Forsaken Hunger Read online

  “Come, my black-eyed beauty. I have a job for you.” He strode some distance away then transformed into his dragon self. Unlike the shadowed imitation of the Drakon, it was a true form bequeathed to his kind by the gods. Muscles stretched and bones split and reknit themselves as his skin changed from pores to scales.

  The process took only a matter of seconds. When it was complete, he cradled Allorha in one of his claws and flew back to his territory. There were preparations to make and locations to seek out.

  This was going to be fun. He could feel it.

  * * * *

  Warm sunlight spilled into the room from the open balcony doors. Daneya rolled over in bed and stretched out an arm. She reached farther in her half-sleep, seeking a warm body that wasn’t there.

  Mckenzie.

  She shot up and looked around the room frantically. After searching the bathroom and hallway, she heard a distant peal of laughter and ran outside to the balcony. Down in the yard below stood Mckenzie, Blade and Saden. They were standing in a loose circle speaking in tones too low for her to catch. Once she coaxed her heart out of her throat, she made a mental note to strangle her daughter for leaving the room without letting her know. And to have another talk about unlocking their doors in the morning.

  She watched Saden kneel beside Mckenzie and hand her something she couldn’t quite make out. Blade ran through the tall grass about ten yards away then waved to them. It wasn’t until Saden moved his arm in a pitching motion that Daneya realized they were trying to teach her daughter something. When Saden stood and backed up, Mckenzie stretched her arm in the same motion toward Blade.

  Daneya barely caught the glint of steel in her daughter’s hand before it was hurled through the air. A heartbeat later, Blade dissolved into shadow then reappeared in another spot at roughly the same distance. Mckenzie adjusted her aim and threw again with Blade doing his disappearing/reappearing act a second time.

  They repeated this process twice more in rapid succession. When Blade finally stopped bouncing from place to place, he held up a hand with all four knives in it and whooped loudly. Mckenzie jumped up and down and laughed brightly while Saden clapped behind her.

  It dawned on Daneya that they were teaching her daughter to throw knives. Using Blade as target practice. Not exactly an activity she approved of, but the happiness on Mckenzie’s face was unmistakable.

  A shroud of guilt settled over her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d played with her Kennie or scheduled time for just the two of them. She was always so busy with her job or worrying about keeping them safe.

  A part of her wanted to run out and join them. To forget about her trepidations and enjoy the freedom of the moment. It was more tempting than anything had been to her in a long time.

  She looked over to Saden and sucked in a breath when she saw him staring straight at her. Even from so far away, she could feel the intensity of his gaze. It made her hyperaware of her body in a way she was unfamiliar with. She touched a hand to her clenching stomach and felt her bare midriff. A quick glance down showed she was still dressed in her night wear. Thin shorts and a tight tank top.

  Shit!

  When she looked back at Saden, she could swear a smile flitted across his face before he faded to his dragon form and disappeared. Ignoring the heat scalding her cheeks, she went inside and took a cool shower.

  It had been two days since she’d last seen Saden and their conversation was still fresh in her mind. The way he’d pulled away from her after she had ridiculed him. She couldn’t understand why her opinion had mattered to him. She was just an innocent in the way of his target, wasn’t she?

  Regardless of what had passed between them, she had to find out more, do more than sit around and go stir crazy. She was a fighter only second to being a mom, and she wanted in on bringing Gabriel down.

  Now she just had to convince Saden of that.

  Downstairs on her way to retrieve her errant daughter, she heard banging noises coming from the laundry room farther down from Cherri’s bedroom. She followed the sounds and found Cherri standing in front of the washing machine with both hands covering her face and shoulders hunched in.

  “Cherri?” She stepped closer and reached out to comfort her friend.

  Cherri swiped an arm across her face then whirled around, flashing white teeth in a smile that almost looked like it hurt. “Daneya! You scared me. I-I was just finishing up here. Did you need something?”

  Daneya frowned, taken aback by Cherri’s false mood. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Of course,” Cherri answered lightly. She hastily brushed her red-rimmed eyes then starting folding clothes from a basket atop the dryer with hands that trembled.

  No. Her friend was definitely troubled. “Did Blade say something to you, do anything? If he laid a hand on you—”

  “It’s not that!” Cherri burst out. She sniffled once then turned around, eyes cast downwards. “I just… I had plans this weekend. I met this really great guy…” Her voice faltered and she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Our lives are too complicated anyway, right? I mean, how do you explain to your date that your best friend’s a paranoid weapons specialist and you were held hostage by criminals trying to protect you from a Vampyre maniac?” She let out a slightly hysterical laugh and threw her hands in the air.

  Daneya was silent, stunned. Cherri had every right to her frustration, yet her words stung deeply. More than that, Daneya couldn’t believe she’d missed such a vital event in Cherri’s life. Trust with men didn’t come easily for either of them, and for the same reason. How could she have missed the fact that her friend had apparently given hers to a man she didn’t even know about?

  She cleared her throat and tried again. “I know this is hard, but it’ll be over soon. I’ll talk to Saden and find out—”

  “I know, I know,” Cherri cut in, wiping a fallen tear from her cheek. “Things could be worse. I get that. It’s just… What if this guy was the one? I really thought…” She waved a dismissive hand and grabbed the basket. “Do what you have to. I’ll be in my room.”

  Daneya watched her go with a mixture of helplessness and resolve. She had to do something, and soon. Saden could try to avoid her all he wanted, but she would track him down if necessary. This was her fight as well.

  Chapter Seven

  It wasn’t until after lunch that Daneya was able to get Blade alone. Mckenzie was taking a nap due to having snuck out of their bedroom at five o’clock in the morning, and Cherri had gone right back to her room after eating.

  She found Blade in the living room playing one of the video games he’d brought over for Mckenzie. With a frown, she sat down in an armchair to the side. While the thought of escaping had crossed her mind more than a few times, she was betting if Saden had the power to sense her location, Blade did as well. Besides, the man was always there. Always playing some game or joking around with her daughter.

  Blade pounded at buttons on the game controller and let out a snarl. “Argh! Fuckin’ like a humming bee!”

  “I’d have thought, being a Drakon, you would be a little more…mature,” she ventured.

  Blade sent her a sideways glance then went back to his gaming. “Maturity is a myth. It’s just an illusion we put on for women to get them into bed.”

  Daneya opened her mouth then closed it. There was no arguing with that statement. She shifted in her seat, suddenly unsure of where to start with the questions she desperately wanted answers to. “Saden told me he was a Vampyre before he became a Drakon. Were you one, too?”

  He slanted her a bored, sideways glance. “No. I was a Rakshasa.”

  A shapeshifter, then. Interesting. “Are you much younger than Saden?” By his Hollywood looks and juvenile behavior, she guessed him to be several decades younger, if not centuries.

  The man let out a condescending laugh. “I’ll be a hundred and sixty-two this year. That puts me in the lead by almost a century. Look, I ain’t e
xactly into small talk so why don’t you get to the point?”

  Fair enough, she thought. “I want to ask you a few questions about Saden.”

  He snorted loudly. “So you can add more fodder to the cannon? Have something else to criticize him for? I don’t think so.”

  “He told you about that?”

  “Didn’t have to. The fact that he’s asked me to stay here while he works nonstop says it all.”

  She paused, shaken by the animosity in his tone. “Why do you hate me so much?”

  This time he set his controller down and gave her his full attention. “You serve an organization that’s corrupted by its own insularity. Defensores Contra Malum,” he spat out. “Protectors, my ass. The only thing you protect is your freedom to murder demons without restraint. You have no respect for the laws we have to abide by just to keep you humans safe. When was the last time you stopped to investigate the so called ‘evil’ you eradicate? To find out if they truly deserve to die or not?”

  “We always check our targets before taking them down,” Daneya said, feeling her own anger rise in defense. “That Vampyre Saden took out the night I met him was responsible for the deaths of at least six humans. He was killing them with the drugs he trafficked. Do you expect us to simply stand by and wait for you Drakons to step in and take care of those situations? I’ve known at least a hundred more demons like Messing that we took down for the protection of mankind.”

  “Can you honestly tell me they were all like Messing? That every single one of the demons killed by the DCM were guilty of crimes against humanity?”

  The response clawing its way out got stuck on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t refute his insinuation. Not completely. There were stories of innocent lives being taken by mistake. She’d even witnessed it once first hand. Her team had been after a rogue Rakshasa, a shapeshifter, and found what they’d thought was his hideout. They’d gone in full bear, only to find out later that the Rakshasa they had killed wasn’t their target. It had been logged as an unfortunate accident in the line of duty. A tragedy utterly forgotten by the next day.

  “That’s what I thought,” Blade said with contempt.

  A surge of indignation swept through her. “You have no right to pass judgment on me. Yes, there have been mistakes, but they weren’t made by me. And at least ours were unintentional. You don’t know the hell I’ve been through because of your kind. Or the family and friends I’ve lost. Gabriel took everything—” She choked on the last sentence, realizing what she’d been about to say.

  Blade’s expression softened. “We all have our monsters. You should take more care with whom you choose to face yours.”

  “Does Saden hate me as well for being a member?”

  He chuckled at that. “No. He has a disease. It started in his heart and spread to his groin area.”

  She shook her head in confusion, but he didn’t elaborate. They stared at each other for long seconds, at an impasse on the subject. Finally, she decided it wasn’t worth it and gave a small grin. “Siding with criminals would be bad for my reputation.”

  “Yeah, but we look damn good. That’s gotta count for something.”

  She laughed at that, her thoughts inevitably turning back to Saden. “Tell me what it’s like. To be a Drakon.”

  He sighed heavily and narrowed his gaze. “Do you really want to know?” When she gave a nod, he stared out of the nearby window and said quietly, “It’s like nothing you can conceive of. When a Drakonem places a piece of his soul inside you, it takes over and suffocates your body from the inside. Whatever powers a demon inherits from his parents are extinguished. In Saden’s case, it was his aethra, his very soul. When he lost it, he didn’t only lose his power and need to feed. He lost the ability to embrace life.

  “Imagine an existence without the capability to experience true joy, or love, or even a simple moment of happiness. We can remember them, though. Occasionally, the loss can be enough to drive a Drakon insane. The physical deprivation can be just as painful. Sleep never brings rest. Food and drink contain no sustenance. We live in a perpetual state of hunger and thirst.”

  “I’ve seen you eat,” Daneya interjected softly, trying to wrap her head around what he was telling her. It didn’t seem possible to live such a life without losing one’s sanity. Let alone to keep one’s morals in place. The cruelty of the Drakonem justice system seemed beyond excessive, even for murderers.

  She felt beneath her shirt for the scar on her abdomen. He could’ve left her to die. Or let Gabriel take her, giving him more evidence to the Vampyre’s violation of their laws. Instead, he had healed her and offered safety to strangers. She honestly couldn’t say if she would be that compassionate without a soul.

  Blade cocked his head to the side. “Like I said, we can remember what it felt like. Sometimes it helps. After the soul ‘gift’, we’re stripped of everything that once made us the person we were. Our names and heritage. Our very wills are broken down by anything the Drakonem thinks will do the job. Beatings, isolation, playing on our fears. It doesn’t matter how strong you are. I’ve seen men hold out for years only to break harder than the rest. All a Drakonem has is time, and they use it to their advantage. Their task is to remake us into puppet killers. Train us to do their bidding without question or hesitation with the promise of death at the end of our sentences.

  “Some of us manage to hold on to respect for ourselves and life in general. Try to help each other out if that’s the goal. Although in Saden’s case, I don’t know how he survived his first five years as a Drakon with his dignity intact.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He chewed on his lip while studying her, as if trying to decide whether he wanted to answer. “Saden was nine years old when he was made a Drakon.”

  Daneya felt the blood rush from her face. “That’s impossible.”

  He lifted a single eyebrow. “I guarantee you it’s very much possible. Normally, a Drakon is ready for his first assignment within a year of his initiation. Saden was held back for five. Because of his age, it went unquestioned by the gods.”

  “He was too young to kill.” The incongruity of her assumption hit her as soon as the words were out. Killing was probably what had caused him to become a Drakon in the first place.

  “Oh, he was ready. You learn fast when your only choices are to follow orders or endure endless torture. It was our Drakonem that found another use for him. Five years, that kid went through a hell that would’ve shattered grown men.” He paused and stared out of the window again. The anger and disgust in his voice sent shivers down Daneya’s spine.

  Eventually, a small grin curved his lips. “He didn’t let that defeat him, though. One day, he got up the courage to sneak through a rift with me into the human realm. By the time I had found out he’d followed me, I couldn’t take him back. Our Drakonem would’ve punished us both. So I let him tag along. The little shit actually ended up saving my hide when I got jumped by a group of criminals associated with my target. Serrakus found out afterwards and we were punished, but Saden had already gotten in his first kill. Serrakus couldn’t keep him as a slave anymore.”

  “A slave?”

  Blade jerked his gaze back to her, as if he’d forgotten she was there. Time stretched on until he jumped to his feet and strode out of the room.

  “Wait!” Daneya followed him to the kitchen where he grabbed a beer from the fridge. “One more question and I swear I’ll leave you alone.”

  He waved a hand then downed half of the bottle in one swig. “I’ve already told you too much.”

  “Please. If I am to trust him, I need to know this.” She took his tense silence as consent and plowed on, partially afraid of the answer she might get. “Did Saden commit murder? Is that why he became a Drakon?”

  Again, there was an interminable pause. “What did he tell you about Gabriel?”

  The change of subject caught her by surprise. “Only that Gabriel is his target, and that he’s searching for incriminat
ing evidence of a crime Gabriel committed. Why?”

  Blade switched subjects again. “Demon laws don’t conform to varying circumstances like your human laws do. Our authorities don’t care whether an act of murder was carried out through self-defense or revenge, or whether it was intentional or by accident. It’s only the repercussions of the act that are judged. How many people and how greatly they’re affected by the crime. If the severity is too high, the authorities will call upon the Drakonem to deal with the offender.”

  He stopped on his way out of the kitchen to meet her gaze squarely. “Whatever you take from this, make sure you know your true enemy. Saden didn’t deserve what happened to him and he doesn’t deserve censure from you.”

  She watched him go as her mind rapidly assessed the last parts of their conversation. That Blade believed Saden’s crime was born of forced circumstance was clear, and she was inclined to trust him. She’d conducted enough interrogations to know when she was being lied to.

  It was the reference to Gabriel that threw her off. Blade had mentioned him only after she’d asked about Saden’s crime. The two had to be connected somehow, which meant Gabriel was more than a mere target.

  Could he have been partly responsible for the conviction of a nine year old? Could Gabriel do that to a child knowing the consequences? She nearly laughed out loud at that. The Gabriel she knew was capable of that and so much more. It twisted her insides to think of the happy little boy in the photo album being stripped of his innocence for a crime that may not have been his fault.

  ‘Five years, that kid went through a hell that would’ve shattered grown men.’

  Blade’s words swirled through her mind. She knew what it was to lose everything. To have life turned upside down by events she couldn’t control. When her parents had died in a car accident, she’d been only four and her sister thirteen. They’d been split up and thrown into the system. Daneya had spent the next five years dealing with her loss on her own. Being moved around to three different foster homes before Emily had turned eighteen and was able to take custody of her.