A Kiss of Blood (Vamp City #2)(45)

My God. They were eating him alive.

She had to swallow back the bile. Oh, Vampire.

“It distresses you that the vampire suffers,” the wolf leader murmured, surprised. “He may not have freed you, but you care for him just the same.”

She had to learn to hide her reactions better. “He’s not like some of the others.” She remembered another woman, a Slava, saying the same about another vampire, one Quinn had watched die at the hands of furious humans. Delilah. “You’re not the alpha of the Herewood pack, are you? I know Narina’s sister, Delilah.”

“I am not.” He looked at her with interest. “How do you know the alpha’s mate’s sister?”

“I met her a few weeks ago. I’d like to see her again.”

“We are enemies of the Herewood pack.”

Of course they were. That would have been too simple. “My arms are killing me. How about we have this discussion with me no longer chained?”

“What am I to do with you? I’d rather leave you here, but I’m afraid another of my wolves will try to break in just as Gunroth did.” With a grunt, he strode to the side of the room, where she now saw a small safe tucked into the wall. Turning the dial one way, then the other, he finally opened the door and removed a small set of keys.

Returning to her, he unlocked the cuffs at her wrists.

Quinn lowered her stiff arms, swallowing a groan as the blood began to circulate through her limbs again.

“Turn around.”

Quinn looked at him warily. “Why?”

“You will be bound one way or another, sorceress, or you’ll not leave this cage.”

She stared at him. With a scowl, she turned, not fighting, barely wincing, as he pulled her wrists and cuffed them together.

“Come,” he said.

She followed him out of the cage. “Free the vampire.”

The alpha glanced back at her with amusement. “My wolves need sustenance. Would you take his place?”

“You know I won’t.” Arturo would survive it. Probably. She certainly wouldn’t. But it had been worth a shot.

He led her through a maze of hallways and up a long stair into what was apparently the main part of a house that had seen far better days. Wallpaper, long faded, covered only strips of walls, the rest having fallen or worn off. The ceiling sagged, the wood floors creaked with every step. And the few furnishings looked like they’d come from the city dump.

Though the house appeared relatively large, if nowhere near the size of Cristoff’s castle, it looked like it had been lived in continuously since the 1870s and never updated or adequately maintained. If ever a house looked like it should be haunted, this was it.

The place reeked of dog . . . or wolf, which wasn’t too surprising, considering. Though a few people—well-muscled and naked people—walked about or lounged on the furniture, they had to vie for room with more than two dozen wolves. The animals were everywhere.

At her appearance, they lifted their snouts, as if sniffing the air, and turned to watch her with interest. Several leaped to their feet, one licking his lips as he tracked her with hungry eyes.

Quinn’s skin crawled, and she found herself edging closer to the alpha.

Did wolves do nothing but lie around, threatening their food? If this were her pack, she’d order them to find some tools and get to work fixing up the house. But maybe wolves just didn’t care about the looks of their living space.

They’d probably care if the roof fell on their heads.

As if hearing her thoughts, the alpha said, “It’s solid, despite what it looks like. Most of my wolves spend the majority of their time outside. They’re far more wolf than human.” He eyed her with a warning in his eyes. “You’d do well to remember that.”

Quinn swallowed, her gaze fastened on one who watched her as if she were a fat little rabbit. “It’s rather hard to forget.”

A man’s yell of pain carried from outside, jacking her pulse through the roof. She knew that voice. Arturo.

She had to get him out of there. But how? An energy blast was too temporary to do her much good. She’d watched how quickly the wolves had righted themselves after being thrown back. And her gun was gone.

No, she needed another idea.

“Why do you eat vampires and humans?” she demanded. “Why not deer. Or chickens?”

The alpha glanced at her, his expression bored. “I’m sure the deer and chickens prefer we eat you.” He shrugged one massive shoulder. “We actually prefer beef or pork. And while we’ve never been successful raising our own in this place, we’re happy enough with cuts straight from the market.”

She looked at him askance. “All you need is a grocery-store run?”

He scowled. “Do you see a grocery store around here?”

“There have to be markets.”

“Run by Traders, yes. We are at war with the vampires, at war with the Traders.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t be if you quit eating them.”

The gaze he turned on her was filled with annoyance. “We did not turn on them in that way until we had no other choice. When the magic first began to fail, the vast majority of the Traders fled, unwilling to risk their hides since no one knows for certain what will happen when Vamp City disintegrates. As the shipments declined, the wolves began to go hungry. Unfortunately”—his mouth tightened—“a couple of rogue wolves from the Herewood pack ate the last Traders who were providing us meat.”