Candace Steele Vampire Killer 03 - Eternal Hunger.pdf - Dean Cameron (Candace Steele Vampire Killer) - riochin

Eternal Hunger

by Cameron Dean

Eternal Hunger is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are

used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

A Ballantine Books Mass Market Original

Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random

House, Inc., New York.

BALLANTINE and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

eISBN-13: 978-0-345-49521-1

eISBN-10: 0-345-49521-7

www.ballantinebooks.com

v1.0

For Sharon and Dana. Eternal love.

One

It was a stormy night.

I live in Vegas, so I can’t exactly claim that it was dark, too. I can, however, say this much.

There’s better weather in Hell.

The rain came down in solid sheets, the drops just short of hail but still hard enough to sting with cold. The wind was straight out of

a late-night horror film, an unseen force that should not be sentient but still manages to have a mind of its own; pushing against me

with invisible hands, tearing at my clothing, howling through the city like a long-lost soul. It was the sort of night when anyone with

half a brain cranks up the knob on the gas fireplace, slips their favorite DVD into the machine, and curls up on the couch.

So what was I doing? I was pounding the streets of Vegas, soaked to the skin, tracking someone who probably thought the

weather was nice.

My name is Candace Steele and I hunt vampires.

Usually I do this indoors. I work undercover security at one of the newest casinos in town, the Scheherazade. I look like a

thousand other females in Vegas, serving drinks and flashing some skin. But in fact I’m one of a kind. Because while I’m making

my rounds, I’m also doing something else: spotting vampires. Getting them tossed out on their undead asses if they try to cheat the

casino by manipulating the minds of the humans around them, a technique vampires call “establishing rapport.” This happens to be

something they enjoy. A lot. Trying to get the better of humans, I mean. Which pretty much means my job is never dull.

It doesn’t make my days off uninteresting, either. And it definitely explains what I was doing out in the weather on this awful night.

The original plan was to go to a movie. I almost got there, too, actually ducking under the cover of the theater awning. Then I felt it:

a surge of cold straight down my back—one I knew damn well had nothing to do with the storm.

There was a vampire nearby.

I concentrated, trying to zero in on my own sensations. The cold felt odd, somehow. Usually when I sense a vampire is near, once

the cold kicks in, it’s a constant presence. The intensity of the cold tells me the strength of the vampire. But this time the cold faded

in and out in a strange sort of ebb and flow. Each time it returned, it got a little stronger, almost as if it were being reinforced.

Oh, God, I thought. Oh, no. There is just one way for a vampire to reinforce its power: by consuming the blood of something alive.

Unless I very much missed my guess, the something alive in this case was a human being. And it wouldn’t be alive for very much

longer.

In spite of human fears and assumptions to the contrary, not all vampires feed on human beings. Only those in the upper echelons,

the big guns. Or, on occasion, lower-level vampires with special permission from the higher-ups. I didn’t think the vampire whose

trail I was attempting to pick up at the moment was one of those. The cold was too intense, too strong. I left the movie theater,

following the cold beyond it to the corner, then took an involuntary step back as the wind shoved me. A sudden splatter of

raindrops pelted across my face like a handful of thrown pebbles. They stung.

By now my adrenaline was starting to kick in as my vampire-hunting instincts took over. I didn’t know yet whether I’d be in time to

save tonight’s human victim, but I could at least promise one thing by way of consolation: I’d make sure the vampire didn’t make it,

either. There would be one less bloodsucker before the night was done.

As if on cue, there was a flash of lightning, a clap of thunder almost directly overhead, and then the rain came down even harder. I

flipped up the collar on my jacket in a feeble attempt to keep the rain from streaming down the back of my neck, slid one of the

silver wands I always use to help control my wayward hair into my jacket pocket, and kept on going, hot on the trail of the cold.

Vampire Hunter Rule #1: Never, under any circumstances, go out into the world unarmed. Rule #2: When in doubt, make silver

your weapon of choice. Silver is a purifier. A little goes a long way when it comes to vampires.

By the time I reached the far end of the block, I was completely soaked. The wind was so strong I had to lean into it, as if walking

up an incline. But the internal cold I felt still pulled me forward, steady as a lodestone. I crossed the street, stepped up onto the

curb, and saw the vampire.

He was young—not more than early twenties—and wearing a muscle T-shirt and skintight jeans that had probably been plastered

to his body even before the rain got to them and finished the job. As he stepped out from under the cover of a parking garage not

twenty paces away, oblivious to the weather, he looked entirely too pleased with himself, with his own power. New kid on the

block, I thought. On a feeding high. His eyes slid over me, barely registering my presence. I felt my adrenaline kick up a notch.

My biggest weapon in my fight against vampires isn’t anything I carry with me, anything external. It’s me. The fact that,

unaccustomed to humans being able to detect what they are, most vampires literally never see me coming.

As if to prove he was no different from the rest, the vampire in question pivoted on one black-booted heel and began to walk

away; his arrogance and enjoyment of his own power showing in every step. It might have been a balmy summer night for all the

notice he took of the weather. I waited until he was half a block away, then sprinted for the entrance to the parking garage.

The interior was dark as a tomb, appropriate considering the fact that it was now the temporary resting place of something no

longer alive. I moved past the entrance, stopped, turned back, swore viciously as the wind blew against me and the rain came

down. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to follow the vampire. Don’t lose sight of the quarry. Don’t let the enemy get

away. But if I did that, I would do precisely the same thing the vampire had: I’d put him first, and the human being second. That

was a choice I simply could not make and still face myself in the morning. Before I could run the vampire to ground, I had to make

absolutely certain I knew the fate of the human being he had left behind.

Well, shit, I thought. “Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered under my breath as I ducked into the parking garage. At least I was out of the

rain. I gave the lapels of my jacket a quick shake to lose as much water as I could, then fished my keys out of my pocket,

activating the mini-flashlight that hangs on the end of the chain. It didn’t exactly illuminate a lot of area, but even a little was better

than nothing.

It was the cards that helped me find her. You see them all over Vegas, littering the sidewalks like X-rated confetti. Experience the

Best of Vegas. Full service 24/7. I found a whole pile of them at the end of the first row of cars, all with the same picture on them.

A slim, young blonde with a phone number covering her naked, upthrust breasts. Her eyes were on the camera, but her head was

thrown back, exposing a long, white neck. A choice that had probably seemed sexy at the time. Nichole, the card read. Blond.

Sweet. Very Petite.

Also, very, very dead.

She was sprawled across the hood of the last car in the row, spread-eagled on her back, skirt hiked up to expose her thighs. A

position that left little doubt as to how vampire guy had talked her into ducking in here in the first place. Her big blue eyes were

wide open and sightless. Her face was still beautiful, but her long white neck was a mess. I could say it was a bloody mess, but that

would be a lie. There wasn’t a drop of blood, not anywhere. A circumstance that would no doubt convince the cops, when they

finally arrived, that sweet, petite Nichole had been killed somewhere else, then dumped in the parking garage. But I knew better. I

knew the truth. She had been killed precisely where she lay, by a killer who had taken every single drop of blood he could get his

fangs on.

It wasn’t until I saw the beam of the flashlight waver that I realized I was crying and shaking with pain and outrage. I guessed

Nichole was no older than eighteen. That undead SOB had treated this girl like a fast-food meal and then threw away the wrapper

that was her body. I couldn’t save her. I was way too late for that. But I could get even—for her, for all of us who live and breathe.

I could still make him pay.

I took another thirty seconds to place an anonymous call to 911. I resisted the impulse to lean over and ease her eyelids closed.

Then I went back out into the storm.

* * * * *

I picked up the vampire’s trail about three blocks away. Either I’d taken less time in the parking garage than I’d feared, or this

vampire wasn’t in much of a hurry. By the time I made it back outside, the rain had slacked off a little, as if the cloud carrying the

initial burst had moved on. Thank God for small favors. But the wind was still bitterly cold. The vampire kept to the secondary

streets, off the Strip, strutting like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, really reveling in his power, feeling his oats. It would

have been laughable if the reason for his behavior hadn’t made me so angry. And if I wasn’t so damned wet and cold. My jeans

clung to my legs like leeches. The inside of my thighs felt raw where the thick fabric rubbed them. My socks sloshed inside my

boots with every step I took.

For ten endless blocks, I trailed the vampire until I wanted to take him out for no other reason than to take myself out of the wet

and the cold. Come on, I urged him silently. Make your move, you undead creep. Turn off. Show me where you’re going. The

street we were on was still way too public to risk a confrontation, even given the storm.

Do something, Candace, I thought. Stop following him like some lovesick schoolgirl and make something happen. If the

vampire wasn’t going to give me the opportunity I wanted, I was just going to have to make one of my own.

I quickened my pace, sliding a second wand of silver from my hair, tucking it into my left-hand jacket pocket. I had a silver spike

ready and waiting for either hand now. At once, soggy curls flopped down into my eyes. Through them, I could see the vampire

pausing on the corner beneath a streetlight, waiting for the signal to change. I felt a bubble of laughter rise inside my chest; I fought it

down. He had no trouble ripping some girl’s throat out, but he obeyed the traffic laws. I picked up my pace again. I was running

now, my feet heavy against the rain-slicked sidewalk.

Come on, I urged him. Hear me coming.

Precisely as if obeying my command, he turned around. I let my momentum carry me forward, crashing into him, clutching at him as

if he were a lifeline. I pulled him around the corner, onto the side street.

“Oh, thank goodness,” I sobbed out. “I’m so glad I found someone.”

“Whoa,” the vampire said, and then smiled. In the time it had taken our bodies to connect, he had come to the conclusion I posed

no threat. How could I? I was only human, after all. Sure, I could have just nailed him right away and been done with it, but that

wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to toy with him a little, work him around to just one moment when he could see the end of his

existence coming. See it and be powerless to stop it. It wasn’t much to offer sweet, petite Nichole, but I had to figure it was better

than nothing.

“I’m being followed. I think I’m being followed,” I gasped out, letting my words tumble over one another even as I leaned into him.

I felt his arm snake around my waist to hold me close. If anyone saw us, we’d look like two sweethearts hurrying to get out of the

rain.

“Please, you’ve got to help me,” I pleaded. “I’m new to Vegas. I’m just a tourist. I got lost—in the storm—I lost my way.” I began

to pull at him, urging him away from the street corner as if expecting my pursuer to burst into view at any minute. My goal was the

center of the block, where the spill from the streetlights left a dark band of shadow.

“Of course I’ll help you,” the vampire said. “Woman like you shouldn’t be on her own. Vegas can be a dangerous town. But you

don’t have to worry. You can trust me.”

In a pig’s eye, I thought.

“Oh, thank you,” I sobbed out. I stopped moving, dropped my head against his chest as if overwhelmed with relief. “You can’t

imagine what it feels like to find somebody kind. I’ve been so frightened. You have no idea.”

“First thing we do is get you out of the rain,” he said. “And out of those wet clothes.”

You are such an asshole, I thought. Pouring down rain, damsel in distress, and what do you do? You hit on her.

I giggled then, as if he had actually said something original, and gave a shiver that insinuated me a little closer to his body. I couldn’t

exactly claim I pressed my breasts against his chest, considering they were covered by my jacket, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.

“I just feel so confused,” I confessed. “Like I’m having a panic attack or something. I can’t even remember which is the way to my

hotel. If I could just be somewhere safe, I’m sure I’d get my bearings back. I’m just so scared, so cold.”

“Not to worry,” the vampire said easily. “My place isn’t far.”

It never is, I thought.

“What if he’s seen us?” I exclaimed suddenly. I jerked backward, out of the vampire’s arms. Instantly, he reached for me, but I

scooted out of range. I was in the darkest part of the block now. I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging my elbows, then slid

my right hand down and into my jacket pocket. “I could get you in trouble. You might even get hurt. I couldn’t bear it if that

happened. I would never forgive myself.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” the vampire said, his voice soothing. He followed me into the shadowy center of the block.

He reached for me again, and this time I let him bring me close. Palming the silver, I wrapped my arms around his back. He tilted

my face up, brushed the water from my cheeks. “Trust me. I can handle anything that comes along.”

“Can you really?” I asked, my voice breathless, as if we were standing together on a night drenched with moonlight instead of wind

and rain. I watched the cockiness come into his face.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing,” he said.

I slid my hand up his back, and jammed the silver straight into the side of his neck.

“You know what?” I said. “You’re absolutely right.”

I had it then—the moment I’d been waiting for. His eyes went wide with horrified comprehension, his mouth made a round O of

astonishment and pain. And then he crumbled into dust.

As I watched him disintegrate, I heard a sound. Behind me. Sibilant, leathery, vaguely familiar, but not readily identifiable. And then

there were strong hands against the small of my back, shoving me forward with brutal force, propelling my body straight into the

wall of the closest building. Fingers wrapped themselves around my wrist—the hand that still held the silver—slamming it up against

the building once, twice, three times. I heard a sharp crack, felt a searing pain, cried out even as I heard the silver clatter to the

sidewalk. In the next instant, the hands released my wrist to tangle in my sodden hair, propelling my head forward against the

building so hard that I saw stars. Blood erupted from my nose.

Cold, I thought. I’m so very, very cold.

I knew then what I would see as my attacker spun me back around. He shook me, my head flopping, my neck as limp as a rag

doll’s.

“Look at me. Look at me, you stupid little bitch,” a voice rapped out.

I looked. And found myself staring straight into a second vampire’s eyes. Dark as midnight, as the lowest level of Hell. In them, I

saw precisely what he wanted me to see: my own death.

Sheer instinct took over then as adrenaline flooded through me, pushing back even the bone-chilling cold. I was Candace Steele.

Candace Steele Vampire Killer 03 - Eternal Hunger.pdf

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