In the Beginning... (2 page)

“Why don’t you let her say goodbye to her
cousin here? Might prove interesting, since they are so concerned
with each other’s welfare.”

Tears were in green eyes as Rydere looked at
both women. The one, Cormac’s blonde, could not understand the
language they used; her deafness prevented that. But the heir could
hear them. Which would be worse? “No. I’ll keep her as she is. It’s
less cruel that way.”

“Compassion for the enemy? How many battles
have you fought in again?”

Rydere knew they both remembered the fights
at each other’s sides. They numbered too many to count. Not only
had they fought in the American wars, but the wars between their
peoples and the different Kinds that existed, and had for
centuries. “The enemies in this case are just young women who had
the misfortune to be related to Taniss. It has to be done, I agree.
But why should we make their suffering worse?”

“Because of the way our people have suffered
at Taniss’s hands.” Cormac pulled the blonde’s bound hands over one
arm then bent, putting his shoulder in her abdomen and standing.
She whimpered, but did not try to pull away. “I’ll deal with the
dog in the morning. Can you have Jambu take her to his room for
now?”

“Of course. And, Cormac...be compassionate.
Remember how young that human is. Imagine if it was your niece in
her position.”

****

After the other man left, Rydere did free her
from the confines he’d placed on her body and mind. He kept the
blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

She threw it off and jumped to her feet,
though the after-effects of his command had her unsteady. She
wobbled and he reached out for her. She backed away. “Who are
you?”

“Silence.” Rydere stalked her, his blood
filling with the adrenaline that every master hunter understood.
Her scent was strong to him, flowers and fear. And a sweetness he
couldn’t yet identify. But he would.

“Where did he take Josey? Why did you do this
to us?” Her rapid questions were panic-filled though he could tell
she was used to being answered. Much like he was.

“Easy. I’m hungry.” Her hair had partially
fallen from the pins holding it, the brown strands longer, more
alluringly feminine then he had expected. It must have been her
shampoo—that sweetness he smelled.

“So order a pizza! What does that have to do
with me, or Josey?” She’d backed herself into the corner, and her
hands came up. Rydere smirked—as if a small dove could protect
itself from a hawk. He captured them in his.

“Vengeance is far tastier than pizza.” He
breathed deep, still trying to identify that sweetness. What was
it? And why did it call him so strongly?

“You’re crazy!” She tried pulling her hands
free but Rydere held on.

“Taniss Industries must pay for their sins.
You and your cousins, you are Taniss, especially you. Therefore you
will pay for the sins of your grandfather.” Maybe it wasn’t her
shampoo, he thought as he pulled a strand of that hair toward his
face. Sniffed. Maybe it was something she’d used on her skin?

“My cousins? Not just Josey?” Absolute terror
was now in her eyes, the tremors shaking her tripled. She pushed at
his chest with hands that were small, weak, ineffective. “Who else?
Who else, dammit!”

“All that you were with in that car.” It
mattered not to him what happened to her cousins, he was just
puzzled by how the sweetness of her had grown so much stronger.

“Because of Grandfather?”

“Because of the old bastard who has been
killing my people for years, yes.” Rydere’s hand slipped up to grab
her chin. He tilted her head back until it rested against the
wallpaper behind her, exposing her delicate neck to him despite how
hard she fought.

She was too small for him to get a good
angle. He grabbed her waist and lifted her into a better position,
ignoring her struggles. “Tilt your head back.”

She ducked her head, tried pulling away from
him. One knee lashed out, hitting him in the thigh. She screamed in
his ear then tried to bite him.

“Dammit. Stop that now!” He covered her mouth
with one hand, avoiding the pitiful attempt her tiny human teeth
made. Feminine nails scratched at his skin, aimed for his eyes.

Rydere used his upper body to pin her to the
wall. One of his legs shoved between her knees, causing the narrow
skirt to ride up obscenely. She had no avenue of escape; they both
knew that, but Rydere had to admire the fierce way she fought him.
He wanted to taste that courage, to taste that sweetness that
beckoned him. And he would.

He used more weight to subdue her, until he
could feel every gasping breath as she pulled it in, could feel the
pounding of her heart against him. His eyes stared into hers,
seeing the tears, fear, and rage growing before he lowered his
mouth to her neck.

Rydere’s teeth tore into the softest skin.
The taste of her blood exploded on his tongue. He’d found the
source of the sweetness, and it shocked him to realize she was the
cause of his intoxication. Human blood was always bitter to the
Dardaptoan, bitter but necessary. But not hers.

Some legends had told the tales of humans so
sweet they were addictive. Such rare humans had supposedly been
converted as slaves, a kind of living candy. But not in Rydere’s
lifetime. He’d not believed such legends. Until now.

She twisted. His hold on her neck tightened,
kept her skin pressed to his mouth. He took several long, hard
drags at her neck, pulling the honeyed blood from her. Her nails
raked his face, drawing Dardaptoan blood to the surface. Blood for
blood.

Gods, she tasted good.

He pulled back, needing to breathe, needing
to control himself so that he didn’t devour her before he’d had
time to savor this unexpected treat. He looked at her. Her lips
trembled as she begged him to stop, to let her go. Her voice a mere
ghost he had to strain to hear. He had to taste those lips. He
leaned toward her to do just that.

They were like the finest of sugar candies,
the kind his people had at Christmas or other special occasions.
Rydere had always been a sucker for those candies. In his six
hundred forty-six years on the earth, he’d never found anything to
compare to those sweets. Until now.

He slipped his mouth back down to her neck,
needing to prove to himself that he hadn’t imagined it. He drew in
some more of her sweetness, thrilled to realize it was true. She
was one of those sweetest humans, and he’d found her. She was his.
He stopped, looked at her again.

Her eyes had glazed and she’d stopped
fighting him. Her heart wasn’t pounding against him as it had just
minutes before. It took a moment for him to find what remained of
it.

Loss hit him. Once she was gone, he’d
experience this no longer. Triumph tried to push that loss away
when the green eyes so like her grandfather’s blinked. He’d gotten
what he’d wanted. Taniss’s heir dying beneath him, Taniss’s blood
feeding him.

It felt flat as he watched a trickle of blood
slip down her neck to stain the smoke scrap of silk she wore
beneath her jacket.

Could he go for centuries never tasting this
woman again? Would this moment seem a dream one hundred years from
now? His head lowered again as he pulled just one more taste of her
into him.

“Please...stop...” Her tears landed on his
cheek and he tasted one, its salt a contrast to her blood’s sweet.
He suckled some more, but the intensity slowed.

Her hands fell, limp, as the last of her
fight slipped out of her. He’d never be able to taste her again.
That thought stopped him, had him making a quick, determined
decision.

He stepped back, studying his victim. She
slid down the wall, her feet hitting the floor as the support of
his hands disappeared. Rydere grabbed her under her arms before she
crumbled completely.

She put up no fight and her skin had the
ashen tone of someone who’d been bled dry. Rydere ripped the dark
tunic he wore down the middle, exposing his neck and chest. He took
the knife from his belt and sliced a gash over his heart.

He’d never converted a human before, and knew
of no other Dardaptoan who’d succeeded, either. But theoretically,
it could be done; he remembered the legends of how. Blood for
blood.

He guided her mouth to his chest. Her lips
quivered against his skin, the butterfly touch sending a hot rush
to his gut. Still she did not drink.

His fingers caught a small amount of his own
blood as it dripped down his chest. He painted her lips with the
red. Still nothing happened.

He lifted her until their mouths were even,
using one knee to support her weight. He didn’t bother with a knife
this time, bringing his left wrist to his mouth and using his teeth
to prepare his flesh.

His own blood, bitter beyond bitter, coated
his teeth, his lips when he covered her mouth with his. He kissed
her before pulling back. “You will live!”

He tilted her head back as far as it would go
after pulling the pins from the mass. That freed up another inch
and he tilted her back that inch. His bleeding wrist now would lay
perfectly over her open mouth. His blood filled her mouth and some
part of her knew to swallow, knew what was required for her
survival. She swallowed.

He fed her until his head fogged from lack of
blood and her heartbeat was steady and strong beneath his fingers.
But she had yet to wake. Rydere carried her through the suite until
he reached his bedchamber. With jerky gestures he had her ruined
clothing removed and replaced with a spare white tunic.

Sleep beckoned and claimed him the instant he
fell into the bed, inches from where he’d dropped her.

It was all a dream. That was all Emily could
think as she lay underneath the warm blankets. No monster had
broken into her home and dragged her into a strange world where
darkly handsome vampires extolled revenge on her in an entirely too
erotic way.

To prove it, she would open her eyes and see
the grays and mauves that accented her master bedroom. The only
creature in her room or bed would be her one-eyed cat. That was
all.

Emily opened her eyes.

The room surrounding her was a mix of oranges
and whites so bright they burned her eyes. The bed she rested on
was monstrous, taking up half the room, and was pushed against one
wall for space. She raised one hand to rub her eyes and paused. Her
nails were broken and ragged, bloody.

Her hand rose to her neck, to the spot that
burned. A small knot was beneath her skin. It hurt to touch, and
when she pressed it anyway, a blast of heat and remembrance shot
through her.

His face was now visible in her eyes. His
scent was strong in her lungs. Her fingers curled to touch him.
Emily shot from the bed and darted into the attached bathroom. It
took seconds for her to empty the contents of her stomach.

She did not lust for that monster. It was
just another of his tricks.

The afternoon sun was visible through the
suite’s windows—and it was a hotel. Or it once was. She remembered
that from the night before.

Just like she remembered the creature saying
that her cousins had been taken, too. Had they been tortured with
whatever drug had been used on her? God, it had hurt when she’d
wakened in the night to feel as if her entire body was ripping
itself into pieces. She still felt bruised on the inside.

She’d grown up in the world of one of the
largest American pharmaceutical companies. She now ran it. He had
to have drugged her. There was no other explanation. Was he a rival
of Taniss Industries who’d gotten a sick thrill from using her as a
test subject out of some sort of revenge or even corporate
espionage? 

It took her less than ten minutes to pick the
lock on the suite door. She had to find Mal, Mickey, and Jocelyn.
Then get out of this damned place. The only way she’d be returning
was with the cops.

****

Rydere knew the moment she awoke. It was as
if a switch had been flipped in his mind, turning all of his senses
to on. He stood, dropping his paperwork to the desk.

He took the most direct route to his suites
then began to track her. He followed her scent down the long
corridor, stopping where she'd stopped. Her scent got hotter,
stronger, and he knew he was getting close. Adrenaline had his
nerves humming as he rounded the last corner.

Several of his people stood when he entered
the last room on the first level.

"Where is she?"

"Who, sir?" Jambu asked.

"She's in here." She was near, he could smell
her blood, her skin, that sweet essence that was just her. He could
also smell her fear, her hunger, her exhaustion. Rydere bared his
fangs. "All of you—out!"

Emily knew the moment he entered the room.
Her entire body went on alert; she could hear the sounds he made as
he moved around the room, tracking her. Stalking her. She tucked
herself tighter into the space behind the cabinet where she'd
hidden, but she knew that wouldn't be enough.

"Little dove, you cannot hide forever." His
words were the growl of a predator and Emily knew it. Would it be
easier to reveal herself now, or wait until he found her? And he
would find her. Anywhere she went. She trembled and her breath
stuttered when his shadow moved closer to her corner.

"There you are." He smiled at her, the fangs
in his mouth evoking chilling memories of the night before.
"Strange place to find my new pet. Jambu and Jierra, the others,
they would not have harmed you."

He reached for her and Emily had nowhere to
go. He pulled her into the light, ran one hand over the tangled
hair falling in her eyes, then lifted her into his arms. He nuzzled
her neck and she stiffened, even more terror filling her. "What
were you thinking?"