An Unwanted Hunger (4 page)

Chapter Five

Everyone stood when Constantine entered the room. Twenty-seven heads bowed in respect as he strode through the room to take his place at the head of the massive conference table.

Once he was seated, his consul, Madron, addressed him. “Your Majesty, there are matters of grave importance that require your attention. We have received word that Leonidas’ encampment in Madagascar was attacked by the Alliance. Thirty were killed and a dozen taken prisoner.”

Constantine’s eyes narrowed at the news. Leonidas, the exiled Heir and firstborn son of the Praetor of Nuria, the desert world of V’Kar, was not an ally to the D’Harahn. But the idea of the Alliance killing any of the V’Kar on this planet filled Constantine with a cold anger.

“Why take them prisoner?”

Madron looked to a man across the table. Dark of hair but older than most of the assembly, Azarth was the leading scientific authority of the D’Harahn. He’d volunteered to go into exile on Earth when the Emperor decreed that his firstborn son would suffer exile as a demonstration of the Emperor’s determination to end the war between the worlds of V’Kar and discover a solution to the plague that threatened their entire star system.

A select few knew that imperial edict had far more to do with the Emperor’s fear than making peace. He and his contemporaries, the leaders of the other two worlds, had held power for a long time. It was well known that the people favored their Heirs, looked upon them as new hope for peace and finding a solution to the problems that threatened the lives of all their people. Perhaps they could succeed where their fathers had failed.

But the Emperor would not allow his power to be usurped, not even by the Crown Prince. Sending the Heirs of the three worlds into exile was a means of protecting himself, while outwardly appearing to the people as a sacrifice. He was so eager to end the war between the worlds that he would remove those who promoted it, even if it meant sending his beloved son into exile.

“It has long been known that the Alliance seeks a means of accessing the abilities the races of V’Kar possess. They have recently recruited new minds to their cause, men and women who profess to be able to unravel the genetic code and replicate it in humans.”

“And your stance on such claims?” Constantine asked.

“They will fail.”

Constantine considered the news for a moment. “Leonidas’ reaction to the attack?”

Madron referred to another man farther down the table. Gaius, general of Constantine’s security force on Earth. “According to latest intelligence, his people are poised to move on a stronghold of the Alliance within days. A remote but strategically important fortification in the Bavarian Alps.”

Constantine nodded. “And what of the priest? Any word from him?”

Madron nodded. “A communiqué was received this morning, disavowing any knowledge of the impending attack and offering assistance to the Nurians in terms of resources, not manpower.”

“Ever the peace seeker,” Constantine commented and earned more than one chuckle from the assembly. Octavian Vazanti, successor to the throne of Ishban Shamurz Burahn, the Monarch of Valia, was not a warrior the likes of Leonidas. His people favored battles fought with subterfuge and intrigue, but they were every bit as deadly as the Nurians.

As High Priest and sole male member of the Order of the Sisterhood, the Sybelle De’Fane V’Kar, Octavian wielded much power and posed a considerable threat to all of the D’Harahn. While Constantine’s people and the Nurians might make scornful comments on the virility and battle skills of the Valians, all secretly feared the stealthy Valians and their leader here on earth, Octavian Vazanti.

“Finally…” Madron turned Constantine from private thoughts. “There is the matter of the Dhampir.”

More than one person held their breath as Constantine turned his eyes on Madron, the dangerous glitter making Madron blanch.

“There is no matter to be discussed,” Constantine announced, trying to stem the sudden pang of need that lanced through him at the mention of her name. Even now, separated by numerous walls, he could feel her like a fire in his veins. “Resa Vânător is under my protection.”

“Forgive me, Sire, but is that wise?” Madron asked. “How many of us has she killed or tried to kill? She’s one of the foremost hunters of the Alliance and to take her into our midst—”

“She risked her life to save mine,” Constantine cut him off. “Killed her own to save me. Do you suggest that I should reward such an act of courage and sacrifice with deception or death? Do you dare suggest that I dishonor one who has sacrificed all that I might live?”

Madron looked away, seeking support from the others at the table. But no voice was raised. Constantine looked around at the assembly. “Resa Vânător is, as you have stated, one of the most skilled of the hunters of the Alliance. And having been trained by Bram himself possesses much knowledge of our enemy. Turning her, gaining her loyalty would be of enormous benefit to us in defeating this age-old enemy.”

Azarth spoke up. “I must add a word here. According to the genetic tests I’ve conducted, Resa Vânător is also unique among the Dhampir. Her genetic code not only proves that she carries the blood of the D’Harahn, but she carries a Vox Narr within her.”

“How is that possible?” Madron asked.

“A question I am waiting to hear answered,” Constantine added.

“I have no answer,” Azarth replied. “What human code she possesses is diluted and small in comparison to her V’Karian makeup. She could hold an important part of the puzzle we’ve been trying to piece together for a millennium. I’ve never encountered a mutant bearing the Vox Narr.”

There was a moment of silence. Constantine knew the news would unnerve as well as intrigue everyone assembled. It was unprecedented. And something Azarth and the scientific minds beneath him were eager to study.

“You think she holds the key to our infertility problems?” a woman across from him asked.

“Possibly,” Azarth replied. “And that above all is paramount to the survival of all V’Kar. If there is a way to breed with humans and produce beings with dominant D’Harahn genetic codes that can host the Vox Narr, then there may be a possibility of altering that code to erase the human portions. And if we can do that, we can then create a new race of breeders and repopulate our world. Unless,” he paused and looked around, “you’d prefer that we relegate ourselves to breeding with humans and diluting what we are forever.”

A chorus rose at the comment. No one of V’Kar wanted to lose what made them unique in the Universe. Their inability to reproduce had plagued them for longer than humans had walked their world, and they were still unable to find a remedy. If there was a chance, any chance that Resa held a key then her value to all of them was increased exponentially.

Constantine stood, his hands on the glossy surface of the table. “Azarth speaks true. We need her. So hear me and hear me well. Any hand that is raised against her will incur my wrath. She will be treated as an honored guest.”

Azarth gestured to get his attention and Constantine nodded in his direction. “It is vital that we know if a Dhampir can be successfully impregnated.”

Constantine felt a chill wash over him and spoke before Azarth could say more. “Then,” he said with a sly smile, “I shall put that to the test.”

There was laughter. Everyone assumed he would take Resa as they had all taken human females. Mesmerized them, coupled with them, taken life force from them and left them, moving on to another, caring not if a seed was planted.

Constantine chuckled with them then sobered. “She bears information we need and will have. She is under my protection. When the time comes that I am confident of her loyalty, she will be welcomed into our midst as one of us.”

He did not wait for agreement. He would be obeyed. Pushing aside thoughts of enemies, plots and strategies, he hurried toward his bedchamber.

* * * * *

Resa’s sleep was troubled. She could feel Bram reaching out mentally for her, trying to find her. The part of her that had been a child at his feet, hanging on his every word and idolizing him, wanted to reach out to him. But the woman who’d been betrayed fought the child within, erecting a barrier of darkness, shielding herself from his questing mind.

She tossed and turned, coming out of sleep feeling angry and out of sorts. In the kind of mood that could only be dispelled by one of two things. Battle or sex.

As if in answer to her thought the door opened. Constantine stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Something in the way he moved, the tension in his body and hard glint in his eyes, made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and her nipples tighten.

He stalked over to the bed, stripping off his silk jacket and tossing it carelessly to the floor. “You should be sleeping.”

“I’m not sleepy,” she replied as casually as possible considering the tension pouring off him in waves and the hot need that burned inside her.

His brow furrowed and suddenly it dawned on her. He’d used his ability to make her sleep. “Oh I get it. I shouldn’t have been able to overcome your sleep suggestion? Sorry, I guess the Vamp—oops, D’Harahn powers aren’t one hundred percent effective on me.”

His jaw tightened at the taunt but he smiled coldly. “We have unfinished business, Dhampir.”

Annoyance flared at the scorn he placed in the word. “Careful, Vampyre. As your own people said, we’re more alike than not.”

“You enjoy inciting anger, don’t you, huntress?” He reached out and grabbed her by the hair, hauling her to her knees on the bed.

She paid no mind to the sheets sliding down her body, revealing her nudity. Her rage broke through the surface, fueling her with energy. “Hands off!” She grabbed his wrist, digging her fingertips into the vulnerable pressure points hard enough to break his grip, and rolling away to come to a standing position on the opposite side of the bed as he made another grab for her.

“As I told you, there’s a price for knowledge,” he said in a voice that was a heady mixture of seduction and danger.

“And as I recall, I saved your hide, so I’d say I’m paid in full,” she taunted. “So why don’t we get back to where you left off in your story before we were interrupted.”

He started around the bed toward her, his steps smooth and sure, like a great cat on the prowl, stalking its prey. “I think not. First you submit then you learn the truths you seek.”

Resa despised the burst of hunger his words precipitated inside her. Hated the way she longed to give in to him, submit to whatever he wanted from her. She did not submit. To anyone. No matter how much she might want it. It just wasn’t in her nature.

“Sorry, baby,” she crooned in a seductive tone, watching him move around the corner of the bed. “Submission isn’t my style.”

“You lie,” he said with a knowing smile. “You long for it, Resa. Even now your body burns for it. See how your nipples pucker with anticipation and your sex weeps?”

She snorted and dove across the bed as he suddenly lunged at her. “Like I said, submission isn’t my style.”

Constantine growled. Actually growled as she backed away from the bed. He leapt across it as easily as a child playing hopscotch, landing lightly on his feet in front of her. “Then perhaps it is time you were taught a new style.”

She laughed in his face, thrilling to the danger that shimmered around him. “You think you’re man enough? Then bring it on.”

One quick hiss was all the warning she received before he attacked, the back of his hand impacting the side of her face hard enough to send her reeling sideways.

She recovered faster than he anticipated, based on the surprised look in his eyes when she came at him, pivoting into a kick that caught him dead center of his chest.

It had less effect than she would have wanted, but it did force him to take a step back. He grinned and for a moment she felt a shimmer of fear. Suddenly his eye teeth were elongated, like the canines of a great wolf, and his eyes shone with an unearthly red hue as if awash with diluted blood.

“Nice try,” she panted out the words between blows. “But I can do that too.”

She grinned at him, knowing he’d see the same sharp teeth and red eyes he’d tried to intimidate her with. It was an ability she’d received more than one beating for displaying as a child. Bram had warned her that any resemblance to the Vampyres had to be suppressed or the Alliance might have cause to fear and mistrust her.

Constantine didn’t seem particularly surprised. He grinned and came at her. She laughed in the delight of battle, a wild sound that had nothing to do with humor and everything to do with passion and hunger, kinetic energy that had to be released or destroy her.

Here was the beast she knew, one like all the others she’d tracked and battled. Now she was in her element. Furniture was knocked over and broken, window shattered and priceless
objets d’art
obliterated. Around the room they fought, their breath coming hard and fast, sweat making her body slick and his clothing cling to him.

Time went unnoticed. All that existed for her was the fight. She’d never met an opponent so strong or so skilled. Most of her attacks were outmaneuvered, her blows absorbed. But still she pressed, forcing him to defend against her unending assault.

On and on they battled until finally he slammed her against a wall, pinning her hands over her head, his legs securely between hers so that his erection ground against her wet sex through the damp fabric of his slacks.

“You can’t win,” he breathed in her face.

“Neither can you,” she gasped and wound her legs around him, beating at the backs of his knees with her heels to try to make him fall.

“I already have,” he whispered and lowered his mouth to hers, pressing that hard mass of maleness against her sex and shattering what little control was left to her.

With a groan deep in her throat she worked her hand between their bodies and into his pants to fist him.

Constantine continued his assault on her mouth but released her hands to unfasten his pants. They pooled around his ankles, leaving him bare and hot against her sex.