Christian's Hunt Read online

“Aww…fuck. The guy’s at it again?” He sat up, his temper set off easier than normal. He leaned his elbows on his knees and shot her a sneer. “And Josh caught it?”

  “Yeah.” She lied, but she didn’t want her brother in trouble for sending the tracker. “And Monroe sent me a valentine at the funeral.”

  “Nice.” He let out a forced sigh and clicked his tongue against his fang. “That was two weeks ago. Why didn’t you inform me until now?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “‘Ya can’t keep shit like this from me, Mistress.”

  “I know.” She slumped on the couch and examined the ceiling. Composed of wood paneling, it was a comparable pattern to what was in her room. “He went after my mom. What if he goes after Josh again?”

  “Maybe we should make him a vampire.”

  “No.”

  “Why?” He tugged on her sleeve to capture her attention. When she engaged him, he continued. “Don’t you want to give him a fighting chance? If he’s a vampire, he can fight them off. As a human, he’s bound to be killed.” He smoothed the dark stubble on his chin. He was never clean-shaven.

  “Yeah, but—” She dug her fingers into the pillow, her tone defensive.

  “But what?”

  “The Master won’t do it.”

  “He won’t?” His eyebrows lifted as he challenged her. Both were silent during the stand-off.

  Addison caved and shied from him. “No. He’s not worthy of being an Elite.”

  “What’s that matter? If you asked the Master to do it, you know he would.”

  “I can’t.” She mumbled as she examined her knees. She plucked at a few hairs on the fabric of her leggings.

  “Why?”

  “Josh isn’t like you and the others.” She hugged the pillow and peered out the open door. A portrait of a youthful woman holding a basket of apples hung on the hall wall. She scanned it with shrewd eyes. “He’s weak. Even as a human, you and the other male Elites were strong. I love my brother, but he isn’t deserving of being an Elite.”

  “Ooo…. that’s cruel.” His tight lips muted Darien’s chuckle as he ran his fat fingers through his wet mane.

  “I’m not trying to be harsh. Green Elites like him are the first to get picked off. And Josh doesn’t give up. Even if outnumbered, he wouldn’t quit. He’d die before he surrendered.”

  “Those are admiral qualities. He’s brave and devoted. Willing to lay his life on the line for the family. Have confidence in the kid. He might surprise you.”

  “But I don’t want the hunters to kill him,” she whispered. She studied the texture of the pillow as she passed her fingers over the smooth black surface.

  “Yeah, there’s always a risk, but you’ll make him the happiest damn guy in the world. Plus, if he’s an Elite, he’ll be stronger. He can fight back if he’s jumped by the hunters again. There’s a better chance of losing him if he remains human than if he’s an Elite.”

  “That’s true,” she whispered.

  “I’ll talk to the Master. See what he suggests.” Darien scanned the open door then her.

  She nodded but said nothing.

  He rubbed his forearm and peeked beyond his shoulder at his bedchambers. “Sorry to cut you short, Mistress, but I gotta get ready for tonight’s hunt. Anything else?”

  “What should we do about Monroe?”

  “Nothing.” He shrugged. “Monroe does sneaky shit like that all the time. He ain’t gonna stop. You gonna tell the Master?” He rose and wiggled his nose.

  “No, I figured he’d lose it.” Biting her lip, she hesitated for a second. “I hoped maybe you could do it?” She flashed him a sweet smile to butter him up.

  “Okay, I’ll do it.” He undid his belt and adjusted it around his abdomen. “But remember, don’t ever engage Monroe or go with him. Don’t matter what he threatens you with.” Darien’s attention moved to the door leading to the hall and back at her. “He’s like a dog. Pet ‘em once and they’ll stick around forever.”

  “Monroe’s not a dog.” She clasped the pillow to her belly.

  “Yeah, he’s a fucking psycho. Like a blond wolfman with rabies.”

  She laughed, but it was through sealed lips. She rubbed the stiff fringes of the pillow on her cheek.

  “Okay. No more gabbing.” He seized her pillow and flung it on the other side of the couch. “‘Cause I’m starving.” He held out his hand and motioned for her to stand. “Come on, I’ll escort you to your room.”

  “I can go alone.” She leaped to her feet. She shoved on his chest to knock him over, but he didn’t budge. “I’ll see you later. Happy hunting.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take you dinner later.” He raised a finger and eyed her with suspicion. “Remember, when me and the hunters are out, you stay in your room. No running around on your own. If you sense any danger, hide in the secret passage in the wardrobe. Got it?”

  She nodded, but it was more of a sarcastic response. She got this lecture a million times. The Elites were protective of her, and though she hated being treated like a child, she went along with it.

  She raced past him and retired to her room. When she got inside, she rang Samson. He was her former guardian but lived at the manor her brother worked. Josh hated Samson, and the pair quarreled.

  “Hey,” Samson answered in a sing-song voice, “it’s the little Mistress. How you doin’?” It was noisy in the background, but he shut a door and the voices ceased.

  “I want your opinion.” She paused by the window and peered out. A garden was beyond, but the plants were dead.

  “Anything for you,” he cooed in a flirty tone.

  “Do you think I should make Josh a vampire?”

  “You? Isn’t it a decision the Master must make?” he asked, his tone becoming more serious.

  “Yeah, but he might if I ask.” She spun and rubbed her arm. Just the thought of Josh becoming a vampire infuriated her, but it was his dream.

  “And you’re considering it?”

  “Yeah,” she confided. Her emotions raged and even though she talked to Samson and not Christian this was as hard. “I don’t want him to be one, but I guess it might be the ideal thing to do—to protect him. To—” She concentrated on the bed. Enormous, the piece was the focal point of the chamber. The sheets were black silk, the comforter matching them. “—keep him.”

  “Well….” Samson sighed as he hesitated like he was reluctant to speak. “I can understand both positions on this. On one hand, if he’s an Elite, he’ll never grow old. He’ll get stronger and you’ll, hopefully, never lose him. But—” He pushed air out his nostrils, a sourness to his next comment. “He’s not Elite material. You know that.”

  “I do.” Putting a hand to her lips, she gulped her tears. Her eyes burned, and she felt like breaking. “He’s weak but—” Her tone was whiney and higher pitched. “It’s why he needs this. To—”

  “Oh, Mistress. Don’t cry. It’ll be fine. Where’s the Master? Is he around?”

  “No, he’s gone,” she choked out as she sniffled her tears. She forced them back, her tone recovering. “I haven’t spoken to him about it, yet. I’ve talked to Darien, though.”

  “And what’d he say?”

  “I should do it.” She tugged on her sweatshirt arms and mopped her tears with her sleeve as she wandered to the bed. She hopped onto it and captured a pillow. Melting into her arms, the fluffy softness resembled a cloud.

  “Why?” Samson didn’t have the same opinion as Darien. “I think it’s a terrible idea. You become an Elite because you deserve it. Earned it. He hasn’t done that.”

  “Neither have I.”

  “Don’t say that. You’re a mate. It’s different.”

  “I’m weak and I’m a terrible vampire.” She pouted her lip. “The Master picked a horrible mate. All I do is bring him trouble and make him worry.”

  “Where’d this come from? None of what you say is true,” Samson reassured. “He loves you. We all love you. You’re a perfect vampire. Perf
ect.”

  “I’m not,” she mumbled.

  “You are. Have you eaten? You sound hungry. If I was there, you wouldn’t be. Darien’s slacking, he—”

  “Samson.” She hated when Samson and Darien fought over who was the alpha male. “I don’t want to fight with you. Darien’s out hunting now. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “I—” She halted when she noticed another call come in. She beamed at the name. “I’ll be fine. The Master’s calling. I better answer.”

  “‘Kay, but you take care of yourself, Mistress. Call anytime.”

  “Bye, Samson.” She hung up and dealt with the new call. “Hello, Master Vallore.” She flirted, speaking to him brightening her mood.

  “No other sound is as beautiful as my love’s voice. How these miles standing between us are so excruciating. How I miss you.” His voice was like butter in her ears.

  His comments made her merry, Addison sniffling. Christian was her remedy. Once under his influence, the world faded, and she only thought of him.

  “Ah…” she cooed in a sweet, poetic tone. “But what is a day compared to the eternity we have together?” She giggled after her remark, her cheeks hot. “They are but a breath, my love.”

  He chuckled as he responded. “A breath of the crispest winter air, or one infected by the stench of a rotting corpse. We do not forget such breaths for they are the hardest to take another after.”

  “I miss you,” she confided, her lip pouting as a tear slithered down her cheek. “I require nothing more in life than you.”

  “And I, you,” he returned in his natural tone. “What is my love up to this evening?”

  “I’m in bed waiting for Darien to bring dinner. I’m ravenous.”

  “I must punish him for his tardiness,” he quipped.

  “I’d rather wait for you to bring it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “How’s work?” She wiped the last of her tears, her mood cheery again. “Darien told me you’re fighting with Father Magnus. Is that where you went? Back to Hanton?”

  “Darien told you that?” Christian snapped at her, and from his reply, she struck a nerve. “And it’s not a fight, merely a misunderstanding. I spoke with him this morning and we worked out the matter.”

  “Did you win?” She bit her lip as she set her chin on the top of the pillow. She viewed the bouquet across the room. It was in a pot half her height and held fresh red roses. It made the place smell heavenly. She beamed at the sight.

  “Of course.” He snickered. “I always do.”

  “Christian…” Pausing, she sucked on her bottom lip. She couldn’t find the words no matter how hard she tried.

  “Yes, my love?”

  “Um…”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, I wanted to ask you—I mean—get your opinion on—”

  “On?” he asked after she hesitated again.

  “Making Josh an Elite.” Her next words rushed out of her mouth at a rapid pace. “Darien suggested I consider it, and Samson felt it was a bad idea, and—”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m torn. I want him to, yet—I don’t. It’s why I wanted your opinion.”

  “I agree with Samson. He doesn’t satisfy my specifications of a potential Elite. But—” He let out a tired sigh like his words were hard to say. “—if you wanted him to join the family, I would allow it.”

  “So, in your opinion, he shouldn’t be a vampire?”

  “Correct.”

  She exhaled with relief and felt better. Christian didn’t think Josh should be an Elite, and she did her part to fight on Josh’s behalf. It erased her guilt, and she hoped it stopped her brother from asking again.

  Chapter Three

  Vallore Manor: Castile, Northern Pargon

  A few days later….

  I t was now eleven PM, the sky beyond Addison’s window dark. A cool autumn breeze blew the drapes on the floor-length windows, making them dance.

  Addison laid on her stomach and waved her feet back and forth. The pink paint on her toenails was unblemished. She got dolled up and awaited her husband’s arrival.

  She slipped on a black tank top and a matching set of panties. Her hair was curled, a crimson ribbon around her head outlining the bumped style she spent the night perfecting. She resembled a pinup on a magazine cover, her vivid red lips striking against her pale skin and white teeth.

  Addison was replicating a photograph of Darien making a silly face. He wrinkled his nose, his tongue out as he bore his fangs. His tongue was longer than most and he bragged about it.

  As she spoke to her brother on the phone, her spirit was high. She tapped her pencil against her cheek. She quit her work and engrossed herself in the conversation.

  “Carl’s a terrible best friend. How could he sleep with my girlfriend behind my back? I mean—like—then be able to look me in the face every day? What kind of friend does that?”

  “A rotten one.” Addison laughed, shaking her head as she swung her legs back and forth.

  “Well—” He paused like he couldn’t locate the words.

  “You’ll meet a new girl. I know you will. When I—” She halted when the floor creaked near the door. She checked behind her, but she was alone. “—get back to Caron, I’ll set you up with a better girl. I bet the Master knows a few.”

  “I bet very well. He’s fucked all the hot female vamps.”

  “Not listening,” Addison cut him off and spoke in a sing-song voice. She put her pencil to the paper and darkened the shadows in Darien’s face. “Anyway, guess what the Master said?”

  “What?”

  “Guess.” She glanced at the window. Maybe she should close it. Or—maybe she was being paranoid. The stupid valentine she got from Monroe had her worked up. She settled against it and returned to her work.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Guess.”

  “No,” he snapped.

  “Josh! Come on. Guess.” Her pencil paused above the paper as she gazed at the massive headboard ahead of her. An artisan carved a scene into the timber. Female angels frolicked around a giant tree, branches of the trees making up the border around the perimeter of the headboard.

  “Okay.” Josh chuckled, this banter common for the twins. “He agreed to make me a vampire.”

  “No.” Addison giggled, shaking her head. She examined her drawing. Darien was still a rough sketch. “Guess again.”

  “I don’t like guessing, Addy.”

  “Okay fine,” she puffed and kicked the mattress. “He said we might come to visit you soon.”

  “Really?” The sarcasm was clear in his voice. “‘Cause you said that last week. I think you heard him wrong. You know, ‘cause all you think about when you’re around him is fucking.”

  “Hilarious, Joshua Collins.” Addison stuck her tongue out, even though Josh couldn’t see it. She kicked her legs back and forth, thumping her bottom with each repetition. “Ha. Ha. Ha. Like you’d know what our relationship is like.”

  “I know how he is with women.”

  “You’re—” Addison wanted to say more, but heard a crash on the floor below her. “Um…” Halting, she tossed her pencil on the sketchpad, and it hopped, producing a soft plunk. “Just…”

  She sat up, her attention snapping to the exit. Muffled cries came from the stairwell. She lounged against the headboard and assumed it was a few vampires chasing donors. But she couldn’t relax and was on high alert.

  “Just what?”

  Addison forced a laugh, seized her pencil, and tapped it against the surface of the paper. “I forgot.”

  “It’s not surprising.”

  Her nervous gaze fixated on the door as more thumps came from the floor below. Her tone was bright, but her expression was anything but. “So, how’s everything going at the manor?” Addison shut her sketchbook, collected her pencils, and placed them in the box. “I hear you and Samson are good friends.”

>   “The guy’s an arrogant meathead.”

  “Aww…does he scare little Joshy?” She took her art supplies and went to the desk. She set them down.

  “Drop it already. We’re not friends nor will we ever be.”

  “Okay.” Opening her sketchbook, she leafed through it until she located a print of Christian. “It’s dropped.” Making smoochy faces at the picture, she planted one on his noggin before slipping the book into a drawer.

  “So, how’s the manor? Anything exciting going on?” She included her next part jokingly. “Like Amanda getting killed by hunters?” She startled when she caught footsteps in the hallway, and a person ran past her room. She slammed the drawer harder than needed.

  “No.” Josh was hard to hear because he stepped out to have a smoke. She recognized the click of the lighter as he lit the cigarette. “Just her natural, charming self. She’s got a thing for older guys like Mr. Samson. Apparently, he doesn’t feel the same way. Brandon fucks the shit out of her, though.”

  “Aww…I miss Samson. He told the best jokes.”

  “You can have him,” he barked, “take him to Castile. My sister’s the fucking Mistress and he treats me like a piece of shit. How’s that fair?”

  “Well if you finished your work instead of smoking pot with Carl, he might leave you alone.” She backed up against the desk and peeked at the window. She wanted to lock it, so she walked toward it.

  “Whatever,” he snapped. “Drop it. I don’t need to go there with you again.” His tone was dark, this argument one they had many times.

  “Well—you should stop. That stuff screws you up. Look at what happened to Kelly.” She thrust the curtains aside and shut the window. She glanced out. Nothing looked awry, the terraces below empty.

  “Come on, Addison, don’t bring her into this.”

  “Yes, I’m bringing her into this.” She ripped the drapes shut, her brow scrunched and her jaw rigid. “I’m worried Samson will call me informing me you OD’d. I love you. I don’t want it to happen to you.”

  “Says the girl who kills people and drains their blood.” His tone lightened as he bantered.

  The door handle jiggled.

  She twirled on her toes and checked it. “Um…” Pausing, she stooped her shoulders and softened her voice as she feigned a joking tone. “Darien’s calling me. I need to go before he gets all pissy at me again. He’s such a prick sometimes.”