The Hunt

Vivian



"Bad Moon Rising" pounds out of the sound system and a few of the werewolves gyrate on the parquet wood floor in wanton abandon. The party seems to encase all three levels of the vaulted foyer. Supernatural guests lean over the railings, whooping loudly and gesticulating wildly, while others, human included, try their best to slide down the dual curving banisters in a drunken race to the next landing.



Lori's arm rests in a sling but she still manages to entice Eric and Pat into a three-person hip grind amongst the other dancers. Romeo and Elsa dance together, oblivious of anyone else. Spike, whom I don't recall speaking to this whole trip, leans near the front door and sees me surveying the crowd. He raises his glass slightly and tilts his head in acknowledgement.



This party has a different feel to it than the one after Ivan was killed. That day, fear gripped us all and electricity was still down on some parts of the resort. The roaring bonfire on the front drive seemed surreal and the stench of burning flesh filled the lobby for days after.



I'm glad nothing like that is happening tonight. The free drinks and music have loosened everyone up and I think even the most stalwart participants this week, like Stan, will go away happy they came and tried their skills against Emiko.



Across the lobby, near the fireplace, the remaining vampire hunters-Liam, Jet, Donald and Stan-crowd around Stephen, pumping him for information on his "kill". His face is alight with sharing every "remembered" detail.



Back by the windmills, I had no choice but to take control of Coraline's mind. The entire plan fell apart in a matter of seconds, requiring me to act quickly. It was a simple matter to replace her memories to make her think Stephen, and not Asa, carved out her heart. Erasing traces of the end, when the gunfire shattered my control, was an easy task. Rafe's idea of inserting the knowledge she lost her charmed broach at one of their refueling spots on the way up, will buy us some time when she gets back to Argentina, but not much.



I couldn't delve too deeply in her mind; it risked having her become consciously aware of my actions-like possibly leaving gaping holes in her memories or a sense that something was "off". I know there are other members involved in the witch-hunt against me, but I'm still not sure who.



We ran into Stephen, wandering near the bowling alley, half-frozen, and unsure of exactly when he last ventured to the main building to warm up. I slipped into his head and planted memories of a long, noble sword fight before Rafe threw blood on the vampire and roughed him up a bit. Mesmerized and still under my control, Cora stood to the side, unaware of the proceedings. By the time we got back to the hotel, she was clapping Stephen on the back and congratulating him on the kill.



It actually turned out better we used one of the hunters instead of Asa. I'd seen in Cora's mind how that previous detail sent alarm bells off in her head.



Rafe comes in to sit with me at small table in the dining room. His smile is warm and affectionate, with the added bonus of some lingering lusty heat simmering in his eyes. It'll be nice to curl up in his arms when the Tribunal vampires leave and we can pretend, at least for a little while, there is no danger waiting for us.



The chef, Stephanie, is on duty and she bustles over to our table with a fresh carafe of Rafe's favorite coffee. "More?" she says to me, indicating my empty mug.



"Yes, please." I raise my mug and our fingers touch as she steadies the ceramic while pouring. A flash of her tampering with Paul's spices fills my mind. She smiles at me before placing the carafe on the table, and then heads back to the kitchen.



"Damn," I say when she's out of earshot.



"What?"



"Stephanie is the reason Paul's cooking has sucked since he turned."



"Really?"



"Yeah, she's feeling a little guilty and I saw her actions in her surface thoughts when we touched. She was angling to take his job and figured if he couldn't taste the spices or food he was preparing he wouldn't know his personal collection was compromised."



"Pink slip?" Rafe asks, always ready to do the difficult jobs when required.



"Nah. How about I talk with her," I say with a wiggle of my eyebrows, "and we see how things go?"



He nods, eyes trailing over the guests in the lobby.



Wrapping my hands around my warm mug, I take a small sip of black coffee. The familiar aroma relaxes me in the midst of the vibrant party energy.



Rafe sets his empty cup on the wood surface and pours more from the fresh pot. "Asa stressed several times during our call that Drew claims he never saw Paul," he says, low voice not reaching far. "Almost like he appeared out of nowhere."



"I heard him."



"So are we going to talk about it?"



A sigh escapes me as I place my coffee next to his. "It's still too soon to tell. Paul could be like Antonio, able to wrap small glamours around himself."



"Are you sure?"



"No," I say, while meeting his concerned, bright-blue gaze. "He could be a 'child' of my bloodline."



"What are the chances?"



"I've turned dozens over the centuries. He'd be my first true descendant."



Rafe stares past me, into the twinkling peacefulness of the quiet hot tub grotto beyond the window. "How long until your true powers started to emerge?"



"A few years. But it took me two decades 'til I was strong enough to overcome the whole seethe."



Pain fills my husband's expression. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help you when you needed it."



A smile softens my face. "I'm not." At his look of confusion, I add, "You'd be dead. They used everyone I loved to control me." My voice trails off to a whisper, "Until I finally had to set us free." Rafe reaches across the table and grabs my hand, squeezing it hard.



He knows I was alone when I left the burning barn five centuries ago. He understands why I had to kill the man I loved, to free him from torture... and to release myself from the unending tyranny and abuse I endured under my master to keep my lover alive.



A vampiric presence enters the dining room and we both turn to see Asa exiting our suite through the steel door. "How's Paul?" I call out.



"Better. The vomiting has stopped." He pulls out one of the chairs near us and sits. "I think." He shakes his head while pouring a cup of coffee. "Strange things happening today, huh?"



I look at Rafe and grin. I'm guessing this is the young man's segue way into asking about what he witnessed in the clearing. "Yup," I answer, enjoying his awkwardness.



Asa takes a gulp of brew and grimaces. "Ugh, why bother to drink it if it's not mixed with blood? Shit's nasty." He wipes his mouth on a napkin. "And to think I used to love the stuff."



Rafe leans on the back legs of his chair and grabs a carafe off the table behind him. "Here, this one might be more to your liking."



The young vampire mixes some of the blood coffee into his mug and stares down at the table. "Are we going to have a debriefing to discuss the... er... umm... new ending?"



Laughter bubbles up and out, from both Rafe and me. "What?" I say. "You have questions regarding my handling of the situation?"



"No! No. I meant... well... what really happened back there? How did you control Coraline like she was a human?"



I smile and pat him on the forearm. "Let's talk about it tomorrow, everyone at once. Okay?"



Tension pours out of the young man and he visibly relaxes, "Yeah, that sounds great." He clears his throat and rubs a hand over his stubble-covered head. "Jon mentioned something about this summer. Maybe opening the resort up to Weres?"



"We've been talking about it," Rafe says.



"I'd like to stay here during that time," Asa says. "If I may."



I lean in and look him dead in the eye, "You realize you can't go outdoors, and coming up on the main level of the inn could be dangerous, too, right?"



"Yeah, I know. Thought I could get from place to place via those escape tunnels you designed." At my not-so-happy look he hastily adds, "Uh... if there was a need."



I look to Rafe, who nods. "I think it's a distinct possibility." The young vamp breaks into a smile and looks across the lobby to where his brother and Pat dance with Lori. "There'd be rules, of course." His head bobs up and down; eager to concur with anything I say to get what he wants.



"You want to tell him the other good news, or should I?" Rafe smiles now, happy to have something terrific to share after this exhausting week.



"Go for it."



"What?" Asa asks. We're beaming, happy with the new development, and he starts to look annoyed. "Don't leave me hanging here."



"We had a talk with Romeo and Elsa while you guys were at the airport."



"So?"



"They've agreed to leave Eric and Pat here in Jon's care, for them to become a part of his pack-if Jon agrees."



Asa's whoop of joy draws a few glances our way. He leaps from the chair and knocks mine back an inch or so in his haste to hug me. Muscular arms wrap around me and squeeze tight. "Thank you, Vivian! You have no idea what this means to me." My arms are pinned to my side so I halfheartedly pat his side in response.



Once the young vampire catches himself in his uncharacteristic show of affection, he releases me and the moment is over as quickly as it occurred. "Why don't you go share the news with Eric and Pat?" I offer. He moves around the table, without a backward glance, purpose in his step and excitement radiating off him. As he heads into the lobby, I lift a thought from his mind. I call behind him, "Just be sure to mix the Jager with some blood or you'll feel like crap tomorrow!"



"That's a good thing you did, babe," Rafe whispers, leaning over the table to kiss me. I shrug, uncomfortable accepting the kudos for what is ultimately a sound decision toward Jon's happiness with having a pack of his own.



Raucous shouting from the young men and intense shoving proceeds. The three run up the two winding flights to the bar in a mad dash, chanting "Jager" every few steps. Soon the whole lobby clears out, following the exuberant trio.



In a moment, it's almost peaceful in here, that is, if you don't mind the blaring music.



Rafe takes my hand in his and plants a soft kiss on my fingertips. "Now what do you want to do about Cora and her cronies?"



God, you would have to mention her and kill my buzz of happiness. Last I heard, she was upstairs in the Roman bath with one of her hooded guards. I slip a foot out of one backless shoe and run my toes up the side of my husband's leg.



"That's not what I meant and you know it." He drops a hand under the table to cup my foot, drawing it closer to his crotch. "When do we leave?"



I'm not surprised Rafe would assume the next logical step. I smile, thankful I have my very own Wolf Killer by my side no matter what the future holds. "We beard the lion in his den before he has a chance to come after us." I rise, pulling my foot from his grasp, and stretch, pressing my breasts against my shirt and drawing my husband's hungry eye. "This time, we'll be the ones hunting big game."