Simon.

Advertisement

She tried to speak, but choked on her own blood.

One of the vampires grabbed Ian. “Thanks for the tip, asshole.” The vamp yanked Ian’s neck to the side and sank his teeth deep.

We die tonight.

Ian’s gaze pinned her. “Ready?” His lips moved in a near soundless whisper.

No.

“Give us the bitch!” A vamp spat at Simon. “Hurry, before she—”

“You won’t touch her. You. Won’t. Touch. Her!”

Huh. Sounded like he cared. Lying bastard.

The drumming of her heart didn’t echo in her ears anymore.

-- Advertisement --

No more.

Her neck began to sag. No, I’m still here! I can still think, still—

So very dark.

But she could hear the snarls. The vamps were readying to attack.

And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do.

This is the way it ends.

Hello, Death.

Ian, you bastard, I’d better not see your sorry ass in the afterlife.

Chapter 8

Simon kicked open the main door at Night Watch. His arms curled tightly around Dee’s limp body and blood dripped on the floor around him.

Her blood and his.

He’d had to bite and claw his way through that gang of vampires. He’d taken as many of them down as he could, then he’d run like hell.

Staying and fighting hadn’t been an option. Not with Dee bleeding out all around him.

The shifter must have caught the blood in the air because Jude Donovan came charging down the long corridor, barreling past the guards who had their weapons up, but who stared with wide, shocked eyes at Dee’s prone body.

Donovan shoved one of the guards out of his way. “What the fuck—”

Simon’s hold tightened around Dee. She was so damn still.

Donovan’s hands reached for her. Simon clenched his jaw and let the tiger shifter take her away. No choice. The vamps would be coming for him. He had to leave her someplace safe.

It didn’t get much safer than a hunters’ den.

Her lashes cast dark shadows on her cheeks. Such pale cheeks.

“Pak!” Donovan bellowed.

One of the guards ran behind the shifter, grabbed a phone, and immediately called for an ambulance.

“Won’t do any good,” Simon said, voice grim. “Doctors can’t help her now.”

Donovan looked up, his teeth lengthening, his nostrils flaring. “What did you do?”

Ah, now there was the problem. He reached out and trailed his fingers down Dee’s cheeks. “Not a damn thing.” Her flesh was warm. No longer chilled as she’d been in that alley.

Life, not death.

Why was it so hard for people to understand?

Footsteps thudded down the hallway. More hunters, coming to the aid of their fallen friend.

His thumb brushed over her lips. Those soft lips were stained red with her blood.

Simon dropped his hand. “Tell Dee…tell her I didn’t do a damn thing.”

Pak rounded the corner. Maybe he’d heard the shifter’s bellow or maybe one of the guards had buzzed him. Pak staggered to a stop at the sight of a limp Dee in Donovan’s arms.

Don’t leave her. Stay. The command came from inside, from the soul he’d all but forgotten in the last few years.

Stay. A temptation that almost broke him. She’d wake up. Confused. Angry.

She’d need him. She’d need—

No. The vamps could track him. They couldn’t track her.

This time, it wouldn’t be about what he needed. Simon met Pak’s dark eyes. “You’ll know how to take care of her.”

Pak flinched as understanding hit. “No…Dee?”

His head inclined in the briefest of nods. Then, one last look. Couldn’t help it. He had to see her once more.

Dee.

Donovan had dropped to his knees and spread Dee out on the floor before him. His hands were at her chest, jerking open her shirt and pressing against the wound.

It wasn’t bleeding, not any longer.

Simon swallowed. The game hadn’t gone according to plan. Not at all.

Fuck.

“Good-bye, Dee.” Simon turned away and went back to the darkness.

The darkness always waited for him.

And now, for her.

Dee opened her eyes and sucked in a sharp, hard breath. A fierce pounding filled her ears. Hard, too loud. A dozen scents assaulted her nose. Perfume, too strong. Cigars. Mint. A wild, animal scent and—

Voices buzzed in her ears. Dozens of them. The buzzing grew, louder and louder, turning into a mad roar—

“Dee! Dammit, Dee, look at me!”

She blinked at the thundering voice and her gaze flew to meet Pak’s glittering stare. Pak? How had he found her? She’d been in that alley, bleeding all over the place—

Blood.

Simon.

Vampire.

“Easy, Dee.” Hands were on her shoulders. Holding her in place. Holding her down? She glanced to the right. Saw Jude, his face white, his jaw clenched. There was something in his eyes as he looked at her, something—

Pity?

“I-I-” She sounded like a freaking frog. A really loud frog. “I was…dying.” Her hand fumbled, reached for her chest.

Her shirt had been cut away and she touched skin. Smooth, unmarred flesh right over her heart.

No, no, that wasn’t possible.

“Breathe, hunter. You’ll still need to breathe,” Pak told her softly.

Well, of course she needed to breathe. Everyone did. She took another hard breath and swallowed and realized that she was thirsty.

Very, very thirsty.

Her teeth began to ache.

“Are you in control?” Pak asked.

Dee could only stare blankly at him. Why am I alive? Did the knife miss my heart? Maybe the wound hadn’t been as deep as she’d thought, but there had been so much blood.

Blood.

The drumming in her ears pounded faster, louder. Her hand rose higher, brushing over the edge of her bra, and her fingers circled her throat. So dry. It hurt to swallow.

“Drink this.” Pak shoved a black mug into her left hand.

Pak had never led her wrong. Dee lifted the mug, and the liquid, sweet and rich and oh, God, good, slid over her tongue and down her parched throat.

More.

Greedy, desperate, she drained the mug in three swallows. “More!” The taste lingered on her tongue. Pak had been holding out on her. He’d never given her anything like this before and—

“Maybe we should give her the whole bag.” Jude’s voice. Deep and booming, except maybe he’d been whispering.

Her gaze slanted to him, and she found him holding up one of those bags, kinda like the IV drips you’d see in a hospital, only—this one was filled with red fluid. No, with blood.

Give her the whole bag.

Dee licked her lips and the mug dropped from her hand, shattering onto the floor.

She vomited then because she knew what they’d just given her. What she’d eagerly taken.

“Fuck! Get towels in here!” Shouted to someone, somewhere, then, “Everything is okay, Dee.” Pak, still trying to be reassuring.

No, everything was not okay. Her head fell back even as her tongue skated over her teeth, caught the too-sharp edge of her canines—

No, Christ, no! “Pak?”

Jude moved toward her, holding that damn vampire takeout, and Dee shuddered. Her hands came up. Her short nails were turning into claws. “What did he do to me?”

Simon.

The vampire who’d held her in her last moments. The lover she’d stupidly trusted. “What did he do?” But she knew. Oh, dammit, she knew.

Jude lowered his hand. “He said he didn’t do anything.”

“Look at me!” She screamed as the voices droned in her head and the smells blasted her nose. “I’m not human anymore! That bastard changed me.” I’ve become what I hate most.

“Dee.” Pak, calm, trying to talk her down. No talking down from this.

The blood—so close. She wanted more.

No, no, she was going to be sick again—

Blood.

Her gaze rose to Jude’s throat. To the pulse that throbbed beneath the skin. Fresh blood would be better. So much better.

His brow furrowed. “Why you looking at me like I’m your meal, hunter? Stay in control, you got me? Stay in—”

She shoved her hand against her mouth. The hunger was so intense she nearly doubled over. A vampire. Just like those bastards who’d slaughtered her family. No. Never this. Never. “Stay away from me,” she growled, and didn’t look at him. Couldn’t, because he tempted her too much.

“You have to drink more,” Pak said, voice smooth as silk. Calm, steady Pak. Acting as if nothing were wrong. As if her world hadn’t just gone to hell thanks to a sexy, lying vampire who’d set her up from the beginning. “The first hunger can be too strong for some. I can’t allow you to attack anyone, Dee. You have to drink.”

She threw out her hand. Another mug was pushed against her fingers. She lifted the cup, guzzled the blood. Keep. It. Down.

I’m drinking blood. Nausea rolled inside her, the human remnants fighting what she’d become.

Empty. She pushed the mug back at Pak. It was refilled almost instantly.

She swallowed the dark liquid. Keep. It. Down.

Again.

Again.

Dee drank and closed her eyes. Her cheeks were wet, but she didn’t care. She’d never cried in front of the other hunters. Never cried, period. But this was different. This was hell.

Her teeth ached. Her stomach knotted. She still drank. Drank until the vicious need pounding through her body eased, until she could breathe without wanting to sink her teeth into Jude’s throat.

Until the monster inside had quieted.

“No more.” Pak took the cup from her. Dee swiped the back of her hand over her cheeks. Stupid tears—what good would crying do her? She glanced at her hands, frowning. Wait, was that blood? She’d cried tears of blood?

Dee’s chin came up. “Where’s Zane?” She wasn’t stupid. She hunted vampires for a living. She’d known that a day like this could come, probably would come, sooner or later. She’d hedged her bets to make sure that she wouldn’t turn into one of those killers who preyed on innocents. So many vampires just lost control and killed…killed.

Because the bloodlust could flare so strongly.

Zane was her safety net.

“He’s with the cleanup team on Bymore.”

She’d been on Bymore, right before the attack. “Ian?”

“Bastard’s dead, and so is some cop, a female who’d been working vice.”

The bitch who’d stabbed her. And she’d been one of Tony’s girls?

“The place is a fucking mess, blood everywhere, dead vamps torn apart—”

“What?” With the hunger slaked, she could think better. “Did Night Watch get there to—”

“Not our kills.” Pak crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her. “We found the bodies like that and thought maybe you’d managed to take some of the bastards out.”

She shook her head. “No, no, the cop stabbed me. I was down for the count.” Should have been, anyway.

You won’t touch her. Dee could still hear the rage in Simon’s voice. “He brought me here?” Dumped her. He’d changed her, then dumped her.

She swallowed, aware that the knowledge hurt. The jerk still had the power to hurt her.

Dumped me like garbage. Why?

Because he knew she’d be coming after his ass.

“Chase wanted you taken care of. He knew you’d be safe here.”

But the hunters weren’t safe. She was too unstable. Too—

“You know the first forty-eight hours are the hardest.” Pak, still with those crossed-arms and quiet voice. “We’re going to have to keep you under lockdown until we can make sure you’re not—”

Insane. Driven crazy by bloodlust and power. A freaking killer who would slaughter everyone and everything in her path.

“I know you gave Zane kill orders,” Pak said and Jude sucked in a sharp breath.

“What the hell?” Jude’s claws sprang out.

“But you’re not dying yet,” Pak told her.

“I’m already dead!”

He jerked his head toward Jude. “Lock her up. And, do whatever you have to do, but keep that demon away from her.” A pause. “For now.”

Because if she went bad, if she couldn’t keep her control, Zane would come for her.

He’d given her his word, after all, and one thing about that demon, he always kept his word.

Unlike Simon…I’ll find you. Sooner or later, she’d find her lover and make him pay.

“You don’t smell like a vamp,” Jude said four nights later when he led her out the back door of Night Watch. His nostrils flared a bit and he leaned in close. “Damn, woman, you just smell, hell, like you.”

Dee glanced his way, then turned to stare at the long, dark street. Since the moment she’d awoken, Pak had kept her under close scrutiny. He’d watched her. Fed her. Helped her to focus the chaos in her mind that came from the enhanced senses and the fears.

Just like before, Pak had taught her.

Not how to hunt this time.

How to live as a vampire.

“Pak told me that a vamp’s scent changes,” Dee said, not sure she understood why she wasn’t reeking like a corpse. “Those bastards that hunt and rip apart humans, they stink of death and decay.”

“Because they have no soul left,” Pak’s soft voice, coming from behind them. Dee didn’t glance back. She’d known he was there. It was too easy to catch even his soft footfalls now.

-- Advertisement --