned her there with her wrist behind her back. She tried to stomp on his foot, but he dodged that, too, and pushed her wrist up until she cried out in pain.

  That small cry dragged him back from the brink of mindless fury, but he didn’t let up on the pressure. This was for her own good, after all. If she attacked one of the Seigneur’s vampires, she could end up dead.

  “If you have a problem with my decision making,” he snarled in her ear, “take it up with Gabriel when we get him back. But until then, you’ll do as I tell you.”

  “He’ll kill you for this,” she hissed, her teeth still clenched in pain.

  Drake eased up on the pressure a bit. “Not if I keep you safe, he won’t.” Gabriel’s leadership style wasn’t exactly of the warm and fuzzy variety, and he would understand why Drake had to take a hard line. All three of his Guardians were young and volatile, inexperienced at controlling the natural aggression that came with being a vampire. Stress would weaken their impulse control even more than usual, and Drake had to make a strong impression.

  Absorbed in his battle with Jez, Drake didn’t real­ize he had an audience until she finally capitulated and he let go.

  Eric and Harry stood at the base of the stairs to the third floor, watching him with wide eyes. Something twisted inside his gut. He knew that wary, guarded look, the look of frightened followers. He cursed un­der his breath.

  Once upon a time, long ago, he’d wielded his strength as a weapon. He’d struck terror into the hearts of his enemies, and even his allies had feared him. It was a past he’d-given up when he’d teamed up with Eli, and he’d barely allowed himself to think about it for over a century. Now the past seemed to be sneaking up on him again. He touched the pocket where the crumpled piece of paper lay, the insidious invitation echoing through his head.

  Call me, said his maker’s voice, the voice of temp­tation. All is forgiven, it seemed to say.

  He shook his head violently. It didn’t matter what Padraig had to say. Even if the note really was from Drake’s maker, and not some construct of Brigitte’s schemes. Drake had left behind the man he had once been. And even a momentary burst of violence wouldn’t bring Johnnie Drake back to life.