Forsaken Hunger Page 4

  The Drakonem are known primarily as the keepers of the most violent criminals of the demonic races. When a demon commits an unforgivable crime, usually involving murder, it is given by its own kind to the Drakonem for punishment. It is believed that the Drakonem infuses each of these criminals with a piece of its soul, binding the two irrevocably together. This ritual transforms the demon into a Drakon, stripping it of its previous demonic nature. In essence, the demon loses its power and heritage to become a vessel of the Drakonem it is bound to.

  Drakons have no will of their own. Ironically, by the command of their masters, they police the criminal activities of all demonic races. While they live in the realm of the Drakonem, they are able to come and go from our world in order to carry out their duties. While sightings of these creatures are very rare, they are not to be taken lightly. Drakons are trained killers without conscience or morals. Weapons may slow them down but only a Drakonem has the ability to kill them. They can be easily identified by their pale, glowing eyes, said to be the power of the Drakonem soul shining through them.

  Without conscience or morals. She drew up the memory of the Drakon she’d seen. There was no contesting the fact that he was a skilled fighter. Messing had been reputed to be trained by the best of his kind, yet he’d been no match. The grace and fluidity of the Drakon’s movements had clearly shown who the superior fighter was. And the way he’d so casually summoned blue fire to incinerate Messing… That kind of power was beyond frightening.

  But for some reason, Daneya couldn’t relate that man to the mindless evil she’d dealt with in her life. His energy…his touch… Heat rose to her cheeks and her skin tingled where his fingertips had been. She trailed her own fingers over her jaw, remembering the gentleness of his caress. If she didn’t know better, she might’ve thought she was the first of her kind he’d come across instead of the other way around.

  His eyes had been daunting at first. A shocking, ice-violet that had been as cold as the depths of a glacier. Then they had changed, warmed, taking on a vibrant emerald hue. For the briefest moment, she could swear she’d caught a glimpse of true emotion in them. A mixture of longing and…pain? Was it possible for Drakons to experience turmoil or happiness, or anything?

  Daneya shook herself and took another drink of whiskey. What she’d seen and the information she had didn’t quite add up. Why had the Drakon spared the lives of Messing’s guards? Then there was the matter of the demon that had distracted her team at the same time the Drakon attacked their target. It seemed too coordinated to be a coincidence.

  She skimmed through the rest of the book but there were no more references to Drakons or Drakonem. Loud knocking at the front door made her jump and curse. Noiselessly, she slid open the under drawer of the coffee table and took out a 9mm from the hidden bottom compartment. At the door, all she could make out through the peephole was a man with his back turned toward her.

  A shot of adrenaline raced through her bloodstream, causing her muscles to tense. It could be the Drakon. Maybe he had followed her home to eliminate her as a witness.

  And rang the doorbell as a polite formality?

  Perhaps her co-workers were right and she was getting too paranoid for her own good. Although it was paranoia that had kept her alive over the past nine years. In her line of work, there was no such thing as being too cautious.

  She swung the door open and immediately aimed the gun at the man’s head.

  “Whoa!”

  Shit! “Vincent!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Apparently about to get one hell of a lobotomy.” The director of her DCM unit cocked his head to the side with a lopsided grin. “Erin said you needed to talk to me. Said you might forget to call me yourself.”

  Daneya suppressed a growl as she lowered her weapon. God save her from the good intentions of others. “I didn’t forget to call you. I was going to do it in the morning.”

  “So what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Nothing bad. We can talk about it later.”

  “Well, something’s got you all jumpy.”

  “It’s not that important. Honestly.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me now?”

  “I’m fine!” They stared each other down, she in exasperation and he with an insufferable, smug look on his face. This time she did growl, realizing her efforts were futile. She stood to the side and waved him in. “Whiskey?”

  “Sure,” he said a little too brightly.

  After getting him a glass, she took her seat again and closed the book.

  “Doing a bit of light reading?” Vincent sat on the other end of the couch. From the state of his rumpled clothes, he looked as if he’d only taken the time to throw on a jacket before coming over. His usually short, styled hair was tousled and broad shoulders hunched forward.

  Daneya felt guilty for adding to the obvious exhaustion that aged him beyond his thirty-six years. The man was meticulous at his duties and cared as much about those under his command as he would family. She hesitated, not quite sure how to break it to him that a Drakon was stalking his territory. Their territory.

  Vincent took a sip from his glass then placed it next to hers. “Erin was really worried about you. She told me you broke ranks by leaving the team to go off on your own. By the time they’d met up with you, Messing had escaped. Is this true?”

  Daneya knew the censure in his tone was more concern for her safety than the failed mission. “Not entirely. Messing didn’t escape. A Drakon killed him.”

  The building explosion was slow in coming. First puzzlement, disbelief then finally anger flashed over Vincent’s face. Blood flushed through his square features, coloring his sandy roots. “A Drakon?” he shouted, jumping to his feet. “Why the hell wasn’t I notified of this before now? And what the fuck were you thinking, going in there without backup?” Alarm etched his gray eyes and he clutched her shoulders with both hands. “Are you hurt?”

  “No!” She grasped his hands and gently pushed them away. “I’m all right. Keep your voice down. I don’t want to wake—”

  “What’s going on?”

  Daneya grimaced as Cherri stepped into the room from the back hallway. Her strawberry blonde curls were mussed and a pink robe over flannel pajamas sat haphazardly on her petite figure. Daneya thought about sending her friend back to bed then discarded it. Cherri could be as stubborn as she was at times, and had a right to know if they were in danger.

  “I think we’d both like the answer to that question,” Vincent said. He resumed his seat with Cherri taking that as her cue to follow suit. She sat down in an armchair across from them and tugged on the lapels of her robe.

  Daneya took a deep breath. “When I got to the scene, Messing’s human guards were already down. I saw Messing fighting with another man. I thought maybe it was a civilian in the wrong place at the wrong time. After I broke them up, I put enough bullets in Messing to keep him out of commission for a while, or thought I had. When I went to question the other man, Messing started firing on us. The next thing I knew, I was up against the wall of a building and Messing was on fire. I’ve never seen anything like it. The Drakon just looked at him and suddenly Messing was a tower of blue flames. He disintegrated to ash in seconds.”

  “What’s a Drakon?” Cherri asked.

  “A stone cold killer,” Vincent grumbled. “A creature without a soul that feeds on death and carnage. The grim reaper of demons.”

  Cherri’s blue eyes seemed to pop out of her skull. “You went after that?”

  “No,” Daneya assured her quickly. “We were only after Messing.” She recalled the information she’d gained from the book. “Maybe that’s why the Drakon was there as well. He could’ve been after the same target.”

  Vincent grunted. “Why did you separate from the others? That’s against regulation.”

  “I know. I just… A demon came at us right as we were about to make our move. We gave chase, but it was almost as if he was just distracting us. It fel
t off. That’s when I doubled back to find Messing.”

  “Well, you’re lucky that Drakon didn’t kill you along with the human lackeys.”

  “That’s just it. He didn’t. Kill the guards, I mean. They were only knocked unconscious.” She remembered now what had happened in that split second of confusion. How the Drakon had shielded her body with his against Messing’s flying bullets. “He protected me,” she said with wonder. Whether it had been on accident or purpose, it was the truth.

  “I think we should get you examined by the doc. You might have a concussion.”

  “My memory’s fine. The Drakon didn’t even come after me when I ran.” She couldn’t believe she was saying this. Her fear was no less than theirs regarding this new threat. However, she couldn’t ignore the facts.

  “What did he look like?” Cherri asked.

  Daneya shrugged. “Like a normal guy, I suppose.” Handsome. Rugged. Full of hard muscles with a face that was dark and mysterious. Everything about him had been dangerous. Enticing. She shook those errant thoughts from her head. “Uh…he had dark hair and was wearing a black trench coat. And his eyes… They were green, but I think they glow white when he uses his power.”

  Silence spanned over them for several seconds until Vincent shifted. “Even if he did let you go for now, I think you should err on the side of caution and move from here.”

  Daneya sighed. “I think you’re right. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  Cherri glanced at their glasses of whiskey and stood. “I’ll go put on a pot of coffee. I think we could all use some.”

  As soon as she left the room, Vincent moved closer to Daneya. He brushed away a lock of her hair then cupped her cheek intimately. “Move in with me.”

  Daneya could only stare in shock. It wasn’t the first time he had made an advance on her, but it was the boldest. And she was completely taken by surprise.

  Vincent chuckled softly and feathered a thumb across her lips. “If you want to, that is. I can take care of you and Mckenzie. And Cherri if she wants to come, too.” His eyes studied her face with no small amount of desire. “I know you’re not ready for a full relationship. Whatever lies in your past has made you the woman you are, and I respect that. I want you to give me a chance, though. I think we both deserve it.”

  He was right about one thing. The secrets of her past did still have a strong hold on her. She wanted to let him in. Vincent was a good man, attractive in a gruff sort of way and tough when he needed to be. He had been there for her from the beginning. Helped her find the resources to go to college and become a weapons specialist. He was especially fond of Mckenzie as well.

  But she couldn’t bring herself to commit that solidly to another person.

  Not yet. Perhaps not ever.

  “I don’t—”

  “Temporarily,” he cut in. “You’ll need time to find another place and you can’t risk staying here.” He lowered his voice and whispered, “Don’t make me beg.”

  Daneya laughed. “Okay. For one week.”

  Vincent leaned in close enough for their breath to mingle. Just as she was about to duck her head to avoid his kiss, he instead pressed his lips to her forehead. “It’s settled then.”

  Chapter Three

  Cherri Murkoff put the last of her clothes into the dresser then pushed her suitcase underneath the bed of the guest bedroom. Another twin bed had been set up temporarily next to hers for Mckenzie. They would be bunking together on the second floor of Vincent’s house until a more permanent residence was found. Daneya would’ve taken the room with her daughter but she frequently kept odd hours and didn’t want to wake her.

  The trouble of moving yet again didn’t bother her nearly as much as she knew Daneya feared. She was grateful to her friend for everything she had in her life. The companionship and security of knowing their past could never be repeated. Not with the protection the DCM offered. It wasn’t a perfect life, but it was better than anything she might find on her own.

  Daneya was like a sister to her, and Mckenzie the daughter she’d never had. They were her family. The only one she’d ever known.

  Still, it could be hard to live with the woman at times. They were opposites in so many ways. Where she longed for a houseful of children and a husband that could give them to her, Daneya was happy with her solidarity. It was almost impossible to fathom. How a woman who could have so much denied herself almost everything.

  Cherri stared out of the open window and felt the cool breeze on her face. The setting sun painted the picturesque neighborhood in muted shades of tan and peach. The entire private community located on the outskirts of North Valley was owned by their DCM unit. The organization was almost totally self-sufficient. The only trade they conducted was in the patenting and selling of breakthrough technology invented by their own people. Mostly, this consisted of software, security systems and weapons tech.

  Daneya had contributed in her own way with a few unique designs, such as bullets that could lodge into the dense cortex of a Vampyre’s bones and splinter them.

  On the driveway below, Daneya and Vincent were bringing in groceries from his jeep. Cherri could hear snippets of the same argument Vincent had been pressing since that morning. He was trying to convince Daneya to take his bedroom for the week while he slept on the couch in the living room. As chivalrous as that might seem to an outsider, Cherri knew the real reason for his insistence.

  Getting Daneya to move into his bedroom brought him one step closer to integrating her into his personal life. Even if it was only for a short while.

  Daneya was having none of it, however. Her rebuffs were subtle to spare Vincent’s feelings. The way she demurred with a smile and slipped away from his touches. It was hard to tell whether Vincent was even aware of the nuances of her body language.

  A shard of jealousy speared Cherri’s chest, familiar and deep. How dare her friend spurn the advances of a good man? Throw away the chance to make her family complete. She had no right! Not when so many other women spent their whole lives without. Alone. It wasn’t fair that opportunity should come to those who didn’t appreciate or accept it.

  Cherri felt the resentment within her grow. She hated and took comfort in it at the same time. It was like poison and the only thing strong enough to smother the more painful feelings. Her loss and despair of ever having a child or family of her own.

  She clutched her stomach and forced her thoughts away from that dark abyss. She loved Daneya, no matter how hard it was to watch her friend screw up her life.

  With effort, she tamped down the echoes of her chaotic emotions and joined the others in the kitchen. Mckenzie was standing over the counter stuffing her face with a slice of pizza straight out of the box. Her mother had taken over the kitchen table with her guns spread out before her. It was a habit of Daneya’s to clean them when she got home from work, although she kept them unloaded around McKenzie. Cherri was only surprised Daneya had limited herself bringing just three from their house. Her private collection consisted of more than twenty.

  Vincent looked up from where he was packing groceries into the refrigerator. “Hi. Daneya told me you like to cook but I thought you might want a break tonight. Help yourself to some pizza.”

  Mckenzie handed her a paper plate and napkin while biting into a second slice.

  “I gave you and Daneya the next few weeks off to take care of things,” he continued. After watching Daneya disassemble and clean her weapons for a minute, he said, “I hope at least one of you takes advantage of the vacation. Does she always do this?”

  Cherri smirked and loaded her plate with food. “Every night. We’ve learned to love her despite her many…quirks.”

  Vincent grunted. “You really should eat something, Daneya.” He could’ve been talking to the walls for all his commanding tone had an effect on her. “Hey, pipsqueak. Tell your mom to stop working and eat.”

  Mckenzie skipped over to the table where she dropped the pizza box onto the gun parts. “Ea
t, woman.”

  Daneya looked up in irritation. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking his side.”

  “Since when did that happen?”

  “Since he bought me with pretty words like ‘PS3’ and ‘games’.”

  Daneya narrowed her gaze on her daughter. “You bug me.”

  “You love me,” Mckenzie countered enthusiastically. She let out a peal of laughter when Daneya snatched her and began tickling her sides.

  Cherri smiled through the dull ache in her heart, blinking away tears before anyone could notice. The bond she had with Mckenzie was nothing compared to what the girl shared with her mother. They were so alike and so happy. Mckenzie was the spitting image of Daneya, down to her blooming beauty and sarcastic quips.

  That could’ve been her once, holding her child. Before her dreams had been stolen away by demons.

  Speaking of which… “Did you remember to grab my laptop from the house?”

  Daneya squeezed Mckenzie in a hug then pushed her away playfully. “It’s in your briefcase in the living room.”

  Cherri resisted the urge to fetch it and return to the guest bedroom for privacy. That would have to wait until later.

  The rest of the night passed by amiably enough, though the hours seemed to creep by. She itched to get on her laptop for reasons she hadn’t told Daneya about yet. It was too soon, and too personal.

  Vincent eventually gave up on his argument and helped Daneya inflate an airbed for her in his exercise room downstairs. The house grew quiet as everyone settled in for the night. Twenty minutes after Mckenzie fell asleep, Daneya knocked on the door softly and peeked her head in. Cherri, anticipating this, waved her in. The bags under Daneya’s eyes and lines of concern on her face as she sat beside her daughter were plain to see.

  “Don’t worry so much,” Cherri placated. “You’re doing the right thing.”

  “Am I?” Daneya sighed and scrubbed her eyes. “I shouldn’t keep moving her around so much. I’m a terrible mother.”