Unsalvageable

Chapter One

Death’s fragrance mingled alongside other long forgotten smells. The air reeked of it. Decency infused with hope and, damn, it intoxicated Sten Majkovic. Unnoticed, he dropped silently into the squalid alley where he immediately spotted the body whose scent captivated him. Blood slowly seeped onto pavement beneath the man’s head. Sten witnessed a tall, heavyset man toss a wallet into a trash receptacle while continuing to clutch a gold chain and a cell phone. Those don’t belong to you.

The robber spun, perused Sten head to toe, and spouted, They’re in my hand. I’d say that makes them mine.

A common gutter thief. Sten didn’t normally kill over thievery, but this man had been particularly vicious. An odd affinity felt for the brutally injured victim brought on a vision of wrenching this one’s head off. Astonished, Sten maintained an outward semblance of calm. He attempted to shrug the vision away as he closed the distance between them. Hear me well. Angling forward, he looked up and spoke softly. I want to relay something I once heard.

Back off, you little bitch. Realizing he was trapped between overflowing trash cans and a large refuse bin, he shoved Sten. Wariness filled ordinary brown eyes when Sten didn’t budge. I’ll shoot your ass. His free hand inched toward his waistband where light from a streetlamp buzzing overhead glinted off the handle of a gun tucked in jeans. Sorry-ass never realized the weapon had disappeared until he touched nothing but fabric. Damn it.

You should listen. Sten’s low voice reverberated in the alley as he recited, "Whosoever believeth in Me, shall not perish but have everlasting life. Asshole’s eyes darted around but failed to notice Sten’s dead black eyes grow to resemble hell’s fiery pit. They are words of truth."

The robber eyed him. Tattooed, wearing leather and chains, I wouldn’t take you for some kind of religious nut. This is not your concern. A brow lifted as thin lips stretched into a slash. You’re not big enough to take me on. However, his effort to move his bulky body forward was halted by a single finger Sten pressed into his chest. God! Who are you?

"What am I would be a more apt question. You taking God’s name in vain reminds me. Where was I in my recitation? Whosoever shall deny Me, Sten’s hand flicked air, Yada. Yada. Yada. I forget the rest. Standing toe-to-toe with the piece of shit, he stretched upward until lips touched the prick’s ear. Sten whispered, I’m not a Godly man. Stepping aside, he gave way to the cretin. Run, motherfucker. Five, six strides later, Sten lifted him into the air then slammed him to the ground. Walking to stand over him, he stated, See, your mistake was thinking I spoke of God. Had you believed in my existence you’d have run faster."

Don’t, please. Wh… why?

Sten gripped his neck and released his fangs. I’d enjoy prolonging your agony, but time is short. The life force faded from the robber who’d captured his interest. Why, indeed. Sten delved into his own mind for an answer but came away empty. All he had was, I don’t like the way you smell. He refused to dull the robber’s senses. Feel pain. Tearing into his jugular, he brutally took the would-be murderer’s blood. Having already fed, sustenance wasn’t required, but Sten wanted to leave the man at death’s door. He dropped the dying man to the asphalt. You can’t call for help. Hell, you can’t move your big ass. You’ll lie here and die all alone. Oh, I should add to why -- you called me a little bitch. Sten did nothing to hinder the drops of blood dribbling from his mouth onto the man’s cheek.

Hel… help me. The whisper yanked Sten to the injured man’s side.

Stooping, he swiped a finger through blood and carried it to his mouth. The man’s eyes filled with dread as they glazed over with death. Drew Riles. Witnessing my actions, do you understand what you’re asking?

Please. Desire to live overrode fear in greenish gray eyes as teardrops copiously slipped into silver-laced light brown hair embellishing temples. Don’t. Let. Me. Die.

As you wish.

* * *

Good evening, Drew.

He knows my name!

This can’t be happening. None of this is real. A nightmare brought on by the beating he’d sustained. Drew barely remembered how he’d ended up in the filthy alley, let alone wherever he was now. But he recalled watching a man commit murder by tearing another’s throat out.

Drugged. The creep from the bar must have drugged me and coerced me outside.

His watch was gone. A gift from his mother after graduating university. Feeling his neck, Drew discovered the chain missing, as well. My chain! A present from…

Should have taken time to have that clasp replaced.

He wondered how long he’d been out. Exploring the back of his head with shaky fingers, he discovered the scab he touched wasn’t painful. His nose had been broken, but it didn’t hurt when he located a bump along the bridge. Unkempt hair fell onto his forehead, his chin was covered with more than normal stubble and bristled beneath his fingertips.

How many days had he been butt ass naked in a stranger’s bed? A stranger who acted like…

"Just over a week. And the word you’re searching for is vampire."

Drew sat up carefully, anticipated pain in his abdomen where the robber had repeatedly kicked him. Barely ached. What?

Faint light filtered through blinds. Not enough to make out the speaker’s features. This will help. A lamp came on beside the bed, but there was no sound to indicate the use of a remote, and the creature didn’t appear to have moved from his seat.

What did you say?

"Vampire. And just over a week."

I can’t be away from work that long. I’ll lose my job.

It’s losing your job that concerns you?

"Yes. No. Who the hell are you?" Vampire.

Call me Sten. And your boss does not expect you back until next month.

A month?

Predictable timeframe for a human who has sustained injuries such as yours.

Drew peered around in search of an escape route. Goddamn it, what did you tell them?

Your office was informed you had been in an auto accident.

You lied?

I didn’t say anything. My staff, which includes doctors, handles such problems.

I take it this isn’t the first time you kidnapped a battered stranger.

Actually, it is. Any others I allowed to live were collected and tended to.

You didn’t kill them?

No. Lips shifted into a stern slash. "And I wouldn’t call it kidnapping. You do recall asking me to save your life?"

I expected to wake up in a hospital.

Instead, you woke up in my bed, with your secret safe.

Secret?

We’ll talk of that another time. Sten leaned forward. What do you really want to know, Drew?

Nothing. Drew took note Sten wore a partially open black shirt revealing an intricately designed tattoo, most of which remained hidden. Thin leather strips tied close around his throat held several trinkets. One had small, unidentifiable stones while a longer, thicker chain held a ring.

Sten wasn’t a big man. Nowhere near Drew’s height or weight. Impossible to be what he claimed. Those monsters are huge. Short to medium height, with walnut hued skin, he looked no older than