Born Of Night

Chapter Nine

“What do you want with me?” Jessica demanded, glancing around surreptitiously for a weapon. The room they were standing in was perhaps twelve foot squared.

The walls floor, even the ceiling seemed to be made of stone. A single door was set into one wall, but the man stood between her and that avenue of escape. The only possibility she could see was a tall candelabra holding a couple of flickering tapers almost within reach.

A faint smile touched the vampire’s bloodless lips. “Why, to eat you, my dear.”

“Very funny,” she said. “Ha ha.”

He showed her his fangs. Jessica felt her heart stand still. “My, what big teeth you have.”

Mordecai smiled thinly. “The better to drink your blood,” he responded wearily, beginning to feel some annoyance at her flippant responses.

“I don’t think so,” she said and leapt toward the candelabra, grabbing it. She discovered she couldn’t lift it.

“It’s bolted to the floor,” Mordecai said dryly.

Not to be outdone, Jessica grabbed the tapers and threw them at him. He raised an arm to shield himself. Once she’d distracted him, she dashed past and threw open the door. Beyond lay utter blackness. She ran down the smotheringly dark corridor, blindly feeling the walls for guidance. Her breath, rasping in and out of her lungs in fear, deafened her to pursuit, but she thought she detected little whispers of sound, like the tiny scurrying feet of rats.

The corridor ended abruptly in what seemed to be a far larger room than the one she had left behind. She couldn’t know that for certain, but she sensed a vast emptiness and damp currents of air swirled through the room.

She paused, catching her breath, trying to listen for any sounds of pursuit. She wasn’t really comforted when she could hear nothing. After a moment, she began fumbling her way through the room, feeling the walls, searching for a door. Her heart leapt when she found one at last. Excitement flooded her when the knob turned under her hand. It was dashed in the next moment when she opened the door and discovered only another corridor--this one lit by a single, flickering torch.

Glancing uneasily behind her, she discovered that the room she had just traversed was filled with coffins.

The hair stood on the back of her neck. Jessica shuddered and strode down the corridor, her shadow casting long before her, melding into the darkness that swarmed the sides of the hall. The corridor turned in a sharp corner and ended with another door, leading into another small, empty room. On one end, heavy velvet drapes covered an opening. Faintly, Jessica could see light filtering through the curtains. Certain that she had discovered a window and the means of escape, she rushed to it, throwing the curtains aside. To her dismay, she discovered the drapes concealed another open doorway.

She was seized by two men the moment the curtains parted. Jessica struggled to free herself, but their hands were as unyielding as manacles around her arms. They dragged her deeper into the room, past huge candelabras filled with lighted tapers.

Ahead of her, she saw a stone throne on a dais. Mordecai was seated on the throne.

He did not look happy.

“Let me go!” she screamed, lifting her feet from the ground, trying to break their hold. They led her inevitably to the dais, unfazed by her continual struggles. They stopped, releasing her to her own feet and stepping back just enough to quash any ideas she’d have of making a run for it.

“What do you want with me?” she asked him again. He’d deliberately allowed her to escape, only for the pleasure of capturing her again--and tormenting.

Mordecai tapped his fingers on the arm of the throne in impatience. “You are not as valuable to me as you seem to think.”

Jessica swallowed. If anything, her situation was worse than she originally thought.

“Then why keep me here?”

The vampire stood, slowly taking a step down and then another, until he was inches from her. “Bait. I seek your Lycan lover ... and others should they be foolish enough to come.”

“He’s dead,” she said, feeling sick with the words. Her mouth felt tainted uttering them. Her heart pinched painfully. “You’re too late.”

“On the contrary. He is coming for you.”

Oh god, no! She would be his downfall. Everything that had happened to them--him--had been because of her. Gabriel would come, and he would die trying to save her.

Mordecai’s hand snaked out and snatched the necklace from her neck. He held the large medallion in his palm. His eyes glittered. “What is this?”

“Protection from werewolves,” she said weakly. What she’d needed was protection from vampires too. She thought wistfully of Mikel’s, brimming with weapons for fighting the undead.

“A useless trinket.” He chuckled, throwing the medallion away. It skittered on the floor and vanished from sight. He caught her with one arm, forcing her against his body, digging his free hand through her hair to grip her scalp. Jessica gasped and tried to fight him, wincing as he discovered the wound she’d sustained earlier. His grip on her hair tightened, forcing her to arch her head deeply to the side.

The blood rushed to her head, pounding with the frightening knowledge of what he was going to do. And there was nothing she could do to stop him. She closed her eyes and screamed when the fangs ravaged her flesh.

Gabriel knew before the night was out, many Lycan would die. He regretted it, regretted the necessity of this action, but there was no other choice. If they did not take a stand now, they would be wiped out in their entirety--as a whole at once, or one by one.

By the next evening, when the moon climbed high in the sky like a warped pearl, they were ready.

Some drove to the meeting place, others walked, but all told, over two dozen showed up at Vieux Carre for the showdown. The streets were strangely empty, as though the people sensed something massive was going down.

Their excitement infected the air, crackled between them, connecting them with a hidden energy.

Gabriel led the pack. His rage had not abated in the many hours since first hearing of her abduction. He seethed with fury, angered at himself and them for their daring, so much so that he feared he would be no help to Jessica whatsoever.

They traversed a narrow, dirty alley, keeping watch above for ambush as they made their way to the back of the building. The entrance to the underground was there.

There was a garden in the back, with a fountain as centerpiece, spraying water with a soft gurgle of sound. It appeared tranquil, like the home of some wealthy, upstanding citizen, surrounding by other upstanding neighbors.

Gabriel wondered just how many knew what atrocities went on in the townhouse before them.

A vamp at the back entrance motioned them forward, holding the door open for them. They left a few men behind for backup to go for help should they need it, not that he expected there would be a need. They lived or died, there would be no second chances.

The vamp let them in without question. Had Gabriel been in any doubt it was a trap, his suspicions were now confirmed. He knew better than to expect them to keep their word--not with the way things had progressed in the past few months. Either the vampire force far exceeded their own ... or they were foolishly confident and on equal footing.

Another vamp waited inside, leading them down corridors into the belly of the earth.

He did not bind their eyes or dowse the lights.

The vampires didn’t expect the Lycans to leave.

He caught the faint scent of old blood. For decades, victims had been lured to the Devil’s Belly, never to see light again. The cold stone was oppressive. The stink of vampires permeated the walls, like the dried husks of roses--a sickly sweet stench, unnoticeable by any but the most sensitive.

They were led through labyrinthine corridors of reinforced stone, finally to a throne room, barren of anything save candelabras filled with glowing candles, a raised throne, and vampires. Dozens of vampires.

Gabriel stopped in the middle of the room, his men fanning out behind him, facing the man seated on the throne. “Where is Danior?”

Mordecai smiled thinly. “I killed him. I am master of this city now.”

It explained why the incidents had steadily worsened.

“I’ve come to trade myself for d’woman. Where is she?”

Mordecai inclined his head, and two vamps pushed through a curtained doorway, dragging Jessica between them. Her head hung down to her chest. She was unconscious. The front of her dress was stained with blood.

“I have marked her,” Mordecai remarked, standing.

His vision turned red. Mordecai had fed on her. A violent urge to tear the man apart surged in his veins. “She can’ be turned. She’s one of us.”

“As delicious, as well. Take her back,” he said, gesturing toward the men.

Gabriel stepped forward, growling. “Danior kept his word.”

Mordecai’s eyes glittered dangerously. “I am not Danior.”

He didn’t have to look to know the vampire’s ranks were on the move, closing in.

He tried to block thoughts of Jessica from his mind, worries that she was still alive.

Mordecai grinned, showing his fangs. “I ordered in tonight. Tonight, we feast on Lycan.”

Gabriel unleashed the beast with a furious howl, answered by his brethren in chorus.

They launched at their enemies, ripping clothes, human flesh replaced with fur and fangs and razored claws.

Mordecai launched himself from the dais, straight for Gabriel.

Something called Jessica, reached into the corners of her mind with urgent fingers.

Howls filled the air, a haunting chorus of bloodlust answered in her soul. She sank deeper into the darkness, blinded, pain scalding her muscles. The pain was everywhere, on her skin, in her bones, spurred on by the incessant howls. Molten oil coated her like tar, oozing over her flesh, sticking to her skin, burning a path over her body.

She screamed, clawed at herself, but she was frozen, unable to move. The pain changed suddenly, mellowed. Ripples of energy rubbed inside her, spreading like tingling waves of ecstasy. Her body jerked involuntarily, seized with rolling, mingling agony and bliss. Senses that could only have been dead before came alive, so clear and sharp, they stabbed her brain with piercing clarity. She smelled blood, buried in the walls, fresh from cut veins; damp stone and flowing water; the burning of candle wax and wick; fear and sweat.... Her ears prickled with thousands of sounds, with grunts and groans; the rip of flesh; the splatter of blood; teeth gnashing; moans of pain.

A canine cry pierced the cacophony, sending instant alarm racing through her heart.

It broke off abruptly. Her eyes flew open.

Gabriel. He needed her, needed her help. Jessica rolled off her back onto her hands and knees.

Something ... was ... wrong.

Her hands were no longer there.

Jessica could not tear her eyes away. Fabric pooled around her feet, her torn and bloody dress and a satin robe. She flexed her fingers, watching the claws distend and retract from the blunted tips. The sounds of fighting faded, drowned out by the roar of blood in her ears.

Fur coated her arm, supple black dusted silver that extended up as far as she could see. Her hands were no longer hands--they were paws.

She’d become a wolf.

The realization exhilarated her. She stretched, feeling power move through her limbs. Everything Gabriel had told her was true. She was Lycan born, of his people.

A savage growl caught her, drawing her attention to Gabriel. He fought the man who

’d bitten her, Mordecai.

Part wolf, part man, shadowed by black hair--she knew it was Gabriel, felt it by some heightened, inner sense that connected her to him.

They were locked together, tearing at each other with their hands. The vampire had changed somehow, grown until he dwarfed Gabriel. Her heart leapt in her throat as Gabriel was forced down to his knees. He arched his back, groaning in pain and fury. Mordecai kicked him, sending him sprawling on the floor.

Jessica yelped, a canine cry--her voice gone. Mordecai’s head snapped up the instant she called. He turned toward her and smiled, red rivulets streaming down his face and hands.

In a lightning fast move, he rushed her. Before he could reach her, Gabriel raised from the floor and grabbed him, pulling him abruptly back in a flip with sheer strength. Mordecai screamed and whirled in the air, landing on the ground, Gabriel atop him, his hand poised to rip the vampire’s heart from his chest.

“I yield!” Mordecai yelled, holding his hands up to defend himself from Gabriel’s claws.

Gabriel regarded him warily a long moment, still caught in the blood lust of his beast, torn between the urge of the beast within and the human side that told him truce had been offered and must be respected. Finally, he stood, releasing the vamp leader. The others had ceased their battles, as well, at Mordecai’s words. The room was still, waiting.

Gabriel turned and faced them, gazing around at the carnage. They had lost two of their brethren, but decimated the vamps by more than half. A sense of triumph raced through his blood, quickening the beast. It was the beast that warned him, that sensed that Mordecai had risen behind him, warning of the threat inherent in turning his back on any vamp, particularly one who’d shown he could not be counted upon to keep his word.

Too late, the subtle change in the air warned him of the vamp’s underhanded ruse.

Even as he turned to meet the death strike of the vamp, he heard the call of his mate.

Jessica leapt through the air, driving her claws deep, ripping Modecai’s heart from his chest with her claws, shredding it before she’d even landed on the ground.

With a thought, she shifted back into human form and faced Gabriel. Gabriel gave her an appreciative look, glanced at Mordecai’s lifeless body, and then looked back at her with a frown.

“That was no’ honorable, cherie. The vamp had called a truce.”

Jessica shrugged. “I’m a woman. I’ve no use for honor when it comes to dealing with the likes of him. Besides, he would’ve killed me and you both if given the chance.”

He held out his hand. She glanced at it, but shook her head slightly, smiling faintly.

Returning to the place where she’d been held, she scooped up the abandoned robe, covering herself. This time when Gabriel, who’d followed her curiously, offered his hand, she took it.

Unhindered, they left that place of death, leaving the remaining Lycans to watch over the surviving vampires. Deron would come and arrange terms with the survivors.

By uniting at last to face the threat, the Lycan had ensured that the war that had raged in New Orleans for one hundred years was finally over.