BIG GAME - Chapter One
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BIG GAME
Chapter One
Vivian
The soft hum of the jet fades into the background noise of the small cabin. Rafe exits the cockpit and locks eyes with me across the tight space. His rugged face carries a tired grin and his blue eyes look weary. He's been flying through the daylight hours as we make our way down the globe to Argentina, where our final destination is a small private island off the southern coast.
His muscular form, encased in well-worn jeans and a snug black t-shirt, looks as delicious as ever. Worry pinches my husband's expression as he heads back to my location opposite the plane's bar. Chelly, lounging on a chocolate chenille couch, shifts her attention up from her ereader—more than likely trying to catch a last glimpse of Drew who took over flying duties. She deflates a little when she sees Rafe and goes back to her book. Her long blond hair hides her expression from me, but I'm sure I'd see a hint of longing on her face.
She and Drew, the one hundred and fifty year old vampire who came to our resort as a guest last fall before joining our seethe, began dating this winter. Now, he only feeds directly from her, taking bagged blood for extra nutrition when needed. To my knowledge, he still has not claimed her and exchanged blood to make her his companion. His old-fashioned ways have made for a cute courtship display, but I doubt Chelly can take much more of the long tease. She looked ready to snap and jump his bones on the spot when he invited her on this trip.
Bob, one of our ground crew, plays cards with Tommy, our imported Aussie who mans the inn's front desk, and fledgling vampire, Paul. The three sit around a table set between four seats facing each other with intense looks on their faces and examine their hands. Their voices are pitched low, but every once in a while their excited chatter over a hand becomes loud. Tommy glances up as Rafe walks by. The sandy-haired man folds his cards and slips into the aisle behind my husband.
Rafe leans down and kisses my cheek before settling into the club chair next to mine. A half glass of red wine sits on the round cocktail table bolted through the cream carpet in front of our seats. In honor of our destination, I've changed from the Alaskan vampire favorite of hot coffee to South American wines. It wouldn't be acceptable for me to appear uncouth at any Tribunal gatherings by holding a coffee mug instead of a crystal goblet filled with bloodwine. But I admit, I do miss the caffeine jolt.
"Tired, darling?" I ask.
"Yeah." A heavy sigh escapes him as he runs a hand across his forehead and back over his short light brown hair. "Flying through the last storm was a challenge. Head winds slowed us down quite a bit."
"Can I get you something, sir?" Tommy asks from our right, standing behind the glistening marble-topped bar.
"A Yuengling, thanks."
In a moment the beer is poured into an ice-cold pilsner glass and set on the low table. At a nod of appreciation from Rafe, Tommy heads back to his game.
Rafe stares at the amber liquid and remains still. "I'm worried, Dria."
"I know."
"The talk with the seethe regarding your manipulator abilities went well, but you know it won't be the same with the Ancients."
"Yes, they took it surprisingly well." I stifle a smile at the reminder of Paul's confusion and mini-freak out. Asa, our ex-military vamp, just nodded as if confirming something he suspected and Drew listened in silence. He pledged his loyalty again with the others easy enough, showing no hesitation at the end of the gathering.
Glancing at the shaded window, I debate on raising the covering now that night has fallen. "The idea isn't to tell the Ancients. The plan to arrive earlier than previous years is to surprise them—find out who knows or suspects what I can do."
"And then what? Slip into their minds and alter what they know?" he shakes his head. "It's too risky."
"The alternative is to kill them." I lock eyes with Rafe, and see the concern he never tries to hide. "Depending on how many of the Inner Circle we're talking about, that might not be smart."
Rafe grips the chair arms, his frustration and anger quickly outweighs his previous concern. "Twenty-two members of the Inner Circle and eleven Ancients, not to mention an unknown amount of powerful gophers and lackeys on the fringe doing their bidding. Too many variables. I prefer a concentrated and planned attack."
"We've gone over this before, love. What choice do we have? Let them come to us in Alaska? Where we have over a hundred humans in our care?" I shake my head. "I won't put them at risk. Not an option. Besides, we normally head down south when the season changes and it's impossible to run the inn for vamp guests. This early fact-finding mission in Buenos Aires is the best way to go."
"Yes, yes, your 'beard the lion in his den', crap. I get it." He reaches for his beer and drains half the glass before setting it back down. "I worry it's more than just the three members you've speculated on."
Bitter resentment and rage coil in my middle. For years I've hidden my ability and ran from certain death, only to find I've now cornered myself in a remote location with twelve dozen lives at stake. Flight or fight. That's what any predator would do when left with no options.
"I don't plan on running again." Anger leaks through my tone and the tension in the cabin rises. "The only option left is to infiltrate and bring a stealthy battle to them."
"Won't they be expecting it? Coraline visited back in January. It's foolish to think they haven't done anything in four months."
"If it was me," I say with a deadly smile. "I would have attacked immediately."
"Agreed. So why didn't they?"
"Coraline could have been the main force driving the whole witch hunt after me. With the alterations I did to her psyche, it may have taken her cohorts a while to bring her back up to speed—or even months just to unravel what I did and how I did it. I'm still not sure how they could repair the damage if they weren't able to slip into her mind as well."
"What about that damn charmed brooch? Someone made it for her. Maybe the person is a strong magic user and has countered what you did?"
I speculate on his suggestion for a bit and focus on letting go of my fury. I try to center my thoughts and picture myself mentally moving through a few sun salutations. The yoga moves work, even sitting still. The anger deflates and I focus back around on Rafe's suggestion.
His idea is possible, I suppose, but I've never met a witch or wizard that powerful. Most of them can do what Diane, Dr. Cook's witchy daughter, does back home. She can cast minor spells and contrive complicated charms given enough time and the right ingredients… but a witch with mind powers or the ability to cast a complex spell to counter my mind-altering? I shake my head. Not likely. Could it be a wizard? They have been known to do more mental damage, but their spells are usually quite intricate, having no innate elemental powers like a witch is born with.
"I don't think so," I finally answer. "But, you're right. It could be a option."
Paul, our undead head chef, saunters back toward us. He's become a sleeker version of himself, thanks to the liquid diet, and is now able to keep up with his kids and slim wife much better. He nods to us on his way to the bathroom facilities in the rear of the plane. Whoever said vampires didn't use the can should be shot—seriously, where would all the blood go?
"Smooth flying, Rafe," he says when he emerges from the tiny room, brushing a lock of dark wavy hair off his forehead. "Will I get to add 'pilot' to my growing list of super cool things I know?"
"Ask Drew to teach you," Rafe answers with an easy-going smile. "We've got better facilities in Alaska, but you could probably start on the basics when we arrive in Argentina."
"I'm still bummed Bunny and the kids couldn't come."
"We don't know what we're walking into, Paul," I say. "It wouldn't be wise to bring them."
"Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it. And why did you bring only male donors for me?" he directs toward me. At my sly smile he just laughs. "What, you thought I didn't notice Tommy and Bob were guys?"
"Bunny asked me to make sure you were loyal. No temptation for you while I'm on duty."
Paul looks stricken as he turns to face away from the passengers in the cabin and leans in, speaking low, "What happens when the men start to become tempting?"
"You close your eyes," I whisper, "think of your wife, and jerk off when they leave."
The smile is absent from his jovial face as he nods like he's just received a death sentence. "Okay."
"There is also a large supply of donated blood on ice coming with us. You'll do fine." I reach out and grab his sleeve before he leaves. "You're gaining control, Paul. Getting stronger each day. Don't let the urges get the better of you."
"Think of things if the shoe was on the other foot," Rafe says. "Would you want Bunny spreading her legs every few days when she got hungry?"
Anger colors the cheeks of the good-humored vampire. "No!"
Rafe drains his glass and stands to get another. "Then keep that anger front and center in your brain when you get horny for another person." He slaps Paul on the back as he heads to the bar.
"How do you do it Vivian?" Paul asks. "Do you ever crave another lover?"
My mind flashes to Jonathan, my hunky werewolf servant with the compact wrestler's body who tastes like dark chocolate. I've got ten pints of his blood stashed just for me over the next few months in Argentina. Yum. "You channel it back into passion for your mate. You can't control what your body craves, but you can control what you do about those cravings."
His shoulders slump. "Why is it so hard?"
"Most vampires want the sex and the blood together, it's only as we age we can channel the blood-lust into pure sexual lust." Beeps and a whir of the microwave come from the bar area, indicating Rafe must be getting something to eat.
"You mean, someday I might just want sex from everyone rather than their blood?"
I laugh. "We're talking centuries, Paul. And maybe not sex from everyone, but some days it may feel that way."
"Won't I still need blood?"
"Yes, but not as much. As you age you can feed from other means, like sexual energy." My thoughts turn inward as I remember some of the old vampires I hunted. A few of them fed on fear and pain. When their appetites grew too large and they terrorized too many humans to hide what they'd become the Tribunal of Ancients would discover their actions, sending an enforcer like me to end their madness. "Trust me, Paul. There are a lot worse things in the world to crave energy from."
The smell of corn beef and mustard waft our way, teasing me of times long past in Ireland. Rafe sets a large plate holding a Ruben and chips on the cocktail table and eases back into the chair. "Thanks for making this for me earlier, Paul. It heated up nice, not soggy."
Paul smiles at the praise and heads back to his card game. Bob and Tommy look up at his approach and then back to their hands. I wonder what they are wagering on to make them so serious.
"Do you think the other two men will do okay on the island?" I ask.
Rafe nods, while swallowing a big bite of his sandwich. "They're good guys. Tommy can make sure the rest stay in line; he's pretty good at herding cats and managing without being overbearing. I trust him to anticipate Paul's needs before Paul. Bob can help out when Paul decides to cook—which you know he will—and maybe work with the gardener during the day." He takes another long drink and some of the harsh lines of exhaustion soften from his face. "Our main issue will be the housekeeper's barely legal daughter, doubling this year as a maid."
A smile creases my face as I recall the dark good looks of Rosia. Her eyes snap with life and she knows exactly how to move her hips to attract a man's eye. "Dalton might exert his fatherly protection and insist she work in the gardens with him while we're in attendance."
"Last we spoke, he said Flavia had called her younger twin sisters to stay with them to help out this season."
Picturing the women we've met before, I can't help but feel amusement. They're all as pretty as Dalton's wife and will provide ample distraction for the two men, not to mention a major temptation for Paul when Rafe and I eventually leave for Buenos Aires alone. Chelly's blond and curvy good looks will stand out like a beacon when compared to all the small-breasted exotic looking brunettes.
"Paul might have a hard time resisting Dalton." My eyes dance with humor, teasing my spouse. "He's a suave and sexy guy."
Rafe wipes his mouth carefully with a linen napkin and tosses the fabric on the empty plate. "You've managed to resist him for almost two decades." A warm palm lands on my thigh, caressing one leg through my linen trousers. "However did you cope?"
Heat fills me, burning a path from Rafe's hand to my privates. "I've got this big stud of a husband I ravish daily. Thankfully, the old man doesn't need Viagra yet."
Rafe's laughter booms across the cabin. The four other passengers all glance in our direction, then back to their interests. "All thanks to you, dear, and those magical sips of blood I take every now and then."
I lower my lids when my lover looks my way. "Surely, it can't all be just me?"
Rafe leans in and our lips meet. His soft mouth molds to mine, the tip of his tongue gently begging entrance. I open and he deepens the kiss, plundering my mouth like a starving man at his first meal in weeks. A throaty growl escapes one of us. Could have been me, I've been known to growl once in a while.
A soft electric tingle enters my mind as my husband telepathically speaks to me through our mate-bond. The day I need Viagra to be ready for you, is the day you need to shoot me.
Put the old dog out of his misery, eh? You'll not get rid of me so easily. A warm hand comes up to caress the back of my head and hold me in place while Rafe ravishes my mouth. I pull back when I hear the clearing of a throat in the airplane's cabin. No need to put on a show. Should we head back to the bedroom?
Rafe ends the kiss and stares into my eyes. Sixty-five years together and you still have to ask? Heat fills his gaze and a predatory smile curves his mouth. Get your ass in there or I'll pull a cave man and throw you over my shoulder and carry you back.
A smile curves my lips as I rise from the chair and sashay back to the sleeping cabin down the narrow hallway, feeling the burning gaze of my lover on my backside the entire time. The cell phone clipped to my waist starts to vibrate, with its usual perfectly horrible timing. I answer as I open the privacy door and hear the succinct dulcet tones of my werewolf servant across thousands of miles.
"Have you landed?"
In man-speak that means, "I'm worried you haven't called", so I try my best to swallow the humor in my reply. "No, we haven't."
"What's the hold up? Problem at one of the refueling spots or weather?"
A sigh escapes me as I climb onto the queen sized bed and recline against the upholstered headboard. Rafe closes the door and turns to me with a feral look in his eyes. Without a sound he starts to strip in the dimly lit cabin.
"You guessed it, we hit several storms and the winds were against us."
A muffled hrmph meets me on the other end of the line and I stare at the flesh slowly revealed by my spouse. The hard sculpted planes of his chest come into view and he tosses the shirt at my face—his not so subtle hint to get off the phone.
Rafe stretches his arms over his head, bending them at the elbow to avoid hitting the aircraft's low ceiling and leans to the right and left working his cramped muscles. God, that man has delicious abs. Saliva fills my mouth at the thought of licking the hard ridges of muscle.
"The shifter hunters are starting to land."
What? Oh yeah, I'm still on the damn phone. Jon's referring to the summer guests we have arriving, who plan to hunt Alaska's native game during their stay. The shifter's landing must be what triggered his call; he'll be tied up for the rest of the day. Rafe reaches for the button on his pants and I track every movement of his supple fingers. "Good. Any last minute questions for me, Jon?"
"No. Our mind connection is getting fuzzy. I can't feel much of you in my head."
"I think it's the distance." He should count himself lucky, I doubt he'd want to see my husband getting naked. Then again, knowing Jon's conflicted emotions regarding both of us, he just might enjoy the view. "You'll do fine this summer. We're only a phone call a way if you need us."
"Yeah, and including stops you're almost two days via a plane. I'm not reassured. And for the record, it's not me and the pups I'm worried about. Or even Asa for that matter."
Jon really loves teasing Pat and Eric, our new permanent werewolf members on the resort, by calling them pups. Makes the grown men squirm in their desire to correct him—but both are pretty smart and resist his goading well. "I'll be fine, Jon."
"This is your first year there without me. What if you need me?"
Rafe's hearing is vampire sharp, and he can hear both ends of the conversation just fine. He snorts his disagreement on the likelihood of us needing Jon and thrusts his jeans over his hips, taking his tight boxer briefs with them.
My mouth goes dry at the sight of my husband in all his aroused glory. I clear my throat and try to hurry up the phone call, "This year I've also got Drew and Paul here. Things will work out."
Rafe steps out of his discarded clothing and leaps onto the bed, straddling my body. His muscular arms bracket my torso on the headboard and the heat of his breath fans my cheek.
"Okay, gotta go. I'll call you when we land."
"Wai—"
I click the phone off and toss it to the floor before wrapping my arms around the man I love more than anything else in the world, including my own semi-immortality.
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~C.J.
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