Eternal Hearts Read online

  She shivered as the wolves neared and the cracking and popping of their joints bounced off the brick walls on either side of her. She grimaced as their bodies distended upon assuming their human forms. Few scenes caused her stomach to churn, but that happened to be one of them.

  She smiled when the wolves finished their transformations, pleasantly surprised to find all three were fully clothed. If her lore was correct, only the powerful could change from wolf to human with their clothing perfectly intact.

  Without uttering a single word, the tallest of the group stepped forward, immediately flanked by the others. The man in front stood only two inches taller than her, putting him at exactly six feet six inches. Sleek and streamlined, his muscular build radiated the power of a consummate predator. His short brown hair was messy and unkempt. His eyes, much as she’d anticipated – the steely gray of a wolf.

  Dressed in a simple gray t-shirt left un-tucked, worn blue jeans and a pair of black hiking boots, he wasn’t what she’d consider handsome, but he definitely had a rugged appeal.

  The men flanking him were obviously twins. Both stood roughly six feet tall, with similar builds but noticeably wider than the man in front. They too had the same gray eyes, yet their youthful faces were framed by long, untamed black hair.

  Donning black long sleeved t-shirts, worn black jeans and black shit-kicker style boots, they also possessed the same primal appeal of their leader, but were much more attractive.

  She allowed a grin of approval to form on her lips. The twins were most definitely a sandwich she could enjoy being the meat of.

  The man in front stepped closer. “Are you Stryker?” His voice was rough, raspy.

  “I am. And you are?”

  “Thomas.” He nodded to the twin on his left. “That’s Death.” He inclined his head towards the other. “That’s Rattle.”

  She arched a brow at the glaring twins. “Oh, how charming.”

  Thomas shifted between his feet, his irritation more than evident. “Why did you ask for this meeting?”

  Stryker tipped her head from side to side, calculating how quickly she could bait them. “I wanted to strike a deal with you. We both have, shall we say, a common interest?”

  “What?”

  “Well, I’m sure we’d both like to see Lord Christian Locke meet his end. Yes? Maybe suffer a fall from grace?” Her stress on the word was solely for her own amusement.

  His eyes narrowed. “You have my attention.”

  She wasted no time. “I can tell you where and when to strike at him. He’ll be all alone, and I can plainly see,” she said as she purposefully let her gaze wander over their clothes, “you’re more than powerful enough to finally rid me of him. And when you do, I’ll take his place as the Lord of Chicago, and the city will be mine.”

  He straightened. “Why would we trade one Bloodsucker for another?”

  “Because I’ll give you free passage into the northern woods again. You can establish homes there, and I’ll allow you to pick off any Chicago vampires who have outlived their usefulness.”

  Victory tingled through Stryker as silent rage built in the werewolf’s eyes. She almost had him. She drew a deep breath and blew out a sigh. “That’s far more than Locke ever gave you, isn’t it? Wasn’t it his order that drove you out of the northern woods two years ago? If I remember correctly, didn’t his Enforcement Team kill some of your women and children before you fled?”

  A low growl rumbled in his chest. “His Enforcement was destroyed, too.”

  She offered a curt nod. “They were, but they were quickly replaced.” She stared deep into his eyes. “Thomas, let’s be honest with each other. Locke has given you nothing but heartache and defeat. But I, well…I’ve come through on every promise so far. I can give you what you crave most as well as a place to call home again. How do you lose in that?”

  The yearning for revenge glowed behind his feral eyes.

  Biting back the smile threatening to cross her lips, Stryker went in for the kill. “Do we have a deal?”

  Thomas turned to the twins, who looked at each other for a long moment before they finally nodded. With their seeming approval, he turned back to her. “Yes.”

  She pulled a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her red vinyl cat suit and held it out for him. “This is where and when to strike, along with my phone number. Call me when it’s done.” When he reached for the note, she pulled it back a bit. “Would you do me the courtesy of a small favor though?”

  His eyes narrowed again. “What?”

  She couldn’t hold back her smile any longer. “When Christian begs you for mercy, send him my regards.”

  With nothing more than a quick nod, Thomas snatched the paper from her hand and turned away.

  Stryker followed suit as the snapping of muscle and bone filled the air again, but when she cast a glance over her shoulder to see if they’d finished shifting forms, all three were gone.

  She pulled a cigarette from her pocket, paused for a moment to light it, and then sauntered towards the street. Admiring the shadow her lean body cast on the ground, she smiled. Caught by the icy winter wind, her black satin trench coat whipped about, sending darkness crawling over the walls of the alley.

  The image was something from legends. Not only was it elegant, but predatory, and magnificently evil.

  She hastened her steps, her blood practically simmering with excitement. It had taken just over three years to lay the groundwork for her plans, but soon she’d have her revenge.

  Under the rule of Lord Christian Locke, vampires in Chicago were forbidden to kill each other. It was also verboten to publicly attack another vampire, especially one who had a human following.

  Stryker took a drag off her cigarette and blew out a cloud of white smoke. She’d commanded a following in Chicago’s club scene for almost a decade. But three years ago she’d been shot at, in public no less, then shamefully chased by a mere Fledgling Thug, who’d pursued her to the roof of a building downtown and brutally beat her before tossing her twenty stories to her death.

  Luckily, she’d lived and no humans witnessed her fall. But instead of seeking out the armed assailant, Locke had punished her for defying his rule that no one hold sway over the police, aside from him, of course. He’d then forced her into the sun, and to top it all off, had forbidden her to heal the wounds for three entire days. The pompous ass had tortured her with unbearable pain and unbelievable embarrassment, simply for having two friends in the Chicago Police Department. After all, it wasn’t her fault they happened to be the helicopter pilot and his partner. And really, all they’d been attempting to do was rescue her from the top of the building.

  She dropped her cigarette on the ground and stamped out the glowing end with the spiked heel of her boot. After suffering an agonizing fall, adding the horrible burns had been unfair, cruel and indecent. And to compound the situation even more, every demand she’d made for her attacker to be put to death, Locke had denied. Exile was the only punishment he’d seen fit to extend the little Spanish bitch.

  Stryker laughed as one of Chicago’s Finest opened the back door of the cruiser waiting for her on the street. She slid across the worn vinyl seat then stared out the window. Soon, not only would Christian pay for his past transgressions with his life, but she’d delight upon hearing news of his death. And above all else, she'd take great pleasure in knowing the last thought the Lord of Chicago ever had…was of her.

  Chapter 5

  “By all means, please make yourself comfortable.”

  Drake dropped down into one of the plush burgundy chairs in the lobby of the Legacy Suites then kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. “Don’t mind if I do.” He looked up at the desk clerk, Robert, who also happened to be Lord Locke’s personal Servio, and an all around good guy. “So how ya been, Old Man?”

  “Very good, thank you,” he said as he tapped away on a silver laptop. “I’m having your room stocked with fresh food as we speak. A wonder this little box
is.” He smiled as though he was rather proud of himself. “I can direct the staff using this strange messenger gadget. It sends my words directly to their cellular phones. It’s simply amazing. If you don’t already own one, I would highly recommend it.”

  Drake chuckled. “I already have one, Rob. But it’s nice to see you catching up with the times.” He cast a glance over the ornate, cream colored marble floor and the dozen or so matching Romanesque columns adorning the lobby. “At least something in this place looks like it actually came from this century.”

  “I’ll have you know that I designed this hotel down to the finest detail.” He closed the laptop and straightened the jacket of his charcoal gray suit. “And while it may have a luxurious yet antiquated feel, much like myself, we here at the Legacy Suites strive to seamlessly blend the simple elegance of traditional comforts with the stylish sophistication of modern amenities.” He cleared his throat as a huge grin stretched across his aged face. “And if I might be so bold as to say so myself, I think we’ve accomplished our goal quite well.”

  Drake considered Robert’s distinguished features and silvered hair for a moment. Aside from the fact that his English accent made every word he said sound more important somehow, Drake was willing to bet every penny of the 14.5 million he’d made on the Detroit contract that Robert, even though he looked to be in his late fifties, could talk circles around every corporate shark in Chicago.

  Twice.

  Drake smiled up at him. “I wanna be like you when I grow up.”

  Robert let out a loud laugh. “I think you’d soon find the routines of an old man like me rather boring. Besides, given the violent nature of the situations you’re often placed in, and the expectations heaped upon you by your employer, I think you’ve done rather well for yourself.”

  “If by well you mean filthy rich, I won’t argue.”

  “That’s not at all what I meant, and you well know that,” Robert said as he plucked a tissue from the gold encrusted box on the edge of the counter and waved it like a surrender flag. “Now, if you’d kindly remove your soiled boots from my antique cocktail table and clean up whatever residue you’ve tracked in, I would greatly appreciate it.”

  Drake reached out and snatched the flag. “No wonder why Locke always looks so neat and tidy,” he grumbled as he set his feet back on the floor. “You probably bust his balls every time he spills something on one of his million dollar suits, don’t ya?”

  Robert couldn’t have looked any more offended if Drake had stood up and pissed all over his antique whatever table. “I do no such thing.” He cracked a telling grin right before he snapped his fingers and motioned for the tissue back. “Besides, his suits are handled by the dry cleaners.”

  Drake finished wiping the melted snow off the polished mahogany then handed the dirty flag back to him. “I need another one.”

  “One wasn’t sufficient?”

  “Yeah, but I figure you’re just gonna give me another one when I put my feet back up there, so I thought I’d save you the trip.”

  Robert rolled his eyes as he dropped the tissue into the trashcan behind the desk. “I do hope you intend to stop being an assjack when the young lady arrives. It’s not an attractive quality.”

  Drake could only stare at Robert for a second before laughter completely overtook him. Of all the modern phrasing slipups he’d heard over the years, that one was, by far, the best.

  He sucked in a deep breath and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I think you meant jackass, Rob. Not assjack.” He could barely even say the damn word without laughing again.

  Robert muttered something under his breath then waved a hand at him. “Either way, I think you understood my point perfectly well. I can only imagine this night has been very difficult for her thus far, and I’m sure the last complication she needs is you channeling your inner Odin.”

  Drake started to explain why there was nothing wrong with channeling Odin sometimes, but paused when he heard the whooshing sound of the lobby’s frosted glass doors opening. He leaned forward just as Toni stepped inside, looking like she’d been deposited in the middle of an enemy mine field. Her brown eyes darted across the expansive room, growing a little wider with each pass until he was sure they’d fall out of the sockets.

  He stood up, hoping to give her something else to focus on. “Over here.” When her eyes fixed on him, he smiled at her. “I told you I’d beat you. You owe me fifty bucks.”

  She didn’t smile. She didn’t blink. She just stood there, like someone had slathered the floor with some special mixture of glue that only stuck to her brand of well worn boots.

  He moved to stand in front of her. “Are you all right?”

  “I didn’t know it was this nice,” she whispered. She clutched the tattered canvas duffle bag hanging at her side in one hand while she adjusted the olive green shoulder strap closer to her neck with the other. “I mean, I thought it would be fancy…but not Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, fancy. I can’t stay here.” Panic darkened her fine features. “I shouldn’t even be here.”

  “Sure you should.” He turned into her and draped an arm across her shoulders. “See that guy standing behind the counter over there?”

  She nodded slightly. “Yeah.”

  “He runs the place. And I bet if you ask him real nice, not only will he let you sit down, but he’ll even let you put your feet up on his antique whatever table. Won’t ya, Rob?”

  Robert smiled at her, but his eyes told Drake a much different story. “For you, Miss Tutoro, I’d gladly allow such behavior. However, it would appear that you are possessing of far more discriminating tastes than my dear friend Drake. So if you’d like to join the only other adult in the room here at the counter, I’d be happy to assist you in finding your suite.”

  Drake cast a sideways glance to Toni. “Did I mention the Old Man’s got attitude?”

  She smiled up at him, her eyes brimming with amusement. “No, you didn’t.”

  Drake tightened his arm around her shoulders and walked her up to the counter before he released her. “Well, he does. Lots of it. But other than that, he’s a pretty decent guy.”

  Robert nodded as he extended a hand in Toni’s direction. “Please, allow me to properly welcome you to the Legacy Suites. My name is Robert, and it is nothing but an honor and pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Tutoro.”

  A small smile curved her lips as she accepted his hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Robert.” Her eyes moved over the marble countertop and the crystal vase of fresh red roses to the right of him. “I’m, Toni…and I so don’t belong here.”

  He offered her a very fatherly smile. “Your attire is perfectly acceptable, Miss.” He inclined his head towards Drake. “As you can see, we even extend hospitality to those of the leather clad Barbarian persuasion, so please don’t worry yourself in regard to trappings as trivial as clothing.”

  Drake slapped a hand against the counter. “Hey, I’ll have you know that my trappings cost more than a months’ stay here.” He held his trench coat open to show off the silk and wool blend inlay. “This baby was painstakingly handcrafted, specifically for my body and needs, by the finest tailor in all the land.”

  In the space of a single heartbeat, Robert’s smile went from fatherly to something evil laced with mischief. “I’m sure the hefty price tag attached to your coat and trousers lend great comfort to the four cows slain in the making of them.”

  Drake stared at Robert when Toni started laughing. “What was that you said earlier about me channeling my inner Odin?”

  Robert shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Black.”

  “So how long have you two known each other?” Toni asked.

  Drake smiled down at her. “Too long.”

  “But not nearly long enough,” Robert added. “I assure you, Miss Tutoro, while he may seem a bit rough around the edges in this particular setting, beneath those layers of dark leather there lives a good man.”
/>   Her face slowly softened as she stared up at Drake, until she’d perfectly recreated the sweet and innocent smile from her contract photo. “I know he’s a good man. I can see it.”

  Drake shook his head. Whatever she thought she saw, it sure as hell didn’t live in him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to sit down and kick my feet up.” He purposefully shot a taunting glare to Robert. “On a table that no one will make me clean when I’m done.”

  Robert chuckled as he slid a credit card style key across the counter to Toni. “This is the key to your suite, Miss, which is located on the nineteenth floor.” He motioned to his left. “You’ll find the elevators down the hall to your right. And should you need anything at all or find your accommodations lacking in any form, please don’t hesitate to phone the desk. I do hope you enjoy your time with us, Miss Tutoro, and again, it was an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

  She picked up the card. “Thanks, Robert. It was nice to meet you, too.” She started for the elevators but turned around after only a few steps. “And thanks for making me feel…like I could fit here.” She lowered her gaze to her hands, where she tapped the key against her fingertips. “You didn’t have to, but thank you.”

  Robert’s eyes reflected the sadness in her voice. “You’re very welcome, young lady, very welcome. I’ll check in on you in a little while to see if you need anything.”

  When she nodded and resumed the short walk to the elevators, Drake shrugged at Robert then followed her. How she went from laughing one moment to looking like someone kicked her puppy into traffic the next, he didn’t know. But he could only imagine if watching her swing from one emotion to the next with zero travel time in between made him tired – she had to be drained if not totally exhausted.

  She pushed the button to summon the elevator then blew out a fractured breath. “So have you stayed here before?”

  “Stayed here? No. But I stop by every now and then to harass Rob.”