Forsaken Hunger Read online

  In Gabriel’s world, she was just one more victim without a face.

  “I thought…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “I thought Drakons only killed their targets. Will you kill Gabriel when you find your evidence?”

  “You sound very sure of his guilt.”

  It was a bald lead-in to the question she knew he wanted to ask. She hadn’t told anyone about her association with Gabriel, and she wasn’t about to start with a stranger. At least not until she could figure out his angle.

  He studied her for a minute then gazed outside. “We deliver justice when the authorities of any demon race can’t or won’t. The ruling house of Vampyres that Gabriel serves has denied the accusation made against him. They claim he is innocent. My Drakonem master feels differently. If I find evidence, I am to take it and Gabriel to my master for sentencing.”

  “To become a Drakon?” Daneya spat out incredulously. “He deserves to die for his crime!”

  “Death is not always a punishment, leisontee. Sometimes, it can be a blessing.” His voice was far away, haunted.

  From anyone else, she would have ridiculed those words. From him, they sounded as if spoken from experience. For the second time, she wondered what manner of killer he was.

  He waved for her to join him on the balcony. It wrapped around the back side of the manor and led to an open, rooftop veranda. The outdoor furniture there lay in abandonment similar to the pieces in the dining room. The table was weather-beaten and the chairs stacked haphazardly against the wooden railing.

  Beyond that, miles of beauty surrounded them. It was apparent that the land in the immediate area had been nurtured once. Where the ground was rough with overgrown weeds and bramble, she could imagine smooth, fresh grasses and small ponds by the copses of bushes. About a quarter-mile out was a line of unbroken vegetation. It extended as far as she could see, a thick mixture of evergreens and other coniferous trees.

  The manor itself was of shingle-style architecture, from what she could make of the tilted roofs. Ivies crawled freely along its stone walls, burrowing in cracks without hindrance.

  ”Does this all belong to you?”

  The wind teased Saden’s hair, catching it in the stubble on his jaw until he stripped it back. He looked more real in the sunlight and not the creature of darkness he’d appeared to be the night they met. “The property is mine. You’re welcome to explore it if you like. As well as the manor.”

  “And if I tried to leave?”

  “I can sense you at a close distance. I would find you and bring you back before you could make it off my land.” His words were steady and held more of a promise than a warning. He closed the gap between them and lifted a hand as if to touch her face, then let it drop. “You don’t have to tell me how you know Gabriel. I’ll find enough evidence to incriminate him. Until then, you have my word that I won’t let him near you. You and your daughter and Cherri are safe here.”

  The intensity of his gaze shook her. For the first time since finding him in the kitchen, she wanted to believe him. To trust in him. She felt as though she were sinking in quicksand with him holding the only branch to pull her out.

  Many times over the years, she’d imagined what she would do if she met Gabriel again. And in all of those scenarios, he’d been on her turf. Vulnerable and defenseless. Yet when he had found her at Vincent’s house, he had proven himself to be the superior. Again. She had almost lost her daughter and her life.

  Now, her only protection was her enemy. A demon that confused her with promises of safety. What could he possibly hope to gain from sheltering her and her family?

  “Why did you save me?” she asked.

  Saden blinked then furrowed his brow. “You are an innocent.”

  “You must run into innocents all the time in your line of work. Do you take them all home and heal them, too?” From his hesitation, she knew he was hiding a secret of his own. So he did have something to gain, and it had to be more than the information she could offer him. She readied another question, but he surprised her by flashing a smile.

  “Only the obstinate ones.” He turned and strode to the end of the veranda, leaped onto the railing and stepped off.

  She ran to the edge in time to see his body dissolve into dark particles that expanded into the faint form of a dragon. In the blink of an eye, it transformed from a shadow to shimmering light then disappeared altogether in a blur of speed.

  After convincing herself that the adrenaline racing through her system was from shock and not concern, she narrowed her eyes at the sky and muttered a quiet, “Show off.”

  A mental review of all she’d learned didn’t tell her much. One thing she did know… Drakons weren’t the immoral, mindless creatures her book had warned about. Otherwise, Saden would’ve used her as bait to incriminate his target instead of giving her the means to protect herself. Even against him.

  Still, he was cloaked in mystery and she more curious than ever. She would eventually discover what he was hiding from her. It was only a matter of time.

  The rest of the day passed without event. Cherri cooked dinner for the three of them which they ate on the island in the kitchen. It was clear something was bothering her. She was quiet and distanced. When Daneya asked if something was wrong, her friend simply smiled and shook her head. While cleaning up afterwards, Cherri made an offhand comment about wanting her laptop and being frustrated over the lack of an Internet connection. Daneya tried to distract her with conversation then gave up when Cherri became unresponsive.

  It was probably just nerves over the situation. All of them were on edge.

  Well…the two of them were.

  Mckenzie was merely excited to have a break from school, despite the reason for it. Blade kept her busy with video games and idle chatter, for which Daneya was grudgingly thankful. She was too tense to keep up with her daughter’s typical frenetic energy. As she checked and cleaned all of her weapons on a covered coffee table in the living room, she watched their interaction. A constant battle of skills amidst challenges and laughter on the only pieces of modern equipment in the room.

  Blade broke every preconception she’d had about Drakons. He was wary around her yet acted like an overgrown child in Mckenzie’s presence. The two of them were in their own little world most of the time, and for the life of her, Daneya couldn’t find a reason to personally hate him. He was just too damned immature.

  After giving Cherri a gun to keep with her in her room, Daneya took Mckenzie upstairs and put her to bed. A few hours later, Daneya was still awake. Her thoughts kept wandering to Saden and what he was doing. He hadn’t shown up after their talk earlier and she was eager to know if he’d found anything on Gabriel. She also wanted more information on him, which was hard to get when he wasn’t around. But he had said she was free to explore the manor.

  Mind made up, she got dressed and crept out of the room. What she’d seen of the downstairs had consisted mostly of ghost rooms with white sheets and layers of dust. As if Saden had acquired the house fully furnished from a long deceased family and hadn’t bothered to refurbish it. A disturbingly odd choice of residence for a creature whose real home was akin to a hell realm.

  She decided to check out the third floor first. It was only half the length of the second and contained two rooms to the right of the hallway. After flipping on the light of the closest one, she stepped inside and stared in wonder.

  Three of the walls were made entirely of mirror panels that reflected the bare wooden floor. The fourth running along the outer perimeter of the manor was made of the same seamless stone as the walls in her bedroom. A full array of weapons was mounted to its surface. From katanas and staves to swords and rattans, all had been hung with obvious care by their owner.

  It was a weapons practice room.

  She gingerly took down one of the samurai katanas and ran her fingers over the recently conditioned sheath. The curved blade inside had also been treated not too long ago. It gleamed brightly in the overhead li
ght and its edge was razor sharp. She was betting the other weapons were just as cared for, though it was difficult to believe they belonged to Saden. All of them were of antique design, some dating back to the eighteenth century. Whoever had owned them previously hadn’t purchased them simply for display.

  She replaced the katana then went to the next room over. It took some effort to open the door. The hinges creaked loudly from disuse when it finally budged. The air inside was musty and the bulb in the light fixture above was blown. She fumbled along the wall and found a tall lamp plugged in. The light it provided was minimal at best, forcing her to extend its cord as far as it would reach. The room appeared to be used for storage. Stacked atop boxes and large chests were more boxes. The small window on the other side had been boarded over and veils of cobwebs adorned the deep shadows farther in.

  After clearing a spot on the floor, she sat down and poked into the nearest box. It held a child’s things—dolls, a wooden train set and books that dated back decades ago. The box beneath it carried what she assumed were mementos. Small trinkets and decorations that likely held intrinsic value to whomever they had belonged to. It made her wonder about the previous tenants of the house.

  In an unlocked chest to her left, she found blankets and embroidered pillows. On top of them was an old photo album which she took out and opened. The pictures inside were all black and white and themed a boy and a girl separately. They aged with their families as the pages went on until they became an attractive couple. The woman was gorgeous and refined, yet clearly well-built. She wore form-fitting leathers in most of the pictures that pronounced her lean muscles. And the man with her…

  Daneya looked closer. He had above average height, wavy black hair, broad shoulders and a face with an edge of mystery. A lot like the current owner of the house. They had the same high cheekbones, firm jaw and similar styles of clothes. The only difference was the maturity lines that creased the face of the man in the photos.

  “What are you doing?”

  Daneya jumped, her hand flying to the knife she’d brought with her. When she saw it was Saden, she let out a breath but kept her hand where it was. His tone carried all the anger that clouded his expression and darkened his eyes.

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  He remained still for several seconds before relaxing his posture and leaning on the doorframe. She could smell sweat and nature on him through the scent of his leather coat.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

  When his eyes flicked to the knife at her waist, she slowly put her hand down. “Not afraid. Just cautious.” His low chuckle seemed to resonate through his entire frame. She compared his face again to the man in the photo. “These are your parents, aren’t they?”

  There was another significant pause. “They were leisonguardes. Two of the best in the house of Avram.”

  Leisonguardes. Vampyre warriors. Protectors of their kind against other demon races. A measure of relief swept through her at the knowledge that Saden had been born a Vampyre. Of all the demon races, she was most familiar with that one, and not solely due to Gabriel. She knew they, as a whole, respected the value of human life and followed the law of their gods—that no human shall be harmed by demonkind. That conviction was second only to the value they placed on family.

  The fact that Saden’s parents were warriors explained the weapons practice room next door. “This was their house.”

  Saden put his back to the wall and slid down to his haunches, resting his arms on his knees. “My father built it himself for my mother. He had the gift of working with minerals. He could manipulate them with his aethra to alter the shape and texture of the natural elements they’re found in, like wood and stone. He crafted this manor and everything in it. The walls, the furniture and floors. They’d planned on retiring here.”

  She recalled what she knew of a Vampyre’s aethra, its soul and source of power unique to each individual. A Vampyre’s very essence, containing all the talents and intuition of the Vampyre itself. The aethra could be manifested into a form of pure energy and used to perform tasks dependent upon the Vampyre’s proclivities. It resembled a human’s natural inclination toward fields such as art, machinery, insight into others and so on.

  The aethra was also the reason Vampyres needed to feed. Unlike a human’s spirit, the aethra was not self-sustaining. It required a constant replenishment of the energy that was expended through its power.

  For the most part, Vampyres chose to feed from their own kind. Their bodies naturally produced excess energy during heightened states of intense emotions, such as joy and pleasure, which they could then share with each other. Pairings with other demon races, even humans, were rare but not impossible. She knew that when stimulated, a human could generate sufficient amounts of energy for a Vampyre to absorb.

  Intense fear had been Gabriel’s favorite emotion to induce in order to feed.

  She forced that thought away and flipped through more pages until she saw a small boy with the couple. He was laughing in many of the pictures with dark unruly curls and expressive eyes. Later, a baby joined them. “You had a brother.”

  “She was my sister.”

  Daneya nodded. “And what happened to them?” She already knew the answer. The entire manor was shrouded in absence and loss. Yet, she needed to hear it. How such a loving family could end with only emptiness.

  “My parents were killed in our war… Their war with the Djinn,” he corrected himself.

  His voice held a depth of suffering that made her shiver, but when she looked up, his face was set in a hard mask.

  “My sister and I were taken in by a relative after that. This house lay untouched for years before I was able to purchase it.”

  Daneya studied him for long seconds, a part of her heart breaking over the tragedy of his past. She didn’t have to imagine what it felt like to have parents who were ripped away. To be torn from a loving home and placed under the care of strangers. She’d lived that life twice over and still remembered the pain of it keenly. Her sister had been there to pull her through most of it, but then she’d died as well. Leaving Daneya with nothing. Not even a house full of forgotten memories.

  The thought triggered another question she had. “How did you buy this place? I thought Drakons lived in the Drakonem realm.”

  “Many of my targets are wealthy. I take only what they no longer need. It took me three years to save up enough to buy the land.”

  She couldn’t hold back a sneer of disgust. “You scavenge from your victims?” In the back of her mind, she chastised herself for being surprised. The man had committed a crime worthy of making him a Drakon. It was probably in his nature to take what he wanted. Yet, she’d expected more from him.

  His laugh was rough and cynical. “Yes, and I kill without remorse. I steal for greed and live like a king in this mansion of riches. Is that what you want to hear?” Strands of hair fell over his eyes as he shook his head. “The bank my parents took a loan from had foreclosed on the property. The manor and everything in it was about to be auctioned off to the highest bidders. I couldn’t stand by and let that happen.”

  A sliver of guilt pierced her for ignoring her instincts and making the wrong assumption about him. Nothing she’d learned of him so far had warranted her animosity. If the roles had been reversed, she’d have done the same to save her family’s possessions. And if the food and shelter he provided for her and her loved ones now was paid for by lowlifes like Messing, who was she to argue?

  But his sarcasm had stabbed her pride, and before she could think better of it, she asked, “Would your parents appreciate you staying here if they knew what you’ve become?”

  As soon as the words were out, she wished she could take them back. Her rebuke was petty, whether he deserved it or not.

  A range of emotions played across his handsome features. That she’d wounded him was most apparent, and it magnified the guilt that clenched her chest. By the time she opened her mouth to apolo
gize, he was calm again. And more distant than ever.

  “Go back to sleep, leisontee. You need your strength.” He stood up and left as silently as he’d come.

  Daneya sat for a while longer, immersed in the tangle of her emotions. Saden was far more dangerous than she’d first suspected, and not because of what he was. He confused her and contradicted the very sense of moral justice she’d built her life upon. The line between good and evil was clear, the two sides as opposite as black and white. Yet he was introducing a gray area she couldn’t deny.

  How could someone with such good intentions like his have fallen so far from grace? And if she could no longer label him a monster, did that mean she could trust him?

  She put the photo album away then went back to her room. Sleep eluded her for several more hours after that. The hurt on Saden’s face plagued her thoughts and was still fresh in her mind when she awoke the next morning.

  Chapter Six

  Phoenix relaxed on his perch in the rafters of the vast opera hall. Below him, the singers had just started their performance of Les Misérables, capturing the attention of their audience. He closed his eyes and listened to the harmonic quality of their voices. They rose and echoed off the cavernous walls, joined by the fluidic melodies of the band.

  Inside him, he could feel Sasha stirring, emerging from her cocoon of self-isolation. The opera was the only thing she truly responded to anymore. She loved the freedom it inspired through expression. The way the music told of beautiful and tragic stories with the emotions it invoked.

  While she never took control of his body to watch the performances, she could feel the experience through him. Phoenix came here as often as he could just to feel her joy flow through him. He would do anything for his little Djinn.

  Theirs was a symbiotic relationship, though it differed considerably from the kind a Djinn normally shared with its host.