Louisiana Moon (11 page)

A man yelped. Her gaze darted left to right as she hobbled to the armoire as fast as her body allowed. As she passed the door, a piece of paper fluttered, the edges stuck between the wood.

Slipping out the note, she read,
Kris, I’m sorry I had to bring you to my home. I had some clothes delivered. I hope you find them appealing.
She crumpled the paper and tossed it to the floor. Now she knew where she was. Ryant’s lair.

The clothes inside swayed with the gust of air as she opened the armoire door. Only cocktail dresses came in sight.
Hell no
. What did he think she would do, dance and have drinks after hanky-panky? Still, she didn’t see anything else so she rummaged through the dresses. Stuffed between a few toward the back of the armoire, she found black leather pants. Bingo. Maybe her luck raised a smidge on the luck-o-meter. Now, time to find a shirt.

She disregarded a couple of pants, coming up empty on the shirt hunt. Maybe the dresses... Only one looked promising enough. Kris snagged the sparkled blue halter off the hanger.

A few satisfying tears later, she’d made a shirt, well, a halter top. Score one for her. Now footwear. She glanced at the armoire again. The only shoes in the bottom were spiked high heels. Her body should be able to handle heels right now. No choice. She couldn’t run around barefooted.

With careful movements, she slipped on the clothes and looked into the mirror. Her breasts pushed the makeshift halter higher than she intended, baring her midriff. She sucked in an aggravated breath. The attire would have to work. With no other option, she wasn’t about to wear a frilly dress to kick Ryant’s ass.

Hymns and another scream captured her attention.

Damn it, enough. She flung on the shoes and went to the door and yanked it open. Flaming torches lit a long, dark hallway. A dungeon?

She crept into the darkness. After a few feet, she stopped at an intersection. Straight or left? More wails echoed from the left. She spun toward the pitiful cries, following the ever growing chants. The audible waves propelled her down the hall as unease swarmed within her belly.

After several yards the path sloped downward. Pressure crackled in her ears as she went deeper into the abyss. Moisture from the damp air coated her skin. Up ahead, a light glowed bright, filling the mouth of a corridor. She neared an underground lobby of some sort. The worshiping grew louder, beckoning her forward.

She eased along the wet wall, slipped into a narrow cavity and went for her weapon. It wasn’t there. Shit. She forgot she’d stripped off her clothes the night before to run as a wolf. Leaving the alcove, she moved forward and went around a corner then stopped as shock reverberated through her.

Several stories of stoned archways, like the one she stood in, circled the room. Flaming torches lit the outer ring of balconies while fire licked the rock columns. The place resembled an underground coliseum, where gladiators of ancient Rome fought to the death and where Christian martyrs met their gruesome fates torn apart by lions.

Below, a sand floor stretched out like a bleak ring of death. Crimson-robed vampires circled the edges. Some human males, wearing the same crimson robes, lay on the ground while three men, naked, were on their knees before the creatures. Kris crouched low and sidled to the balcony ledge for a better view.

Eerie hums filled the room. Chanting, in a language she didn’t understand, grew louder. The crowd hushed. Silence hung heavy over the arena thick as fog. A hooded vamp glided to one of the naked men. He stepped near the bare knees of the dark-headed men and tilted his head back. The vamp’s deep voice boomed, “The Brotherhood welcomes you.”

Quick as a striking snake, he sank his fangs into the man’s neck, above the collarbone. The human screamed and thrashed. Kris cringed.
This cannot be happening.

As he lifted his head, the vampire bit his own wrist and held the fresh cut over the wailing man’s shoulder, dripping blood into the wound. He grasped his victim’s chin and bent back the man’s head as a stream of blood drained from his wrist. The vampire groaned, a rumbling sound filled with ecstasy. Thick, blackish liquid flowed deep into the dark-haired man’s wide open mouth. He sputtered and gasped as he cried out.

She swallowed disgust down a dry throat, forcing back the nausea.

The vampire shut the man’s mouth. “The immortality you desire is at hand. Stop your sniveling. Did you think it would be easy?”

Finally, the vampire shoved the man onto the sand, leaving him to lie with his fallen brethren. A second hooded figure stepped close to the man and covered his nude form with a red velvet robe.

Her gaze roamed the two other men waiting to be turned. Anger filled her chest with heat. She stared into the ritual ring. The death stage dominated the wide open space. Black-robed figures stood like statues in the upper alcoves, watching, their hands clasped in front of them. Their features were obscured by the cowls of their robes.

Josh had been right. Her need to flee warred with her need to save the remaining humans. If she left even one behind, how would she be able to look at her face in the mirror? Her fingers tightened on the rock ledge as her muscles rippled and ached with the first signs of transformation. The beast wanted to escape and tear them to shreds.

The first vamp plunged his fangs into the redheaded man’s thick neck. Seconds passed then the vampire pulled back and moved to his next victim.

Powerful roars rose to a crescendo as the last prey trembled. His shoulder-length blond hair fluttered around his thrashing head. He leaned away from his death, fighting for his last human breath.

Deep within her, the wolf growled. With effort, she held the beast at bay. For all its strength, there were too many vamps in the ritual room, a couple hundred of them at least—maybe more. Still, she couldn’t just watch and not try…something.

The poor man on the ground crab-walked away from the robed vamp’s approach but didn’t get far before the vamp grabbed his hair. The blond’s eyes squeezed shut. She could almost sense his capitulation and something about it tugged at her heart. Obviously, he was not there of his free will, and he didn’t want to be turned.

She took a deep breath, summoning her inner strength. About to spring into action, she halted when the chanting died and silence draped the room. Not far from the blond, on a balcony stretching over the sand, one of the black hooded figures lifted a hand.

“This is our last member to transform into the Brotherhood. Soon, we will have enough Truces to protect our territory.”

She sucked back a gasp. Ryant.
Ryant
spoke to the crowd. He was a part of this. Sweat enveloped her body. Inside, the wolf howled and begged for release. As she ground her teeth, holding on to every ounce of humanity she had, her gaze focused on Ryant until everything else bled into gray. Despite knowing this was his place, she hadn’t thought— How could he be a part of this?

“No, please. Just let me go. I won’t say a word of this. I swear.”

Her attention was pulled from Ryant to the blond. His plea broke something inside her. Springing into action, she kicked off the heels and jumped over the balcony wall, landing two stories below. Sand whipped around her ankles with the impact. She rebounded from a crouch, intent on the vampire bending to the blond’s neck—the human she had to rescue.

Her fingernails shifted into sharp nails. Muscles on top of muscles stretched her leather pants and makeshift shirt. She lunged at the vampire. As she plummeted into him, a loud crack penetrated the air. Tucked against him, she rolled across the arena, tearing with her teeth and slashing at any part of his body she could get to. A sting on her stomach told her he’d gotten her with his razor nails. Shoving him away, she surged to her feet. He swiped at her, cutting her from nape to left shoulder.

“Stop!” The voice thundered throughout the cavern.

Kris snarled at the vampire. Green, starburst eyes glared as he hissed back. The hole in his face would leave a lasting mark. Satisfaction filled her even as her wolf whined at not being able to complete the kill.

From her peripheral vision, she saw the other vampires circling, claws raised, ready to strike but they didn’t move. Just hissed and screeched at her, and all of this because of their leader. From where she stood, she looked to the balcony at where he stood rigid, his body shaking with rage. Her lips curled, exposing her sharp canines. She didn’t care how angry he was; she was furious herself. Josh was right about humans being taken. Humans shouldn’t be plucked from the streets to be turned rabid. “I will not let you turn this last soul into death, Ryant.”

Several vampires shifted toward her. Her skin rose in bumps and her spine tingled as the wolf continued to beg for release. Let them come closer and she’d show them her wolf. She might go down but she’d take a bunch of the bastards with her.

“Truces, keep your distance.”

The vampires edged away, except the one she wounded. She could see every part of him ached to attack.

Ryant’s voice came low, menacing. “Back. Off. Shade.” Each word laced with threat promised that if Shade attacked, he would suffer grave consequences.

With a snarl, Shade backed away, into the sea of red robes. Ryant turned his glare on Kris.

“You cannot have this human, Ryant.”

He studied her for a moment, and then snapped his fingers. A vampire strutted toward her from the perimeter. She snarled at his approach. The only reaction she received was a smirk. His bald head, streaked with tattoos, glistened under the torchlights. The tribal tattoo design above his eyebrows rippled. Bony points shot up from the ink into a hood of bony crown.

“You want to play, Wolf Girl. I love to spar,” he said as his gray eyes glowed, the starbursts brilliant.

She hated being called Wolf Girl.

“Zeke, go to the mortal.”

Zeke bowed to Ryant then tossed at her, “Too bad. It would have been fun.” He snickered and walked off, back stiff, yet with a spring in his steps as he approached the blond whose eyes were so wide she thought they might pop out of his head. She could only imagine the thoughts going through his mind.

Switching her gaze from the blond, she glared at Ryant. An unreadable expression on his face, he stared back before he dissolved into thin air. As he reappeared on the sand floor, he held out his hand. She ignored it and after a few seconds, he dropped his hand.

“Follow me. We’ll discuss the mortal’s life in private.” She didn’t trust the comment,
the mortal’s life
, as if the poor man was a simple product with a shelf life expectancy of zero.

“He comes with us.” Kris gritted her teeth. Would he accept? He’d better, damn it.

Ryant snapped his fingers. Zeke pushed the human forward, making him stumble, almost falling to his knees. Zeke jerked him to his feet. She cringed at the mishandling of the man. Fucking vampires.

She fell into a position to keep an eye on the human in between. Whatever was on Ryant’s mind, she was not leaving without the blond.

11

The soothing hush in the office did not ease Kris’s sour mood. Sharp thyme overlaying zinc penetrated the air—a clever way to conceal the scent of blood. She hoped the human couldn’t detect the death.

The office looked like a filing room. Two walls covered in shelves, the other two had marker boards with charts. A black leather couch was centered under the boards on the far wall. On the shelves were books and manila folders. An ostentatious, expensive mahogany desk and a mini bar occupied the back part of the room.

“I can’t believe you are kidnapping humans off the streets and turning them, against their will, into vampires.” Heat seethed through her.

His chin lifted. “I have done no such thing. Humans visit my club all the time. I created a survey asking if they were given the chance at immortality would they take it. Humans respond and leave their contact numbers. They volunteered after they were informed of the situation.”

“And him?” She jerked a thumb in the blond’s direction. “Did he volunteer?”

Ryant turned his gaze from her and studied the man. “V’s the lead recruiter. I’ve monitored the first several recruitments.” He looked back at Kris. “I was out looking for you with this last one.”

Her eyes widened. “So you never stopped to verify they were actually volunteers?”

Thick lashes lowered over dark eyes. From experience, she knew he didn’t like to be questioned. Like she cared.

“No, I did not,” he said. “I trust her.”

“There you go throwing that word around.” Kris stifled a scoffing laugh.