Stryke (New Vampire Disorder Book 4) Page 2

  Zoey recognized the vampire. They’d grown up not far from each other, though Zoey hadn’t dealt much with her. Doriana had been a mousy, quiet thing. Why would she turn her body over to a demon to possess? And which demon?

  Zoey ran through the list of thirteen. She’d learned their names from Fyra, but they had yet to learn who’d taken Rancor’s spot. The thirteen always hid inside a host, would never demean themselves by bonding to a vampire so they could walk freely in this realm. Besides, what got killed in this realm stayed in this realm, a possibility they’d never risk. Cowards.

  Still, they needed the host’s permission, or coercion, to enter, and Doriana had given it up. But to which demon?

  Zoey filtered a deep breath through her senses. She knew this demon. She’d been the one inhabiting Morgana when that rabid bitch had almost bested Zoey in a bathroom.

  “We meet again,” Zoey said. And who was the demon talking about? Who wanted Zoey?

  The vampire stopped and her black eyes swept Zoey’s body in disdain. “That’s what gets him off, huh?”

  Zoey shook her head. Had the demon lost her damn mind? “Who the hell are you talking about?”

  “As if you don’t know. As if a romance between a vampire and a demon would escape our notice.”

  Demons were evil and crazy, but could they be genuinely nuts? Zoey needed to at least find out what demon she was dealing with and report back to her team. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  “Look at these.” The vampire palmed her breasts and looked down with a frown. “My real breasts are much larger, but even this female’s bust is a handful more than yours.”

  Zoey bristled at the insult. “There’s nothing wrong with an athletic build. And since you possessed Morgana the last time we met, you heard her taunts about my mate being dead.”

  She was about to say, There’s no male after me, but the words died unspoken. The sense of anticipation she’d been stricken with for weeks couldn’t have anything to do with what the insane demon was talking about. Maybe she’d just been widowed so long, she was in a lonely, perpetual state of wishful thinking.

  Zoey turned her attention back to information gathering. Fyra had named the Circle demon who’d possessed Morgana during their encounter. Hypna.

  Surprise brightened Doriana’s demon-black eyes. The vampire was present in body only; Hypna had full control. “You don’t know?”

  Sour dread laced through Zoey. That question coming from a demon wasn’t the start to a good day. More footsteps resonated in the night and the smell of brimstone grew thicker. Were the demon’s second-tier servants coming after Zoey? They had to be in hosts, too.

  “You don’t know.” Hypna threw her head back and laughed. Her laughter died and she met Zoey’s gaze with a Cheshire-cat smile. “This will be fun.”

  No, it won’t. Zoey raised her gun and shot Hypna between the eyes. The vampire’s eyes lost focus and she dropped backward to the ground. Zoey cursed herself for not packing a stake to dust the vampire with, but she jumped on the fallen vampire and started sawing at her neck with the knife.

  The footsteps grew faster as Hypna’s minions rushed to her aid.

  Damn vertebrae. Decapitating a vampire would be so much easier if they didn’t have spines. Zoey sucked in a breath to smell her attackers. Human sweat and sulfur. No other vampires. Zoey made a mental note to inform her team that another broker had set up in the area to lure humans into being hosts for second-tier demons.

  As they approached, three of them lumbering down the alley to block her in, she was grateful second-tiers weren’t strong enough to inhabit vampires, much less the more powerful and wealthy primes. She could deal with them in multiples.

  “Don’t worry, vampire. We’re not going to kill you,” one male said.

  “Just play with you for a while.”

  Their mistake. Cops would be showing up soon, thanks to the sound of the first gunshot, so Zoey made her next shots count.

  Bam, bam, bam. Three head shots followed by clouds of copper-tinged air. There. No more demons to trouble her.

  She holstered her gun so she could use both hands to saw the prime female’s neck off. She couldn’t be allowed to heal and keep hosting one of the thirteen.

  The groan of a portal to the underworld echoed off the brick buildings around her. The demons were getting sucked back home now that their hosts were dead. She hacked harder, the vampire much harder to kill. Stealing Hypna’s host was worth flirting with the sucking chasm that was opening under the bodies of the three humans, but if Zoey didn’t move fast, she’d be taken down, too. She was far enough away from the second-tier’s portals but right on top of Hypna’s.

  Almost. Done.

  With a holler, she chopped through the bone and shoved herself backward as far as she could.

  The vacuum of the portal tugged on her clothing. Zoey gritted her teeth and tensed all her muscles to resist the force. Her body slid an inch toward the ink-black opening.

  She was out of the way of the humans’ already closing portals, but the vibrations of the portal sucking Hypna back into the underworld had Zoey scrambling until she hit a wall. The force of the portal kicked up debris and trash, and the creak of the Dumpster next to her was deafening. Her only instinct was to get as far away as fast as possible.

  Until she bumped into another Dumpster. The pull on her feet dragged her toward the portal.

  Her stomach twisted in growing terror mixed with determination. She clawed against the ground, but her fingernails did little to gain traction.

  She kicked, but it only propelled her toward the portal.

  She only needed to last a few more seconds and the chasm would close, but as she scraped across the pavement, every second felt like a minute.

  Frantically, she wrestled a knife free and slammed it into the pavement. The scrape of metal across cement curdled her eardrums.

  Nothing was working.

  The lumbering screech of a Dumpster made her look up. It was rolling right for her as it got sucked into the underworld.

  Her last thought before she face-planted with the giant trash receptacle was, He’s here.

  Chapter Two

  Stryke zapped the last vestiges of roots and concentrated on his no-longer-secret bond to his vampire. He appeared at Zoey’s location, in his own form thanks to their link, and reacted without thinking.

  A Dumpster had plowed into Zoey and was pushing her into a portal. He lunged and tackled her, wrapping his arms around anything he could get ahold of. The Dumpster flew into the portal as he and Zoey rolled clear.

  With a snap, the opening shut. Silence descended.

  Zoey hung limp in his arms. He glanced around. Four blood spots on the concrete. He sniffed. One prime female, three human males, all demon-possessed.

  He glanced at Zoey. She’d killed four hosts and sent four demons back to their realm, but she’d gotten taken out by a Dumpster.

  A smile twitched his lips. Just her luck.

  Sweet brimstone, he’d missed her. Looked like they were actually going to officially meet. And she was going to hate him for linking himself to her.

  Barely healed himself, he managed to stand while cradling her to his chest. Sirens blared in the distance. With one hand, he searched for her keys and found them in her jacket pocket.

  He staggered out of the alley. All the businesses were closed this time of night, but people were home in the apartments above the offices. Humans peered out of upper-level windows. Stryke knew what they’d see: a tall, naked man, covered in blood, carrying an unconscious woman. At least his horns were covered by his hair, so he had that going for him.

  He opened the SUV and gently laid Zoey inside. He crawled over her and into the driver’s seat instead of going around the outside. She got a face full of his junk, but she was passed out and couldn’t hold it against him. When she came to, she’d have issues with much more than getting squished against his bare body.

  He stomped on the
gas and sped off, heading for his human host’s house. Lee wasn’t expecting him, but it wouldn’t matter. The kid was at a weak point in his life, which had made him easy to possess in the first place. When Stryke had had to step out of Lee’s body one too many times and the young man had seen him in his true form, Stryke had used the opportunity to order the stunned man to take care of himself. As a result, Lee welcomed Stryke’s interference in his sad, lonely life.

  Lee was just one of the many mistakes Stryke had made in his long life. The human was growing too attached, but Stryke just kept dispensing advice. He’d have to sever ties with the human and move onto a host who was less…needy. Despite the bond to Zoey that allowed him to roam this realm in his own form, he’d been using hosts. His real form was too distinct to blend among humans and other demons would know instantly he was bonded to someone in the realm. But Stryke hadn’t considered Lee growing dependent on him. His error.

  The unconscious female slumped in the passenger seat was another miscalculation.

  She was supposed to have been a pawn. Stryke’s mission was to use her and her mate to gather information. But Stryke hadn’t taken into account how much her mate had loved her, unconditionally.

  Stryke had grudgingly compared it to his own dedication to his ill-begotten sire. After the way Stryke had grown up, the big, burly male who’d thrown Stryke a few morsels to keep from starving had commanded Stryke’s utter devotion.

  But Stryke’s diluted blood hadn’t sat well with the other twelve when they’d learned Burhn was his sire. Because how could Stryke be a lowly second-tier demon if both parents were pure? Two pure-bloods didn’t make a half-breed.

  The rest of the Circle had made his sire pay dearly for the embarrassment before they’d killed him—while Stryke could do nothing but watch.

  A stately house approached. Lee’s parents were wealthy and always out of the country, and they left the care of the three-story monstrosity to their boy, who they always left behind. Stryke might order the kid to paint the place. Canary yellow might’ve been in style thirty years ago, but it was atrocious by today’s standards. Stryke’s eyes, used to the dark and dank underworld, throbbed whenever he looked at it. White paint on the trim had long ago peeled away, reflecting the way Lee’s parents had treated their son.

  Snow crunched under the car’s tires but wasn’t deep enough to hinder the SUV. Stryke swerved to miss an ornate birdbath and parked behind the shed alongside the trees that surrounded the house.

  Stryke jumped out and ran around to gather Zoey into his arms. Cold nipped at his feet. His natural store of energy shrank deep into his body, making the bite on his skin much more acute.

  Zoey groaned and Stryke picked up the pace. Jogging to the house, he ran through his plan. Hypna might think she could find Stryke easily enough, but he could wield his energy like no other, including concealing it. But it wasn’t foolproof. She was one of the thirteen and not to be underestimated. While her other second-tier minions would struggle to locate him, she might track him herself.

  After she found another prime to host her. Stryke smiled grimly to himself. Hypna was probably throwing the world’s biggest tantrum in the underworld at being bested by Zoey. Had the demoness discovered he’d escaped his bonds yet? The roots hadn’t been easy to wrestle out of, but focusing his energy like a laser searing through his skin, he’d burned through them. How’d the Circle think his dad had gotten his name?

  A light on the back porch flicked on and Lee peeked out the window, his avid gaze more appropriate for a five-year-old than for a twenty-one-year-old. When Lee’s gaze landed on Stryke and his female load, he whipped the door open.

  Excitement and curiosity flooded Lee’s expression. “What can I do?”

  Stryke’s corrupted heart sank. The kid liked to be useful, needed. Human hosts didn’t have the best survival rate and Stryke’s guilt ratcheted a little higher every time he used the boy. Even with his bond outed by Hypna, a ready host would be handy, but the more he used Lee, the harder it was to think of Lee getting hurt. He’d have to cut the kid loose.

  “Get my bag.” Stryke stepped in with Zoey and beelined straight to a main-level guest room.

  The room, like the house, was stuck in the past. Faded, floral curtains hung limply from a rod, and the matching bedspread wasn’t in any better shape. The carpet wasn’t shag, but pink wasn’t a good color no matter the decade in Stryke’s opinion.

  He laid Zoey on the bed. The lump on her head was already going down and she’d wake soon.

  Lee dashed into the room and threw the black bag at Stryke. Stryke appreciated the hustle and it was probably the most activity Lee had gotten all day.

  No, that was no longer correct. Lee’s ashen skin had taken on a healthier glow. It wasn’t yet robust human flesh, but it looked like he actually got off the couch once in a while. Life filled the boy’s eyes like Stryke hadn’t seen unless he was possessing him and looking in a mirror.

  Humans didn’t often surprise him, but this one had. When Stryke had first sensed Lee’s weak will, his only thought had been “Bingo!” A rich human whose family didn’t give a shit about him, who didn’t hold down a job, but who had a house and vehicle for him to use? Hell, yes.

  But once he’d manipulated Lee’s energy so he could gain access without the boy’s acquiescence, he’d been staggered by the boy’s inner pain. Lee was lumpy and frumpy and he hated himself more than even demons hated…everything.

  The first time Stryke had to step out of him and use his own form to help Fyra, Lee hadn’t been horrified. Confused, awed, but not scared. Every time he’d used Lee as a host after that, the human had oozed feelings of usefulness and willingness.

  Between possessions, Stryke had maybe thrown out a few suggestions for the guy. Move more. Eat less. Wash your clothes.

  Lee had taken to the advice as quickly as his metabolism had burned through his first bag of baby carrots.

  Guilt about Lee’s safety welled and Stryke stuffed it down. He’d throw his best friend into the fire if it served his needs. And he had, in a way. If he went as far as calling Fyra a friend, then she was his best friend—his only friend. They’d both been Rancor’s servants, but her moxie had endeared her to Stryke long before she’d straight-up betrayed Rancor, then killed him. To be fair, he’d also thrown Fyra a lifeline after he’d turned her over to a furious Rancor. And she hadn’t died, had she? Her big, blond vampire had rushed in to save her and Rancor had never guessed that Stryke was a traitor.

  Stryke yanked out his warded cuffs and bound Zoey’s wrists. The cuffs would hold against her superior vampire strength and prevent her from flashing away. Then he stripped her of all her weapons lest they get used against him or Lee. On one of Stryke’s last visits, he’d warded Lee’s house against vampires flashing in and out and against as much demon interaction as possible. But the Circle never shared all of their secrets, so he wasn’t filled with confidence. Demons were like lawyers—masters of loopholes.

  Zoey squirmed and moaned.

  “Leave us,” Stryke ordered and Lee scurried out, closing the door behind him.

  He straightened over Zoey and waited. Her lovely brown eyes blinked open. They were glassier than he’d expected and the fatigue radiating off her concerned him. She’d gone head-to-head with a giant metal bin, but she was a prime female, the strongest of their kind. Although in the last few decades, Stryke had started equating prime with rich. Primes were predominantly old vampire families who lorded their power and money over the rest of their kind.

  So why the long recovery?

  Her gaze landed on him and swept over his body. Her eyes briefly widened and dammit, he hadn’t had time to dress. Then she narrowed her eyes on his face and inhaled.

  “Demon.” Her voice was hard, but it sent shivers up and down his spine.

  “Zohana.” He used her full name. Mitchell always had, but to Stryke, Zoey fit her so much better.

  Her jaw clenched, and she tried sitting up but collaps
ed back. A string of curses left her when she spied the cuffs on her wrists. “You bastard.”

  Stryke sat on the bed next to her and palpated up and down her torso. “Why are you not healed?”

  His hands were on her. The bond within him sighed at her proximity. What’d she feel?

  She gasped and tried to wriggle free. Her pupils dilated briefly, but her anger won over. “Don’t touch me.”

  Ah, she wasn’t unaffected either. He couldn’t help his chuckle.

  She went still. “You’re crazy.”

  She tried to hide her panting, but her lips parted. Why was she breathing hard?

  His worry climbed another notch. It wasn’t a reaction to him, but because of her health. “Why are you so drawn?”

  Her mouth snapped shut and her nostrils flared. She kicked at him, but he easily batted her leg away. It landed with a thump.

  He gripped her chin in his hand. “Why? Tell me.”

  ***

  Zoey trembled. How humiliating, to be weak and fragile in front of a virile, devastating… demon.

  Demons should not look this good. Or smell this divine. Was he covered in his own blood? Shouldn’t that be a turnoff? And how had she gotten here?

  Where was here? She gave up exerting the effort to control her shivers. The seizures would start soon and she’d be completely at his mercy.

  But she already had been and she was out of the alley and tucked away in a… Gawd, this place was unreal. It actually looked like Betty’s room in the compound. Demetrius’s aged assistant had scattered obsessions from various centuries, but the last one enamored her the most.

  Zoey struggled to keep her eyes open. Always so tired when she let it go this far.

  If the demon had something nefarious in store—and duh, demon—then she wasn’t any worse off making her request.

  “Gatorade,” she mumbled. “My backpack.” Her eyelids weighed heavy. His ruggedly handsome face scrunched in confusion at her request.

  “What’s with you and the Gatorade?” He pushed off the bed and strode to the door.